Secrets That Kill: A Shelby Nichols Adventure Page 4

  “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.”

  “Yes I can. Please. I’ve got to try.”

  “Okay. We’ll see what we can do. Come with me.”

  I followed him to the frequent flyer line where he ushered me to the front, showing my ticket to the agent stationed there. “They’ll need to see your driver’s license too,” he said.

  I got it out and started placing my bags and phone onto the conveyer belt. Glancing back as I did, I noticed the goon talking into his phone. He was thinking that he’d failed to catch me, but from the looks of things I was probably going to miss my flight, and maybe he should stick around to see if I’d come back out. Or the boss might want him to buy a ticket and follow me to Terminal One, Gate Two. If the boss thought it was worth it, that’s what he’d do next.

  The agent handed back my boarding pass and my driver’s license, telling me I needed to take the AGT train to Airside One, Gate Two as fast as I could. “I’ll let them know you’re coming, but I’m not sure how long they can wait.”

  “Thanks so much,” I said. He was thinking I wasn’t going to make it, but he’d seen some pretty crazy things happen before. As long as they didn’t close the cabin door to the cockpit, I had a small chance.

  While he spoke into a radio, hope poured over me. He thought I had a chance. I started to walk through the metal detector, but the security guard stopped me. “Your shoes,” the guard said. “You need to take them off.”

  “Right, okay.” Flustered, I slipped them off and put them on the conveyer belt, waiting for the security guard’s nod before passing through the metal detector. No warning bells rang, and I heaved a sigh of relief. Now all I had to do was get everything put back together and run to the train. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my things, and managed to jump on the train right before the doors closed.

  According to the voice over the intercom, I now had sixty-eight seconds until the train pulled into Terminal One. That was fast, right? I checked the time. Two minutes after three. Would they wait? The train slowed to a stop and I rushed out, frantic to follow the signs to Gate Two. My lungs were heaving by the time I got there.

  The PSA worker at the desk was watching for me and took my boarding pass. Hurry,” she said, ushering me toward the door. I started inside, but an agent coming down the aisle stopped me. He shook his head. “Sorry, the door is closed. We can’t let you on.”

  “Really? Are you sure?” I asked, panting for breath.

  “Yes,” he said, his face creased with sympathy. “We waited an extra five minutes. But when the captain says it’s time to go, there’s nothing we can do about it.” He was thinking one minute faster, and I would have made it. “Let’s see if we can get you on the next flight out.”

  As he ushered me back to the desk, I swore under my breath and clenched my fists. I’d missed it by one lousy minute? How could I be so close and not get on? The plane was right there! Why couldn’t they just open the damn door and let me in? I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Freaking out wasn’t going to get me anywhere. But after everything I’d been through, this was almost too much.

  The PSA lady who’d waited for me was busy at her computer, trying to find an empty seat on the next flight that left at five-twenty. She pursed her lips, thinking the best she could do was put me on standby. The flight after that wasn’t until eight-ten, but it was full too.

  She checked all the upcoming flights heading to my destination, and the only one that had an empty seat wasn’t until the next day in the afternoon. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t sit around the airport all day, hoping to get on standby. She’d take the sure thing of the empty seat the next day, since that was the one I’d probably end up on anyway.

  She glanced at me, thinking she hated this part of her job when she had to deal with people who were going to be disappointed and upset. They always acted like it was her fault. Was I going to be like one of them? She’d just have to remind me that it was my fault for being late in the first place.

  As I listened to her thoughts, I watched the plane slowly back away from the gate. I followed the plane’s progress toward the tarmac and a feeling of sadness came over me. Tears gathered in my eyes. I hated being left behind. What if something happened to me and I never saw my family again?

  I reached for my phone and quickly called Chris, but it went straight to voicemail. They’d probably been told to turn off all their electronic devices. I left a message. “Hey Chris,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I’m standing here watching the plane leave the gate. It’s awful to be this close and not be on it with you. I hate being left behind. Anyway, they’re going to try and get me on the next flight, so call me as soon as you can, and I’ll give you an update. I love you. Bye.”

  Chapter 3

  I didn’t feel safe leaving the terminal, so I told the worker to put me on standby for the next few flights. She’d heard my message to Chris and was feeling sorry for me. She also booked the open seat on the flight the next afternoon, but didn’t have the heart to tell me that was the one I’d probably end up on.

  After getting the boarding information from her, I found a seat in the boarding area and sat down for a minute, trying to decide what to do next. The worker left a few minutes later, leaving me abandoned and alone. The place was practically deserted, and I glanced nervously at anyone new, wondering if the bad guy had bought a ticket and was going to show up any moment now.

