Chapter 6 - The Missing Passenger
The terminal at the regional airport was half-empty, the echoing footfalls of Detective Miller’s boots sounding like drumbeats against the polished tile floor. Maya and Drew sprinted alongside him, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they rushed toward international departures.
Detective Miller flashed his badge at a security checkpoint agent, bypassing the queue entirely and pushing through emergency glass doors that led directly onto the tarmac. A sleek, twin-engine private jet sat idling on the runway, its turbine engines whining loudly against the autumn wind, preparing for takeoff.
"Hold that aircraft! Federal law enforcement hold!" Detective Miller bellowed into his radio, waving his badge furiously at the ground crew near the boarding stairs.
A ground marshall in an orange safety vest raised his hands, signaling the pilot in the cockpit to cut power. The whining roar of the engines slowly wound down, dying away to a low, ominous hum.
Maya stood at the bottom of the rolling staircase, her chest heaving as she stared up at the open cabin door. The anticipation was suffocating. She gripped the metal railing and climbed the steps three at a time, bursting into the plush, leather-lined interior of the jet.
The cabin was empty.
A single half-empty glass of champagne sat on a mahogany table next to a pile of discarded travel brochures. A laptop remained open on the seat, its screen glowing with an active flight tracker that showed a completely different destination than the one the corporate ghost had claimed.
Detective Miller stepped into the cabin behind Maya, his eyes scanning the luxurious interior before landing on the open laptop. He walked over and tapped the trackpad, bringing up the recent flight logs and passenger manifests.
"She wasn't on this flight," Detective Miller muttered, his brow furrowing deeply.
Drew pushed his way into the cabin, looking around wildly. "What do you mean she wasn't on it? This is her private jet! We saw the manifest!"
"Look at the timestamp on the passenger manifest," the detective instructed, pointing a finger at the screen. "The original booking was for Helen Carson. But thirty minutes ago, it was amended. The name was changed to Sarah Carson—your brother Tyler’s wife."
Maya felt the air leave her lungs. "Sarah? But Sarah was at home with the baby when we arrested Tyler."
"Not anymore," Detective Miller said, grabbing his radio. "Dispatch, I need an all-ports alert for a Sarah Carson traveling under an alias. Check every regional flight leaving the tri-state area within the last hour."
Static hissed from the radio before the dispatcher’s voice crackled back, delivering news that shattered any remaining hope of an easy resolution.
May you like
"Detective, we just got a ping from the local precinct," the dispatcher said. "Tyler Carson’s wife didn't flee the country. She just checked into a maximum-security federal holding facility to visit her husband—and she brought a duffel bag containing two million dollars in bearer bonds."
---
