Secrets That Kill (4 page)

A group of people came into the restaurant wheeling a gurney to pick up the body. The grim sight reminded me that I wasn’t out of danger yet. Not with Warren’s warning rattling around in my head. Were Carson and his goons watching for me? My stomach tightened. I needed to get out of here.

I walked to the front of the restaurant and glanced out the window. Lots of police cars and yellow tape surrounded the entrance and filled the parking lot. There was no way I would find a taxi without calling a cab company. I turned back to search for the hostess and ask for a phone book.

She was sitting in a booth with another worker, and stood as I approached. “I need to call a cab,” I said. “Do you have a phone book or a number handy?”

“Yeah, we keep the number at the hostess desk for emergencies,” she said. She was thinking that the police and yellow tape had probably scared my lover off, so now I had to pay for my own ride home.

I could hardly believe how judgmental she was and decided that she’d been watching too much TV. From my experience listening to people’s thoughts, I knew most regular people didn’t do half the things other people assumed they did. “Here it is,” she said, handing me a laminated piece of paper with the phone number on it. “Do you need a phone?”

“No, but thanks.” I took a seat in the waiting area, needing some space to get my purse back out of my bag where it was stuffed. I pulled out my phone, only to realize I’d missed several calls and text messages…all from Chris. Oops. I sent a quick text telling him I was fine and I’d call soon. After that I called the cab company. Lucky for me the paper had the name and address of the restaurant at the top, so I could tell the cab people where to pick me up.

“We’ll have someone there shortly,” the cab operator said.

“How long will that take?” I asked, feeling the time ticking away.

“Um…about ten minutes or so,” she answered.

I thanked her and ended the call, worried about the “or so” part of her answer. Usually when people added things like that, it meant at least five to ten minutes more than what they said, but since I couldn’t hear her thoughts over the phone, I was just guessing. Maybe this time I’d be wrong, and the cab would be here a few minutes early. Now I was just kidding myself. With the way things had gone so far today, I didn’t stand a chance.

I should probably call Chris now and let him know, but I didn’t want to do it where someone might overhear my conversation. I pushed open the door and stepped outside, glancing up and down the street. A few policemen stood inside the yellow tape beside me, and the coroner’s truck with Warren’s body was just pulling out. A small crowd had gathered to gawk, and I noticed a news reporter talking into a camera. She spotted me and hurried over to get an eyewitness account.

Yikes! I ducked back into the restaurant. No way was I going to get my face plastered all over the news. I’d just have to wait until I got into the cab to call Chris. I stood by the window where I could see when the cab arrived, and settled in to wait. It wasn’t long before the other people in the restaurant began to leave, and I watched the reporter pounce on them. It kept me entertained for a little while until the reporter and cameraman packed up their stuff and left.

After that, the seconds passed slowly, stretching my nerves to the limit. I wanted to get out of there so bad I couldn’t stand still, tapping my foot and changing position every few minutes like a crazy person. I stared out the window, chewing on my fingernails, worried that the cab could find a place to park that wasn’t a block away. Then I worried that he’d wait for me to walk that far once he got there. Where was he? Fifteen long minutes had come and gone and still no sign of him.

As the cab finally pulled up across the street, the detectives finished up, and were just walking toward me to leave. I wanted to get out of there before them, but Detective Fitch beat me to the door and held it open for me. I told him thanks and rushed out before he could question me about why I was still there.

I quickly crossed the street to the cab with Fitch’s thoughts coming through loud and clear. The fact that I was still at the restaurant after so long had aroused his suspicions, and now he was wondering why I was taking a cab. He wished he had gotten my home address. Maybe he should ask me to wait before it was too….

I closed the door, blocking out the rest of his thoughts, and told the cab driver to take me to the airport as fast as he could. As we pulled away, I glanced out the window. Detective Fitch had opened his car door, but paused to watch me leave. He was still standing there when the cab took me around a corner and I lost sight of him.

That was close. I buckled my seat belt and pulled out my phone. Chris answered on the first ring. “Hi honey,” I said, keeping my voice cheerful so he wouldn’t know how much trouble I was in.

“Where are you?” he practically shouted. “You should have been here an hour ago. Why haven’t you called before now? What’s going on?”

“I’m in a cab on my way there,” I explained. “Hang on a minute, and I’ll ask the driver how long it will take to get to the airport.”

The driver had been listening, but waited for me to ask before he told me. He was thinking it would take about thirty to thirty-five minutes if we were lucky. “I can get you there in about forty-five minutes if traffic isn’t too bad,” he said. “This time of day, you never know. Could be more, could be less. We’ll just have to wait and see.” He was thinking I would give him a better tip if he got me there before he’d said he would.

I thanked him and turned back to Chris, going with the shortest time. “About half an hour. Will that work? Do you think I can make it?” I heard him sigh before he replied.

“Maybe,” he said. “But if you’re any longer, you probably won’t. Maybe we should wait and take a later flight.”

“No, I don’t want to do that. I want to get home.” I had to take the chance that I’d get there because I didn’t want to stay in Orlando another minute longer than necessary. “Listen, if I don’t make it, I’ll take a later flight and you guys can go ahead. It’s not what I want to do, but I still think I can make this flight, so let’s not change anything.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean… I’d hate to leave you behind.”

“If it happens, it happens… I’ll deal with it,” I said. “I’m sure there’s another flight later today that I can get on. Since you’ve already gone through security and the bags are checked onto the plane, you might as well go. Besides, I think I can still make it. So what Terminal and Gate should I go to?”

“Have the cab take you to the A side of the Main Terminal. You’ll need to check in, but just do it curbside through a skycap. I think that will be faster. From there you’ll need to go to Airside Terminal One, and Gate Two. Got that?” he asked.

