The Key in the Attic(50)
“He’s pulling into the stack-up garage.” Alice shaded her eyes. “We’ll lose him if we take time to park.”
Annie glanced at her list. “OK, we know where he has to go. Mary Beth, pull up to the terminal and let us out. Once you’ve parked, come over to the security checkpoint for Gate Eleven, but stay out of sight. Got it?”
“We’ll lose him,” Mary Beth protested.
“No. It’ll take him a while to get parked and get his suitcase out. By the time he checks in, Alice and I will be watching for him. It’s a good thing this isn’t DFW though. We’d never find him.”
“You’re telling me. I’ve been through the Dallas/Fort Worth airport. It’s like a major city all by itself.” Alice stopped suddenly. “What if he checks his luggage in at the curb? Some airlines let you, you know.”
“It doesn’t matter. If he thinks that clock is valuable enough to steal, he’s not going to let it out of his sight. It’ll be in his carry-on. Don’t you think so, Mary Beth?”
“I’m still not sure about this whole idea,” Mary Beth said, a pained look on her face.
She pulled up to the terminal, and Annie and Alice hurried out. Annie was glad to find the terminal was just one long building for all the airlines. That meant there was only one for Frank Sanders to come through.
They took the escalator up to the security area and found seats near Gate Eleven. Sanders would have to come here to check in for Flight 3789, but they were—Annie hoped—too far away for Sanders to notice them.
“We have a good view from here.” Annie sat down, scanning the crowd, trying not to get nervous. “When he shows up, we have to talk to him before he can check in. Once he’s past that scanner, we can’t get to him unless we buy tickets.”
Alice fidgeted in her chair, looking around too. “I wish he’d hurry up. This is killing me.”
In a few minutes, Mary Beth hurried up to them and sat down. For a long while, she merely clutched her purse, saying nothing. Then, finally, she bit her lip. “I can’t do this.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Mary Beth.” Annie gave her arm a reassuring pat. “Just stay over here out of the way. If there’s trouble, get security.”
Mary Beth nodded.
“OK, then,” Annie said. “He’s not violent.”
“Just sneaky,” Alice added with a giggle.
Annie giggled, too, and then her eyes widened. “Here he comes. Shh!”
Sanders was headed toward the check-in line, a small, hard-sided suitcase rolling along behind him.
“The clock has to be in there,” Annie whispered. “It’s the perfect size.”
Sanders stopped at the end of the line. There were maybe a dozen people ahead of him, and he looked past them as he waited, not really seeing anyone, just passing the time until his turn came.
He certainly is a cool customer, Annie thought. Then she swallowed hard. Or maybe he really didn’t have anything to do with the missing clock.
No, it couldn’t be that! It would be too much of a coincidence for him to be taking a trip to Virginia of all places and today of all days. Besides, the worst he could do is prove he didn’t have the clock in his bag and go on his flight assured that she was truly out of her mind. He wouldn’t press harassment charges against her, would he?
It was a risk she’d have to take.
She nodded reassuringly to Mary Beth and then motioned to Alice to follow her. They crept to the back of the line behind Sanders. Annie counted ten slow breaths and then moistened her lips and smiled.
“Mr. Sanders! It seems we’re always running into each other.”
He turned. She caught just an instant of panic in his eyes, and then the nearly suave smile replaced it.
“Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Dawson. Again. You’re not on this flight, are you?”
She shrugged, trying to look innocently nonchalant. “Virginia is a lovely state. And I always enjoy looking at the wild places, places where there are still open fields and flowers. …” She smiled a little more. “… and trees.”
He nodded. “Yeah. They’re clearing out more and more places like that every day. I guess if we don’t see them now, we’ll never get the chance, eh? Well, enjoy your visit. I’m going to be at auctions all day. Still, it should be interesting. I love collecting rare old pieces.”
“Even if they belong to someone else?
She narrowed her eyes at him, but still he smiled.
“Still making unfounded accusations, are we, Mrs. Dawson? I don’t know what else I can do besides tell you I didn’t have anything to do with the theft of your friend’s clock. You’ve already been to the police with this, and they told you there isn’t any evidence.” His expression turned serious, and he moved almost imperceptibly closer. “I really don’t want to have to tell the police you’ve been harassing me. That just wouldn’t be very nice.”