Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  Clay knew that the normal flight time was forty-six minutes, but since this was not a jet capable of flying at more than four hundred miles an hour, the three hundred eighty-four mile trip would take a bit longer. He hoped Harry, or Fred would know of the delay and wait for him at the Denver airport.

  Clay closed his eyes and nodded off once again. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep when he felt the hand on his shoulder again. He sat upright and looked to his right. The woman next to him looked a bit concerned.

  “What?” Clay said. “Is something wrong?”

  “I think you were having a nightmare,” the woman said. “You were talking in your sleep, mumbling something about Ricky Nelson.”

  “Oh,” Clay said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just that I didn’t get a lot of sleep before I had to be at the airport so early this morning.”

  “You should have probably gone to bed earlier,” the woman said. “I did and I feel refreshed and relaxed.”

  “I’ll remember that for next time,” Clay said. He stuck his hand out toward the woman. “By the way, my name’s Clay. Clay Cooper.”

  The woman took his hand and gave to two short pumps and released it again. “Bonnie Damrow,” she said. “Nice to meet you, Clay. So you’re going to Flagstaff?”

  “Actually, I’m going to Denver,” Clay said. “I thought this was going to be a non-stop flight.”

  “Small world,” Bonnie said. “I’m flying on to Denver, too. I have a meeting with my lawyer at three o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Oh oh,” I said. “Is he posting your bail?”

  Bonnie didn’t laugh. She just looked at Clay from the corners of her eyes.

  “Sorry,” I said. “It’s my warped sense of humor. It often gets me into a lot of trouble.”

  “No,” Bonnie said, shaking her head. “It was funny. I just wasn’t expecting it. Actually, I’m meeting with my lawyer to draw up papers of incorporation for my business.”

  “Really,” Clay said. “What kind of business are you in?”

  “I make custom jewelry,” Bonnie said. “When I started, it was just me on the kitchen table. That was six years ago. Today I have seven employees and a three thousand square foot building. I ship jewelry all over the world.”

  “That’s great,” Clay said. “It must be satisfying to know so many people want your product.”

  “It really is,” Bonnie said. “What do you do, if I may ask?”

  Clay pulled out leather case and showed Bonnie his I.D. and shield.

  “You’re a cop?” Bonnie said.

  “Private,” Clay explained. “My father started the business right after the war and I took it over in the eighties. My son runs the business now with his wife. I just help out when they need an extra body. Mostly I’m semi-retired and loving it.”

  “And I’ll bet you wife is like most wives of retired guys,” Bonnie said. “They all complain that they don’t get the house to themselves enough of the time. Am I right?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Clay said. “My wife died eighteen years ago. She was hit by a car.”

  Bonnie laid a hand on Clay’s arm. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea.”

  Clay laid his hand on top of hers. “Don’t apologize,” he said. “I’ve been single so long that sometimes even I forget what it was like. What about you? Does your husband have anything to do with your jewelry business?”

  “No,” Bonnie said. “We got divorced several years ago. I guess he didn’t want to compete with my jewelry business. Last I heard he was living in Venice with some twenty-three year old art student. More power to him.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you’re bitter,” Clay said.

  “I was when it first happened,” Bonnie said, “but it didn’t take me long to realize that feeling like that wasn’t good for my health. Besides, I discovered that I really enjoy living by myself. No one to clean up after, no one snoring in my ear and no one telling me how to behave and what to do. I wish he’d left me years before he did.”

  “I guess what you’re saying is that when life hands you lemons,” Clay said.

  “You make lemonade,” Bonnie said, smiling now.

  “So you say you’re going to a meeting with your lawyer in Denver,” Clay said. “Then what were you doing in Los Angeles?”

  “I had a meeting with a jewelry distributor,” Bonnie said. “They want to sell my jewelry in one of the major chains out here.”

  “Isn’t that marvelous?” Clay said. “You’ll be the richest person in the graveyard.”