  My hands shaking with nervous tension, I knew it was time to call Uncle Joey.

  He answered cheerily. “Hi Shelby. You must be back. How was your vacation?”

  “Which part?” I asked. “The part where I had a good time with my family, or the part where I’m stuck alone at the airport because
of a letter I had to deliver?”

  “I take it, it didn’t go so well?” he said.

  “No, and now they’re after me.”

  “They’re after you?” he asked. “Who’s after you?”

  “Carson’s goons,” I said, slightly satisfied to make him nervous.

  “What?” he shouted. “What the hell’s going on?”

  I explained that Warren had begged me to deliver the package to Uncle Joey for him. “He said he’d die if I didn’t do it, so I…”

  “Wait a minute,” he interrupted. “All I told you to do was deliver the letter. That’s it! Why would you go along with Warren? He’s a…a…oh, never mind.” I heard him take a deep breath. “Just tell me what happened.”

  I told him the whole story and ended with missing my flight. “That guy is either going to wait until I come back out, or he’s going to buy a ticket and show up here. He knows where I am. What should I do?”

  “And the thumb-drive is still in the cleaning closet?” he asked.

  “I guess.”

  “Okay, go hide in the restroom until I call you back.” The line went dead and I put my phone back into my pocket. Hide in the restroom? Was he serious? I thought about it, but couldn’t think of anything better, so I found the restroom and took a seat on the lounge chair just inside the door.

  I pulled the book I was reading out of my bag, hoping reading would distract me while I waited for Uncle Joey or Chris to call me back. After reading the same paragraph over and over again, I couldn’t even remember what I’d read, so I put the book away, too nervous and distracted to concentrate. If it was this bad now, how was I going to last until tomorrow afternoon?

  A few people came in and out, and each time the door opened I held my breath, worried the goon had found me. Soon, my nerves were shot. Maybe I should just leave. But where would I go? My phone vibrated, interrupting my paranoid thoughts, and I eagerly grabbed it from my pocket.

  “This is what we’re going to do,” Uncle Joey said. “I’m sending Ramos in my private jet. He just left for the airport. He’ll be there in about two and a half hours.”

  “He will?” I asked. I didn’t know Uncle Joey had a private jet. “What should I do until he gets here?”

  “I want you to go back to the shops and buy a hat or something to disguise yourself with, and find a place to eat. Try to sit at a corner table and order some food. Maybe read the paper or a magazine to cover your face. Stay there until Ramos comes. He’ll text you when he lands and you can meet up with him. Whatever you do, don’t leave the secure part of the airport. Can you do that?”

  “Sure,” I said. Why hadn’t I thought of a disguise? He made it sound so simple.

  “Great. Call me at once if you get into trouble.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you soon.” Uncle Joey disconnected, and an odd feeling of warmth spread through me. He was sending Ramos in his private jet, just for me. That was so nice.

  Wait a minute. There had to be more to it. Uncle Joey never did anything without an ulterior motive. The only thing I could think of was the thumb-drive. Ramos probably had orders to get it while he was here…still, I could hardly begrudge him that.

  I slipped out of the restroom, walking purposefully toward the shops and restaurants, ducking into the first shop I came to. Since Orlando was the theme-park capitol of the world, most of the t-shirts had Disneyland or Harry Potter stuff on them. I finally found a pink t-shirt with Orlando printed in flowers across the front, and got the large so I could wear it over my clothes.

  There were lots of hats, and I thought a floppy one would cover my hair and face better than a baseball cap. I found a cute white one with a pink flower on the side and tried it on. It did a good job of covering my head, but I looked kind of silly. The store worker was thinking the same thing, so I put it back.

  Then I found it. The perfect hat. It was called a hair-hat, and had what looked like a visor with short hair poking out the top. Excited, I found a pink one with whitish-blond hair sticking up and hurried over to a mirror to try it on.

  I twisted my hair and tucked it into the top of the cap, pulling the hat in place. It looked kind of real. This was great, plus I’d always wondered what I’d look like with short hair. With it standing up like that, I looked like a punk kid, or a pixie. If I could find some pointy ears to put over mine, it would make a great Halloween costume. I liked it.

  The lady at the counter smiled, thinking if I were trying to surprise someone, they wouldn’t recognize me at first with that hat on. She rang up my purchases and even cut the tags off so I could wear them. After slipping on the shirt, I went back to the mirror and got the hat on right. This time it looked even better. Satisfied, I waved at the clerk and left the store, feeling relieved and a little hopeful that I could get through this.

