“Just promise you’ll warn me if he wakes up.”
Diane nodded gravely.
“Consider me your lookout.”
I reached beneath the seat ahead of me, retrieved my carry-on, and eased the zipper open.
I’d been away for five days on business, and my eight-year-old daughter, Megan, was expecting a special present. She adored Barbie and just about anything pink. A Barbie-themed beauty kit in a gift shop was the perfect choice.
It contained six pink polishes and plastic rings with giant imitation gemstones. A few stones were almost as big as golf balls. I planned to surprise Megan that evening, but borrowing a few pieces seemed harmless.
I took out the brightest polish. Diane admired the bottle.
“Oh, this is going to be beautiful.”
“Just make sure nobody sees.”