  “How’s that?” Bonnie said.

  “It was something my dad used to say a lot,” Clay explained. “Whenever he’d meet someone who was more focused on work and making a buck than they were on enjoying life. I never forgot that.”

  “Interesting,” Bonnie said. “I guess I never thought of it like that.”

  “And you know,” Clay said. “So far no one’s found a way to take it with them. So whatever fortune you make will probably be left to your heirs. But at least you can say that you worked hard and made a lot of money.”

  Bonnie got a distant look in her eye. “That’s true, isn’t it, Clay?” she said.

  “And you look like you’ve got another fifty years in you,” Clay said. “That is, if you live to be eighty.”

  Bonnie beamed. “Aren’t you sweet?” she said. “Just how old do you think I am?”

  “Sounds like you’re at least thirty,” Clay said. “Did I guess too high?”

  Bonnie grabbed Clay’s arm and squeezed. “No, you didn’t,” she said. “You’re right on the mark.” She lied and smiled to herself at the thought of someone guessing fifteen years too low. It was flattering, but she guessed that he was saying it as a come-on, and she didn’t mind.

  “Really?” Clay said.

  “Close enough,” Bonnie said. “Let’s leave it at that.”

  The flight to Flagstaff was over before Clay knew it. He’d become so engrossed in conversation with Bonnie that he hadn’t bothered to look at the time. The plane began to descend and Clay could feel the wheels drop and lock into place. The stewardess came around and collected the little plastic drink cups and reminded everyone to sit upright and buckle their seat belts for the landing. Clay and Bonnie complied and a few minutes later the plane was taxiing toward the terminal.

  Bonnie stood, retrieved a small carry-on bag from the overhead compartment and started up the aisle. Clay followed close behind, having no carry-on luggage to worry about. The both stepped off the plane and down the rolling stairway, out onto the tarmac.

  Clay took the small bag from Bonnie. “Here, let me carry that for you,” he said, feeling like a schoolboy carrying a girl’s books for her. Bonnie handed the bag to Clay and then locked her arm around his as they walked into the terminal. A quick look at the arrival and departure board told them that the connecting flight to Denver would be leaving at gate four in thirty-five minutes.

  “Would you like to get some coffee?” Clay said, gesturing with his chin at the airport coffee shop.

  “Why not?” Bonnie said.

  Clay found a booth near the window that looked out onto the terminal waiting area. “We’ll be all right here until they call our flight,” he said.

  The waitress came and took their order, returning in a minute with two cups and a coffee pot. “Would you like anything else?” she said.

  “Nothing for me?” Clay said, waving her off and then looking at Bonnie. “How about you?”

  “No thanks,” she told the waitress, who turned and walked away.

  “I hope the plane to Denver is not the same size as the one we just got off,” Clay said.

  “It’s not,” Bonnie said. “It’s smaller. It only seats eight plus the pilot. No in-flight movie, no refreshments, no annoying stewardesses pointing with two fingers toward the exits in the event of an emergency. Just the bare essentials.”

  “How long a flight is it in one of those puddle
jumpers?” Clay said.

  “Well,” Bonnie said, “a full-sized airliner can usually make the four hundred seventy-eight mile trip in an hour, give or take ten minutes. Now our plane, on the other hand, is rated at around two hundred fifty miles per hour. Add eight passengers and luggage and we might get two hundred flat out of it.”

  “How do you know so much about this stuff?” Clay said.

  “This isn’t my first trip, Clay,” Bonnie explained. “And the regular airline that services this route has been on strike for the past four and a half weeks. I’ve made this trip half a dozen times since then. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have a clue.”

  “And here I thought you were some sort of aviation wizard,” Clay said. “I guess that means we won’t be landing in Denver until sometime between twelve-thirty or one o’clock.”

  “That sounds about right,” Bonnie said. “That’ll leave me a couple of hours to unwind before my meeting. You know, Clay, you never did tell me why you were flying to Denver.”