“A side, Airside Terminal One and Gate Two,” I repeated. “Got it.”

“Good. There wasn’t a long line at security when we got there, so you might be all right.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll make it.”

“I sure hope so.” He sighed. “So what happened? Why are you so late?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” I hedged. “I had to take a detour and some things happened to delay me, but I’m okay now.”

“Now?” His voice sounded anxious. “What does that mean? When weren’t you okay?”

I tried to figure out how to respond with the cab driver listening to every word I said. He was pretty interested to know what had happened to me, especially since he’d seen the yellow crime-scene tape and heard on the radio that someone had been killed at the restaurant where he’d picked me up. Was I involved in that? Was that why I was so anxious to leave the city? The cops might be interested to know he’d taken me to the airport. Let’s see… A side, Terminal One, and Gate Two… he’d be sure to remember that.

“Sounds good,” I said cheerfully. “I’ll see you soon and tell you all about it. Love you too! Bye!” I disconnected. Shame and remorse coursed through me. I had just hung up on my husband. Not good. That made me a bad wife. He was going to be so mad. But I didn’t have a choice! Not with the stupid cab driver listening to every word I said. Damn! I sent a quick text telling Chris I’d explain everything later and slipped the phone into my jeans pocket.

“How close are we to the airport now?” I asked the cabbie.

“Um… about half an hour. When does your flight leave?” He was thinking it would be good to know my destination as well.

“If we’re there in half an hour, I’ve got plenty of time,” I answered. I wasn’t about to tell him anything, not after I had to hang up on Chris because of him. He was too nosey for his own good. What happened to people who didn’t want to get involved? Why couldn’t I have gotten a taxi driver like that?

I silently fumed, feeling helpless as the seconds ticked by. I checked my phone, hoping Chris had replied to my text, but there were no new messages. I sent another one telling him I was almost there, hoping it was true. I perked up when signs for the airport came into sight. It couldn’t be too far away now. Five minutes later, my cab pulled into the exit for the airport. My phone chirped with a message from Chris. He said to hurry because they were now boarding the plane.

All ready? My heart sank. I checked the time. It was two-forty. I couldn’t give up now. I might still make it. Only a few more minutes and I’d be there. I took out my ticket, texted Chris back saying that I would hurry, and got ready to jump out of the taxi.

The cab driver checked his rear-view mirror several times, and as we got closer to the drop-off point, he was thinking about the car behind us. It had been following for a long time, maybe even since he’d picked me up. He glanced at me, concerned that I was hiding something from the police after all. This might get ugly. I might get shot or taken into custody without paying him. He wasn’t going to let me out until he saw green.

My heart raced, but I resisted the urge to look out the back window. Who could be following me? It was either Detective Fitch or Carson’s goons. At this point, I hoped it was the detective. “I’ve got to hurry,” I said. “How much do I owe you?” I’d kept the cash from my earlier ride in my jeans pocket, and pulled it out to show him.

“Fifty should do it,” he said, then added, “Since I got you here in good time.” He named a higher price because he didn’t think I’d leave a tip. He was right about that.

I undid my seatbelt and counted out the cash, then reached between the seats and placed it on the passenger seat. “There you go… it’s all there,” I said, answering his unspoken question.

“Good,” he nodded, and pulled to the curb.

I threw my bag over my shoulder and jumped out as soon as the car stopped. Rushing to the skycap with my ticket, I glanced back and caught a glimpse of the car behind the taxi. It kept going, then quickly pulled over, and the passenger door flew open. A man stepped out, glancing toward me. I gasped. It was the same guy who’d been looking for me at the restaurant.

“Is that your ticket?” The skycap asked.

“Oh, yes.” I handed it over, keeping my attention on the man following me. My mouth went dry, and my pulse raced. He started to get in line behind me, but another person beat him to it, so he got behind that person.

“Um… I don’t think you’re going to make it,” the skycap said. “The plane has already boarded.”

“I’ve got to try,” I said. “My family is on that plane.”

“Then you’d better run.” He shook his head, thinking it would be close. “Here’s your boarding pass. It’s Airside One, Gate Two. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed the pass and ran toward the sliding doors, hoping the guy was too far away to hear where I was headed.

I pushed into the crowd of people, looking up at the overhead arrows to make sure I was headed toward Airside One. I followed the arrows and ran toward the security gates. It was hard to keep going since my legs were shaking so badly. If the guy was following, I hoped I could get through security before he caught up with me.

My shoulder blades itched, as if someone were aiming a gun at my back, but I couldn’t turn around and look, so I did the next best thing. I focused my mind on the thoughts of those behind me.

I caught a few random thoughts before I zeroed in on his mind. He was there, but keeping a small distance between us. He was trying to figure out how to stop me without anyone noticing. If I made it to security, he’d lose me for sure.

Yikes! I had to make it now. In the distance, the black security screening monitors and metal detectors came into view. I was almost there! Hope swelled in my heart, and I heard the guy cursing in his mind that he couldn’t catch me.

I jogged the last few steps toward the checkpoint and lurched into line in front of a couple of people, who gasped in displeasure. “Sorry!” I said. “But I’m late, and I can’t miss my flight.”

The guy following me was thinking this was his chance to grab my arm and tell me to move to the back of the line. I dodged to the side and he missed. Before either of us could make another move, a Passenger Service Agent jumped into the fray. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

I spoke almost before he finished, cutting off my assailant’s complaints. “My flight is boarding with my husband and kids. I’ve got to get on. Can you please help me?”

“Do you have your boarding pass?” he asked.

“Yes.” I handed it to him. “The skycap said he’d radio ahead.”

He took the pass and shook his head. “I don’t think you’re going to make it.”