The drive-in movie idea had been Dian's she'd found two passes at the bottom of her tote bag. Zoe was spending the weekend with Marcus's cousin in Atlanta and knocked on his door on a Saturday evening and said, "You need to get out of this house. Come with me. Where? Starlight Drive-In.
They're showing one of those old action movies. I don't even care what it is. I just want popcorn and open air and not to sit inside a building for 2 hours. Marcus had looked at her for a moment. Diane, don't.
She said, "Don't explain why you shouldn't. Just get your keys." He got his keys. They drove out to the Starlight in his F-150. Parked in the middle row. Got the largest bag of popcorn they had.
And settled in. The Georgia sky above them was the deep blue of late twilight. Just a few stars visible, the air warm with the specific warmth that Georgia evenings held in late summer. Humid and soft like the world had wrapped a blanket around itself. They talked through the previews about Zoey, about a book Diane was reading, about a repair Marcus had done to a neighbor's carburetor that week.
Small things, real things, the kind of conversation that doesn't announce its importance while it's happening. Then the movie started and they watched in comfortable silence for a while. And then Diane reached over and quietly unclipped her seat belt. "I'll be in the back," she said simply. Marcus turned to look at her.
She met his eyes with an expression that was perfectly calm and somehow the most terrifying thing he'd seen since a storm over the North Atlantic. "Wait until the movie ends," she said. And then she climbed into the back seat. Marcus faced forward. On the screen, an action sequence was building.
Explosions, noise, movement. He didn't see any of it because his phone was buzzing. He picked it up, looked at the screen. Unknown number, Atlanta area code. He almost let it go to voicemail.
He didn't know why he didn't. Some instinct, some pull. He answered it. Marcus Reed. Yes, Mr.
Reed. My name is James Whitfield. I am general counsel for the Federal Aviation Administration's Office of Audit and Enforcement. I'm calling because we've opened a formal investigation into Callaway Regional Airways maintenance protocols. Your name came up in connection with internal safety documentation you filed approximately 2 years ago.
We need to talk. Marcus sat very still on the screen. Something exploded. In the back seat, Diane was quiet. She had no idea what she was hearing.