  “That’s right, I didn’t,” Clay said. “I’m afraid it’s not for something as exciting as a meeting with a lawyer. I’m just visiting a friend. I’ll be staying with him for a week and then flying home to L.A. again.”

  “Well,” Bonnie said, “if you’re going to be in town for a week, maybe we can have dinner some night and you can bring your friend along with you.”

  “The dinner part sound good,” Clay said. “But maybe I won’t bring my friend along, if that’s all right with you.” Clay thought he saw Bonnie’s face flush.

  The two of them sat there, enjoying each other’s company and losing track of time. They were reminded when a voice came over the intercom announcing the departure of the Flagstaff to Denver flight. Passengers were instructed to board at gate four.

  “That’s us,” Bonnie said, sliding out of the booth.

  She and Clay walked to gate four and handed their passes to the clerk. When they got inside the small plane, Clay noticed that his assigned seat was two rows ahead of Bonnie’s and across the aisle. The seats were arranged with only one on each side of the aisle and four deep. There was a gentleman in a business suit and overcoat sitting in the seat across the aisle from Bonnie. Clay stood over the man and looked down on him.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Clay said. “Could I possibly change seats with you? I’m two seats straight ahead.”

  “Sure,” the man said, rising. “I didn’t want to sit this far back anyway.”

  “Thank you,” Clay said and took the seat across from Bonnie. He buckled his seat belt, settled in and sighed.

  Bonnie stowed her carry-on bag overhead and buckled herself in as well. She looked across the aisle at Clay and smiled. “Here we go,” she said.

  Once they were in the air and at cruising altitude, Clay unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over toward Bonnie, who had already unbuckled her belt. “Not quite as cozy as the first plane,” he said, “but we can still talk for a while.”

  And talk they did. Before they realized it, half of this last leg of the trip was behind them. Bonnie looked out her window and then over at Clay. “Did you know that right now we’re probably right over the only place in this whole country where four state’s borders meet?”

  “Really,” Clay said. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “It’s a fact,” Bonnie said. “Right below us is where Utah, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado come together to form kind of a plus sign. If you were down there, you could actually stand in four states all at the same time.”

  “No kidding,” Clay said. “Do people really want do that?”

  “Hey,” Bonnie said, “they actually have a place down there called Four Corners Monument with four parking lots. Of course there’s only one road to and from it. New Mexico put it up so it you want to visit it, you have to come through New Mexico.”

  “Learn something new every day,” Clay said and smiled across at Bonnie.

  They talked for another twenty minutes, occasionally holding hands like a couple of teenagers. Clay released Bonnie’s hand and leaned the other way, looking out his window at a combination of mountains and forest below. “Gees,” Clay said. “It looks like there’s enough lumber down there to build another Spruce Goose.”

  “A what?” Bonnie said, glancing out her own window.

  “A Spruce Goose,” Clay repeated. “Remember Howard Hughes and that big wooden airplane he built during World War II? The press dubbed that The Spruce Goose. It flew briefly just one time and it’s been in mothballs ever since. What a waste of time and perfectly good lumber.”

  Bonnie opened her mouth to ask Clay something but was interrupted by a sudden drop in altitude before the plane leveled off again. “Turbulence,” she said to Clay. “Nothing to be alarmed at.” She started to say something again and once more the plane dipped before righting itself again. She could see into the cockpit from where she sat. Out in front of the plane she spotted the familiar V shape of a flock of Canada Geese. They didn’t swerve and neither did the plane. Three of the geese hit the plane in the right propeller, causing the small aircraft to tip to the right. Bonnie nearly fell out of her seat from the impact.

  “What the hell was that?” Clay said.

  “I think we hit a goose or two,” Bonnie said.

