She had really put her foot in it, bringing up the past, and Jake, and her father, and all that it implied. Rob Carter’s expression changed from friendly and interested to deeply suspicious. She hadn’t hidden anything from him, not really, but the fact that she’d made no mention of the way her father had died until there was no turning back was probably a little incriminating. Fortunately for her, a soft bell dinged and the pilot announced their approach to the airport in Jackson. He also said, in the mildest of terms, that due to reported wind shears in the area, passengers should expect “a little jiggle now and then.” The first “jiggle” left Twyla’s stomach somewhere in the vicinity of twenty-thousand feet. The next jiggle left the imprint of her ruby-slippered fingernails in Rob’s forearm. The jiggle after that might have severed her tongue, except that she had her teeth clamped together too tightly to move. Some of the other passengers added sound effects to the flight pattern.
