The Key in the Attic(49)
“They won’t do anything.” Alice leaned up from the backseat. “They don’t have any evidence against him, and they more or less said they have more important things to do.”
Annie scowled. “Well, if he is headed for the airport, that would be quite a coincidence, wouldn’t it?”
Mary Beth pulled her SUV into the left lane, three cars behind the lime green compact Sanders was driving. “It’s crazy, I tell you. Sitting outside his house all morning and then following him. We’re not the police or FBI, you know.”
“So we’re private detectives,” Alice said with a laugh.
Annie let her expression soften. “Maybe not detectives,” she said, “but a trio of Jessica Fletchers.”
Mary Beth pressed her lips together. “We really don’t have any business doing this, you know. I can’t believe I let the two of you talk me into it. We could get into all kinds of trouble taking the law into our own hands like this. After all, it’s just a clock.”
“No, I’m sure it’s more than that, Mary Beth. There’s something more in it, something Sanders knows about.” Annie checked her watch. They still had plenty of time. “Besides, all we’re going to do is watch him at a public place. He’s headed south, so we still don’t know if he’s driving to the airport or to Virginia.”
“I can’t imagine he’d drive all the way to Virginia,” Alice said, her brow knitted in thought, “not if he’s trying to get there in a hurry.”
“That’s what I’m betting on,” Annie said, nodding. “If he drives to Virginia, we’re sunk, so if he doesn’t turn off at the airport, then we’ll just head back home, fair enough?”
“And if he does?” Mary Beth asked, clearly unconvinced.
Annie glanced first at Alice and then at Mary Beth. “Then we’ll just see what happens. We’re not going to do anything dangerous.”
Mary Beth exhaled heavily, and no one said anything for the next few minutes. Sanders was still headed for the airport. At least that lime green car of his stood out in traffic. It was unlikely he would recognize any of them through the tinted windows of Mary Beth’s SUV or think anyone was following him. Lots of people drove to the airport every day, didn’t they? That is, if indeed, Sanders was headed for the airport.
Soon they were approaching the turnoff for Congress Street. If he were going to catch a flight, he’d have to turn now. The car’s signal light flashed Sanders’s intent to exit.
“He’s got his blinker on. He’s going.” Alice leaned up from the backseat again, as much as her seatbelt would let her. “Don’t lose him!”
Setting her mouth in a determined line, Mary Beth pulled out of the left lane and worked her way through to the exit. They were five cars behind Sanders now.
“No, no, no,” Annie muttered when a moving van blocked their view. “Do you see him, Alice?”
“No. Oh wait! There he is. He’s pulled into the left lane again.”
Mary Beth dutifully pulled into the left lane.
“No, don’t do that,” Alice told her. “It’s too obvious.”
With a sigh, Mary Beth put on her right blinker.
“No!” Annie and Alice said at the same time, and Mary Beth glanced at them, bewildered.
“You’ll only make him notice you if you keep changing lanes. Just drive like you usually would. Don’t do anything to attract attention.” Annie gave her a steadying smile. “You’re doing fine. Just keep on.”
Sanders was only two cars ahead of them now, and Annie could see him fiddling with the radio, bobbing his head and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, no doubt keeping time to the music. He seemed relaxed enough—smug even.
“You don’t think he can see us, do you?” Mary Beth’s eyes were wide, and her voice was barely above a whisper.
Annie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“And he certainly can’t hear us,” Alice added with a laugh.
Soon they were on International Parkway, heading for the parking areas of the Portland International Jetport. The lime green compact was still several cars ahead of them.
“What now?” Mary Beth asked.
Annie scanned the page of notepaper in her hand and then peered out at Sanders’s car.
“I’m pretty sure he’ll have to go on United. They have a flight at 2:20 that will get him to Dulles, and he’ll have to rent a car to drive into Virginia. If that is his flight, we need Gate Eleven. If he’s on a later flight, I don’t think he would drive out here so early and just sit around the airport—not if he has your clock with him.”