Matt was fit. His job kept him limber and he worked out three times a week at a gym. The endurance aspects of the dives did not trouble him. Greg had him ditch his equipment on the surface and climb back into it. They practiced buddy breathing. Greg tore his mask off underwater and had him put it back on and clear it. They went down to sixty feet and Matt had to make a slow ascent on a single breath.

The second dive was more recreational. Greg swam beside him and pointed out a variety of fish and interesting kelp formations. Matt was glad for his mask. It hid his total lack of interest.

They finished at five-fifteen, ten minutes after sunset. Greg presented him with a temporary diving certificate. The real one would come in the mail in two weeks. Matt had posed for the ID’s picture on the previous trip. Greg was excited for him and Matt forced a smile and gave his instructor a thank-you hug. But Matt begged off any further celebration. He told Greg he had to get to his party. After a shower and change at the harbor, he took the bus back to the airport.

It was almost dark when he arrived. The guy on duty was already closing up.

Matt ran to the gate. “Hey, my plane’s here. I’m leaving tonight.”

The guy checked his watch and shook his head. “Sorry, bud. Didn’t anyone tell you that this is a day-only airport?”

“I know the rules. I can leave within forty minutes of dusk. You’ve got to let me go. I fly all the time at night.”

The guy continued to lock the gate. “It’s not my decision to make.”

Matt put his hand in the space between the metal bars. “Listen, it’s very important I get to Santa Barbara tonight. My family’s having a big party for me.”

The dull-headed lug stopped. “What’s the party for? Did you win something?”

“The lottery. Hey, why don’t I slip you twenty bucks and you let me go and no one will be any wiser? What do you say?”

The guy wasn’t a complete fool, he took the money. Climbing into his plane and fastening his seat belts, Matt swung onto the narrow runway. The wind was up—he had not noticed it while in the water. As he pulled back on the throttle and sailed off the edge of the cliff, he felt a sharp downward yank. His nose lowered dangerously and his wheels came within ten feet of skimming the water. It would have been ironic, he thought, after all his preparation, to have crashed and died immediately after leaving the island.

Amy would never have known what she missed.