Bob reached into a drawer and pulled out a stack of clean shop towels. He mopped his face with one and said, "Here. Dry yourself off a little, Kathy.”
Kathy was dabbing at her face when she heard, "Aah, Bob?”
They both flinched. The liquor heir collected himself and said, "Yeah?" He turned toward the side door. "What is it, Wayne?”
The crewman looked embarrassed. "Well, uh, that is… " He looked from Bob to Kathy and back again.
"Come on in, Wayne," Bob said testily. He helped Kathy down from the bench. "Kathy, this is Wayne Taylor. He flies the backup plane." He turned. "You know Kathy Andrews, don't you?”
"I've seen her. 'S pleasure, miss." He hesitated again, then blurted, "We're winning, Bob. Four-and-a-half minutes." He ducked his head.
Kathy's eyes widened. "What happened to Daddy?”
Chapter 9
Kathy repeated her question. "Where's my father? What happened to him?" She gripped Bob's wrist and looked from one man to another.
"He's okay, Kathy," Bob assured her. "He seemed to have a little trouble with his controls, that's all.”
"You knew? You knew you were beating him and you-you-" Kathy gathered herself up. She stood rigid, sixty-two inches of irate young woman. "You rotten bastard! You wretched, sneaky bastard!”
She brushed past Wayne and ran out of the truck.
Kathy stooped to grab her panties. She jammed them into the pocket of her skirt and turned as if to say something, then spun and ran away.
Wayne looked from the fleeing girl to Bob Williams. "What the fuck is that about? So what if you beat her dad?”
"I'll tell you sometime, maybe. Go find George and we'll get the planes ready for tomorrow.”
Mary Jackson beckoned to Kathy as the little blonde stomped across the impound area, but Kathy stopped the older woman with a glare. When she reached her father's assigned spot, she found him and Milt looking inside one long wing with a flashlight. Milt greeted her and her father looked up.
"Hi, honey. What's up? Have you been having a good time today?" Mike tried to pass off his worry with cheerful questions.
"What happened to the glider, Daddy?" Kathy asked. "How come you lost so much time today?" Kathy was pale and shaking. "I was afraid something had happened to you. I only just found out." Her lower lip stuck out and her voice trembled.
Mike stood up and hugged his daughter. "Nothing's gonna happen to me, honey. I just had a tiny little problem, and I think I know what it is. Why don't you do me a favor and bring the wing stands out of the truck, okay?" He gave Kathy a peck on the forehead and turned her toward the camper. He started to pat her fanny, but thought better of it.
When Kathy came back with the carpet-lined holders, Milt and her father were holding the outboard aileron in their hands. She put the U-shaped brackets down and held the long, slender control surface while the men set the wing in the holders. "Did you find it, Daddy?" she asked, trying to look over their shoulders.
"Not sure," Mike grunted. "Hold that rod, Milt”
Mr. Jackson reached into the slot with a pliers. Mike snipped the safety wire and pulled out a piece of white metal about the thickness of a thumb with a rotating bronze ball in the end. It looked like a stubby lollipop.
Mike looked at the clamp that held the ball. "This is why I couldn't bank left." He pointed to a crack between the setscrews. "One God-damned broken Heim joint.”
"Can you fix it?" Kathy asked. "Do we have another one?”
Mike sighed heavily. "I only machined enough to outfit the plane. There's not much chance to find one like it. Besides, it's T-6, fully hardened aluminum, and I can't patch that crack.”
Milt spoke up. He took the broken joint and said, "Williams has a heli-arc in his rig, I might be able to get his welder to run a bead over it.”
Mike nodded. "All right, if you think he'll do it. Tell him not to get it too hot. A patch won't do me any good if he warps it so the bushing won't fit." He looked dispiritedly into the wing and added, "Thanks, Milt.”
Kathy put her hand on her father's back. "What happens if he can't weld it back together?”
"Well, then we might as well go home. I'll fix it and sell the plane." Mike looked disgruntled. "I figured I'd picked up another two minutes on Williams before the damn thing broke.”
"Oh, Daddy," Kathy said, leaning her head against him. "I'm just glad you didn't get hurt!”
"I'm not gonna get hurt, baby. I just had to fly a lot slower. I was halfway back when it got mushy. I had lots of altitude, but I couldn't throw her around much." He stood patting her fanny absently.
Kathy stood next to him for a minute, then said, "I'll fix us some lunch while you check the rest of the plane. I'm sure you're hungry.”
"Wasn't, till you mentioned it." Mike released his daughter's hip. He kissed her forehead. "I could use a little snack.”
Mike watched her step into the truck, thinking, She's a helluva good kid. Connie'd be proud of her.
I ought to stop flying. Everything we own, except that little house, is tied up in this sailplane. If I crash it, then Kathy's not gonna have a damn thing, not even me.
Kathy remembered her panties while she was inside the truck. She pulled them out of her pocket and hoisted her skirt to put them on.
Her wound was ugly. She looked at her pert ass in the mirror and sneered at the purpling blotch. She peeked around the curtain, making sure that her father wouldn't be walking in on her.
Kathy put a washcloth in the cooler, soaking it with ice water. She gasped at the cold touch as she scrubbed the crusting juices off her pussy.
Ow! That's so cold! It does feel kind of nice though. I think my ditty's getting hard!
I better not do this. Daddy's waiting for his lunch out there. The last thing he needs is to have me get all horny in here while he works.
Kathy looked at her fresh-scrubbed pussy in the mirror. The chill had turned her whole crotch bright pink. She dried off with a towel and pulled her panties on.
Darn it! The bottom part of that scab shows past my panties. I sure don't want Daddy to find out about it-it wouldn't be so bad if it showed on my panties. Anybody could see that I wasn't wearing them when I fell.
That Bob Williams is realty a prick! He took off right after Daddy, so he must have passed him on the way in. The leant he could have done was told me there was some trouble, instead of just slobbering all over my pussy. I hate him!
I'm gonna have to be really good to Daddy from now on. God, I would have just died if he found out about that horrible man! Any time I feel like touching myself again, I'm going to do it where it's safe. Maybe I'll be able to sneak in with Daddy while he's sleeping…
Kathy finished assembling a stack of sandwiches and went outside. Milt Jackson was back and the two men had taken the other wing apart to check it for stress. Kathy sat on the ground and listened to them while they ate.
They had put the second wing back together and slipped it onto the trailer when Bob Williams walked by. Mike met him.
"Is my Heim joint finished?" he asked.
"I'll take care of it when I get around to it," Bob said.
"It's been over two hours," Milt said. "You don't have anything that pressing, do you?”
Bob glared at Kathy, then looked at Mike. "I'm a little short-handed. I said I'd do it when I get around to it." He looked Mike over and added, "And then it'll be thirty bucks.”
Milt said, "What? Thirty bucks for a two-minute patch? Don't be ridiculous, Bob.”
Bob looked coolly at Milt. "I don't think your friend belongs in this league. If you can't pay, you shouldn't play.”
"All right. Where is it? I'm damned if I'll put up with your bullshit! I'll get my plane fixed myself if I have to glue it," Mike snarled.
"It's over in my truck. I don't think your glider should be allowed to fly tomorrow. There's obviously no place that will weld that piece on Sunday, and anything less endangers everyone here," Bob answered. "I'm filing against you if that backyard bomb even comes off its trailer tomorrow.”