She headed over the meadow, thinking about wind direction and landing speeds. Then she remembered to glance at her wrist watch—and was alarmed at the time. There simply wasn’t time today to land and talk to Lucy and Mrs. Heath. Her free time had nearly run out.
Vicki was obliged to fly past the meadow, beyond the wooded hillside, and out over Pine Top country in the direction of the coast and San Francisco. She was exceedingly disappointed.
“Well, I’ll have ample time off next week,” Vicki consoled herself. “I’ll come back.”
CHAPTER VII
Which Lucy?
“Vicki, there’s a Miss L. Rowe aboard!” Jean said excitedly. “I just discovered it when I had to check tickets and passengers’ names!”
Vicki stopped her preparations for lunch and stepped outside the buffet into the aisle. “Where, Jean? Where is she?”
“’Way up forward. You can’t see her from here. A stunning girl. Brown suit, brown hair.”
“I can’t stop and go up there now.” Vicki craned to see down the length of the Electra cabin. “Has she a squarish face?”
“I’m not sure.” Some of the passengers noticed their excitement. The two stewardesses stepped back into the privacy of the buffet. “Vic, could she be your Lucy Rowe?”