She held the heading: the left engine was at 67% now; the hydraulic pressure was at 2,700. "Warren," she said, "the company named on those documents—is there a company name?"
He looked. "One of the pages has a letterhead partially visible. Meridian something. Meridian Advisory, maybe."
She absorbed that. Filed it. "That name," she said quietly. "My aunt and I are going to Denver to meet someone who worked with my father. The meeting was arranged through a company. I only caught part of the name when Aunt Danielle was on the phone last week." She paused. "I think it was Meridian something."
Warren looked at her. She kept flying.
Danielle had come back to the cockpit doorway, and she'd heard the last part of that exchange. She stood very still with one hand on the doorframe.
"Zariah," she said.
"Not right now, Aunt Danielle."
"Your father—"
"I know." Her voice didn't change pitch, didn't crack. "I know something happened that connects to this. I know that's why we're going to Denver. I've known for a while that Dad's accident might not have been an accident." She adjusted the heading by two degrees. "I need to land this plane before I can think about the rest of it."
Danielle pressed her lips together hard. Her eyes were wet. "Okay," she said. "Okay, baby."
"Is the passenger secure?"
"Gerald has him at the bulkhead. Keely is watching him."
"Good."
Danielle started to step back, then stopped. "He's been asking about you."