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amazing.”
    Max nodded. “It’s strawberry meringue —” he said in little more than a whisper, and then yelled at the top of his lungs, “ricoperti!”
    Adam jumped and dropped his cell phone. Sasha let out a long howl from upstairs.
    I thanked a puzzled Max and took the two plates from him.
    I locked the door behind Max and flipped over the Closed sign. It didn’t take us long to devour our desserts. “We should probably leave soon,” I said, as soon as I’d shoveled in the last mouthful. “Our appointment’s in a little over an hour.”
    Adam nodded. “Then let’s get moving.” He walked out the front door and got in his truck. I locked up before meeting him outside.
    It seemed to take forever to get to the airport. The drive up the highway had been slow, with people driving considerably under the speed limit, but then speeding up every time we had an opportunity to overtake.
    I got out of the vehicle and looked back to see Adam fidgeting with something in the back. He emerged from his truck with a duffel bag strapped around his shoulder. “Don’t they tell journalists to pack light for helicopter flights?” I asked, trying to hold in my laughter at the thought of him as Indiana Jones.
    Adam glanced down at his bag. “Oh, this? It’s mostly empty, just some notepads and my new camera with a telephoto lens. I figured it might come in handy during our flight.”
    I nodded. I hoped Adam was right about this, but I had my doubts. Still, he was paying for it, and I could pretend it was a date — well, almost.
    We walked over to the hangar office and filled out the required forms to take part in one of the tours. I was worried about the part stating that they accepted no responsibility for passengers’ death or disability. I knew it was just red tape, but I imagined the helicopter plunging into the gorge. Not a nice thought.
    As we were waiting to board, a tall, rough looking man walked up to us. Hi,” he said. “I’m Riley Cooper, and I’ll be your pilot today.”
    We gave him our names.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” the pilot replied. “So what are you two hoping to see today? Just a normal scenic tour?”
    “Pretty much,” I said.
    Adam paced around a bit before he finally joined in on the conversation. “Actually, I’m a journalist. I’m new in town, and I’m writing a book on architecture. There’s a beautiful convent just outside town. I was hoping to get some nice pictures of it, but the walls are so high, so I figured an aerial view would be my best shot. Do you think it would be possible to get kind of close and grab a few photos of it for my book?”
    The pilot looked somewhat uneasy. “The convent? Nobody ever asks to fly over there. I know it’s not architecture, but there’s a beautiful set of cliffs just an hour away that we could see. You’d definitely get some beautiful shots from there.”
    Adam shook his head. “We’d rather stay closer to town and just get some pictures of the buildings, including the convent if you don’t mind.”
    “Are you sure?” the pilot asked. “We usually only take people over the gorge country. It’s really dramatic, you know. We swoop down low into the gorge and then, up, up, up!” He made a swooping movement with one hand.
    Adam shook his head. “I really just need photos of the convent, if that’s okay with you.”
    The pilot shrugged and reluctantly agreed. He motioned for us to follow. When we were inside the cramped helicopter, he leaned over to speak to us. “Here, we need to use these headsets so the noise doesn’t eliminate all communication when we’re up there. Do either of you have any questions or concerns about flying before we get this under way?”
    “No, we’re right, thanks,” Adam said as he pulled the headset down, over his head. He looked at me and I nodded.
    “Strap yourselves in and we’ll be taking flight shortly.” He spun around in his chair and started flicking a bunch of switches and