  I was even ready to eat something. Knowing I had over two and a half hours to kill, I wanted to find a table and chair that was soft as well as out of the way. Since I didn’t think the goon would recognize me now, even if he did manage to get a ticket, I took my time to wander around like a real tourist.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I quickly pulled it out. It was Chris calling me back. I felt a moment of panic, but decided to tell him the truth that Uncle Joey was sending Ramos for me. Of course, that meant explaining what had happened to Warren. Did I really want to do that now?

  “Hi honey,” I answered. “How’s the flight?”

  “Not good,” he said. “Mostly because you’re not here. What happened?”

  “I missed it by one lousy minute,” I exclaimed. “I was right there, and they wouldn’t let me get on. It was awful.”

  “So what’s the plan now? Are you coming on the next flight?”

  “The next flight with an open seat isn’t until tomorrow afternoon, so I’m booked on that one.”

  “You’re kidding! What about stand-by?” he asked.

  “They put me on stand-by for the other two flights that are leaving later today, but the PSA worker didn’t think I’d get on either of them.”

  “So what are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I’ve got another plan in place,” I said. “But I can’t really talk about it right now. Can I call you back? I’m going to find someplace to sit down and eat. I’ll call you back in just a few minutes.”

  He sighed before agreeing. “Okay. I’ll give you ten minutes.” We said goodbye and disconnected.

  With my attention on the phone call, I hadn’t been watching for Carson’s goon, and quickly glanced around me to see if I’d missed anything. Luckily, nothing stood out and I continued toward the food court.

  On my way there, I bought a magazine that I never would have read at home, and at last, came upon a restaurant with waitresses and everything. Relieved to get this far, I asked for a corner table, and the hostess led me to the perfect spot. From here I could see people coming and going as well as those wandering in the corridors. Plus it was private enough to talk on my phone without worrying about someone listening in.

  I waited until the waitress had taken my order and brought me my Diet Coke before I called Chris back.

  “You’re late,” he growled.

  “I know, sorry. I had to get situated and…

  “Just tell me what’s going on,” Chris interrupted. “The whole story. Start after you left this morning.”

  “Okay.” I sighed and took a deep breath, explaining as simply and quietly as I could what had happened to Warren, and his last thought about me, and how Carson thought I had the thumb-drive. “The police needed to talk to me before I could leave for the airport, and once I got here, one of Carson’s goons was following me. I lost him at the security gate, but he was thinking about getting a ticket and coming to this terminal, so he might still be here looking for me. That’s why I was late.”

  “Uhng,” Chris mumbled.

  “So I called Uncle Joey,” I quickly continued, worried how Chr
is was taking it. “He told me to buy a hat and a magazine to hide behind, while I ate some food and waited for Ramos.”

  “Ra..Ramos? What the…? How…?”

  “Oh…he’s sending Ramos in his private jet to come get me.” I waited for a response from Chris, but the line was silent. Had we been cut off? “Are you there?” I asked. “Chris?”

  “I…I’m here,” he answered. “Just give me a minute…” I waited, visualizing how Chris was probably rubbing his forehead right now and trying really hard not to get angry. Or yell and ask me what I was thinking. “Okay,” he said. “Anything else?”

  “Not really. I’ll be fine,” I said, wanting to reassure him that he didn’t need to worry about me. “Ramos should get here about the same time you get home. I don’t know what the plans are after that, but I should be home later tonight, or maybe tomorrow. It all depends…I mean, if I know Uncle Joey, we’ll probably have to get the thumb-drive before we head back. So it might be tomorrow. But at least I won’t have to worry about that guy chasing me with Ramos here. Right?”

  “Yeah…right.” I got the definite impression that Chris wasn’t happy about this arrangement. “Just…do me a favor.”

  “Sure,” I agreed.

  “When he gets there, call me.”

  “Oh…of course,” I said.

  “And then I want to talk to him. Got that?” His voice was hard and unyielding.

  “Uh…sure. What about?” I asked, suddenly nervous.

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said with a placating tone. “It’s just between him and me. Something I need to tell him.”

  Now was one of those times I wished I could read minds over the phone. I had an idea of what Chris might say, and upon reflection, decided it was probably better to stay out of it. “Okay. I’ll make sure you get to talk to him.”

  “Good,” he sighed. “I guess…I mean with…”

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Just say it. I’m pretty sure you’re mad at me. I would be too if I were you. It’s okay if you want to yell at me.”