Jessica closed her eyes and concentrated on keeping the soda and pretzels down. She wasn’t sure whether it was better to have a full stomach or an empty one when flying in bad weather. Lightning crackled, and several people gasped. A little girl screamed. So did her mother. St. Elmo’s fire danced along the front edge of the wing. Jessica thought the fuel tanks were located in the wings. Could they catch on fire? Summoning up her courage, she reflected on the idea of leaving New York to keep from being killed by a stalker, only to go down in an airplane crash in Texas. There was a kind of rough poetic justice in the thought. If the plane did crash, she wouldn’t have to impose on Violet’s brother, who didn’t want to fool with her in the first place. At least, that was the impression she’d gotten when her friend had carefully and thoroughly explained that the ranch was very busy at this time of the year. Jessica would mostly have the house to herself and would have to find her own amusements.
