Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #4: Books 13-16 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (best ereader for academics .txt) 📕

as though she might understand what she meant. “A bit too boisterous, a bit too noisy, joking a bit too much.”

“Was that unusual?”

Her face said she wasn’t sure. “He got like that sometimes, especially in the last two or three years. It depended on the case he was on. If it was difficult, or involved long hours or surveillance, sometimes he would come home a bit hyper like that. But last night was a bit over the top.”

“Did anything happen?”

“No, not then. Nothing special. We had dinner, we watched some TV. Then, about eleven thirty me and the girls went up. He said he had to do a little work on the computer and he’d be right up.”

She stopped. Her bottom lip curled in and she started to cry again, speaking in a strange, twisted voice. “But, I came down to get a glass of water. He didn’t hear me, and I saw, on the screen, he was booking a plane ticket! A ticket to Mexico! Where is he going? Why is he doing this? What’s happening?”

“Did you get any of the details of the flight, Mrs. Davis?”

“I think it said the flight was Delta, at fifteen twenty. That’s three twenty, right?”

I stood and walked into the hall, dialing the inspector.

“John! What’s happening?”

I spoke quietly, walking down to the kitchen. “He’s gone AWOL. He’s booked on a Delta flight to Mexico at three twenty. You need to alert the airports. Find out which airports have flights to Mexico at three twenty. Let me know and we’ll head out to intercept him.”

“OK, stand by.”

I went back to the living room. Mrs. Davis was talking to Dehan.

“He said it was part of an undercover operation, something to do with a drugs bust, a joint operation between vice and homicide. He said the ticket wasn’t for him. It seemed very odd to me, but you know, he never really wanted me to get involved with his work. He always said that home was his haven from all that. That’s why…” She stared up at me. “It seemed so odd that he would be doing that at home. He never brought his work home.”

“Has he packed any clothes?”

She nodded silently. “And his passport is gone. I haven’t checked our account yet. What has he done?”

I sighed and said truthfully, “We don’t know yet, Mrs. Davis. That’s what we are trying to find out.”

She turned to Dehan. “He got up with me this morning, which he has never done. He’s always up very early. And he kissed me very tenderly when he saw me off at the door. I felt then it was like he was saying goodbye. Is he going to come back?”

Dehan squeezed her hand. “Let’s just take it one step at a time. We are as surprised as you are, Mrs. Davis.”

My phone rang. It was the inspector. “John, it’s John here. We have a Delta flight out of JFK, at three twenty exactly. I have alerted security, though it’s a bit late. If you get moving, you should have time to get there before it takes off.”

I glanced out the window at the rain. I said, “Yeah, OK. We’re on our way.” I turned to face her. “Mrs. Davis, we are going to try to catch up with your husband before he boards the plane. We will let you know as soon as we know something. Meantime, have you got anybody who can come and be with you?”

She nodded. “I’ll call my sister. Please bring him back to us.”

Dehan gave her a hug and said, “We’ll do our best. I promise.”

The rain had eased from a monsoon to a steady downpour. We clambered into the Jaguar and I fired her up. As we pulled out onto the road, I smiled. Dehan said, “You’re smiling. That is inappropriate right now.”

I glanced at her. “It always amuses me,” I said. “You are such a badass with such a bad attitude, but underneath, you’re just a big, soppy blancmange.”

She didn’t answer. She just stared out at the rain as we moved north and then south toward the Hutchinson River Bridge, but I thought I saw her smile.

TWELVE

The massive hall was packed with what looked like thousands of people. There was a hum of voices that echoed overhead almost like a cathedral. Behind me, the doors hissed open to the sound of the downpour, then closed, leaving only the smell and the shiver of the damp. Everywhere there were wet coats, closed, dripping umbrellas, plastic macs, red, blue, yellow and transparent, milling, swilling, jostling, pushing, pulling and carrying luggage of every shape and size.

I said to Dehan, “You find the Delta check in desks. See if he’s in the line or if he’s checked in. I’m going to Departures. See if he’s there or if he’s gone through.”

“K!”

She moved off through the crowd and I half ran, pushing through the seething, wet bodies toward Departures, scanning the crowds as I went. I knew the inspector had contacted airport security, but that was no guarantee that Lenny would be seen, recognized or stopped. It takes time to set up something like that and make everybody aware of a particular face and name—a face and name that gets added to a hundred other faces and names to be on the lookout for. It would be enough for him to be wearing a hat, or glasses, for him to go through unnoticed.

I approached the long, curling line of bodies that was snaking its way through security into the departure lounge. There must have been two or three hundred of them, shuffling one by one through passport control and moving on toward the scanners.

I ducked under the tape and started making my way toward the passport control desks. A big, burly guy from Airport Security