Carol Cail

"We'll be landing in approximately ten minutes," the captain announced in a relaxed drawl. "Temperature down there is a balmy seventy-six."

Charlie Yost adjusted her seat back into its upright position before the patrolling flight attendant could find fault. Chicago to Denver flight 103 tipped and, through her window, Charlie had a view of the late-afternoon sun slipping behind a white barricade of mountains and clouds. Somewhere in that awesome line of stone and snow, there was a job to do and five days in which to do it--solve the what and the where of the Sayers tiara.