Whatever was on her mind, it was important enough to ask him to drop everything and fly four hundred nautical miles at night. He considered the logistics. Night flight wasn’t his preferred mode of helicopter travel. Following the I-5 corridor north would make the flight a little safer, but if his aircraft lost power, all bets were off.

He backed his Mustang out of the garage and looked at dashboard clock. 9:12 pm. He’d better call Harv. If his closest friend and business partner ever discovered he’d flown through the Los Angeles basin—alone at night—there’d be hell to pay.

“Hi, Nathan.” Harv’s baritone resonated so deep, it survived the cellular hatchet job.

“Sorry to call so late.”

“Not at all. What’s going on?”

“Holly just called. Said I need to get up there right away.”

“From your tone, I take it this isn’t a social call.”

“She sounded scared, Harv.”

“Of what?”

“She didn’t want to say over the phone. You and Holly aren’t, you know, pulling a fast one on me?”

“No.”

“I’m on my way over to Monty right now. I’m flying up there.”

“Not without me you aren’t.”

“Harv, it’s the middle of the night. You’ve got a family.”

“And your point?”

Nathan wouldn’t win this round. In truth, he’d known this would happen, and two sets of eyes when flying were better than one, especially at night. “Can you get a weather brief into Sac Exec via Fresno?”

“No problem.”

“I’ll land at the polo fields at Via de la Valle. It’s pitch-black out there.”

“I’ll be waiting. Do we need any special equipment?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll throw a duffel bag together with some basics. See you in forty minutes.”

***

Nathan made a flawless approach to the polo fields. The Bell 407 helicopter made a boatload of noise, but he wasn’t worried about getting cited. No one on the bluff would be able to read his tail numbers, even with field glasses. Besides, what real harm was he doing to anyone? Were ninety seconds of helicopter noise really such a monumental crime to the neighborhood?

He set the ship down and reduced the throttle. Harv materialized out of the blackness with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. No matter how many times he saw his friend, Nathan marveled at the man’s ease of movement, especially when running. Had it not been for his size, topping six feet by a good inch, Harv could’ve been a gymnast. He and Nathan were the same age and they both kept themselves in top physical shape.