  The other six passengers were excitedly talking now, most of them looking out their windows at the terrain below. The captain came on the intercom and informed the passengers that one of the engines had been disabled by a goose hitting it. As he talked, the goose at the end of the V impacted with the windshield across from the pilot. On its way into the windshield, the goose had come in contact with the tip of the left propeller, throwing off the prop’s balance. The plane shuddered and shook violently before the pilot killed the power to the left prop. His voice came back on the intercom.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the captain said, “it looks like we’ll be forced to make an emergency landing. Stay in your seat and buckle your seat belts. This may be a hard landing. Hang on.”

  Both engines were off now and the pilot was struggling with the yoke to try to glide the plane to the ground. Clay looked out his window and saw a clearing in the trees. It didn’t look very large from his vantage point and he hoped the captain possessed enough skill to set the small plane down in that clearing. The ground got closer and closer and the clearing appeared much bigger now, but the plane was drifting to the right. People in the other seats ahead of Clay were screaming or bending over in their seats. Some held their hands over their heads while others grabbed the arm rests of their seat and just gritted their teeth.

  Clay could see the treetops now, mostly pine and spruce. The plane drifted lower and lower until the treetops were level with Clay’s window. He wondered why the captain hadn’t lowered the landing wheels, but then realized that with all the snow on the ground, that the plane could probably slide on its belly easier than rolling through the snow.

  When the plane finally impacted with the ground, it jolted Clay in his seat. The plane bounced twice and then slid across the snowy terrain. It skidded sideways for a while and then came the crash. The plane’s left wing connected with a pine tree and ripped it from the fuselage. The plane spun halfway around and was now sliding backwards. Before the plane came to a complete stop, Clay glanced over at Bonnie. Her eyes were closed tightly and her lips were moving but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Clay tried to see ahead of him, through the cockpit. Just then the right wing caught another pine tree and spun the plane around again so that they were now sliding forward again. Through the cockpit, Clay could see a really large pine tree directly in their path.

  “Hold on,” he yelled to Bonnie and then braced himself for the impact.

  The plane’s nose made a dead center impact with the pine tree, smashing the rest of the windshield. Large branches broke off the tree and sailed through the windshield into the cockpit and up to the first two rows of seats. The plane finally stopped moving and it actually took Clay a few seconds to reali
ze that he’d come through the ordeal alive. His nose was bleeding, but it was nothing serious. He looked over at Bonnie, who was leaning against the left side of the fuselage. He unbuckled himself and stepped over to her seat, unbuckling her seatbelt as well. He held her head and turned it toward him.

  “Bonnie,” he said in a panic, “are you all right?”

  Bonnie opened her eyes and blinked a few times and then took in a deep breath. She looked into Clay’s eyes and blinked again. “I think so,” she said. “I don’t think anything’s broken.” Then she saw the blood on Clay’s face. “What happened to you?”

  “It’s just a bloody nose,” Clay said. “I’m fine. We’d better check the other passengers.”

  He and Bonnie started up the aisle, checking the condition of the other passengers as they proceeded. The guy sitting directly ahead of Clay was sitting with his head in an unusual angle. Clay touched the man’s head and it flopped to the other side. He was beyond help.

  The woman in the seat ahead of Bonnie’s looked worse than Clay. Her face was covered in blood and the top of her skull was caved in, but her eyes were fixed wide open. Bonnie quickly looked away.

  Two seats ahead of where Clay was sitting was the man he’d traded seats with. When Clay saw what the pine branch had done to this poor man, he turned and vomited in the aisle. That should have been me, Clay thought. Everyone else sitting forward of Bonnie and Clay was also killed in the impact.

  “Stay here,” Clay said, holding Bonnie back with his arm. “I’m going to look in on the captain.” He stepped up to the cockpit, pushing pine branches out of his way as he approached. A quick look into the cockpit confirmed what he had feared. The captain was still buckled into his seat but his head was gone. Clay jumped back away from the cockpit and turned toward Bonnie. “Don’t look,” he told her.

  *****

  Elliott Copper glanced at his watch and then over at his wife, Gloria. “Well,” he said, “Dad should just about be in Denver by now.”