He was a narrow man with silver hair, suspenders, and a face like dried leather. Not cruel. Just tired.
He looked past me into the trailer and asked, “He gone?”
I nodded.
Mr. Crenshaw sighed. “He owes me three months.”
“I know.”
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He was a narrow man with silver hair, suspenders, and a face like dried leather. Not cruel. Just tired.
He looked past me into the trailer and asked, “He gone?”
I nodded.
Mr. Crenshaw sighed. “He owes me three months.”
“I know.”
In 25 years of flying, pilot Ian Nixon had never faced anything like the crash that left him and 10 passengers stranded for hours…