“We’ve been in the air about two hours. It won’t be long now.”
The woman lifted her book up and Mickey glanced around. No one else had been disturbed by the turbulence. Hell, she wouldn’t have been either if she hadn’t almost died in a plane crash a couple weeks ago. The plane dipped again and her nerves shook. She needed to get up and stretch her legs, do something to keep her mind busy.
Stepping into the small aisle, she smiled at the flight attendant at the back of the plane. Mindy? Mandy? She shook her head and walked toward the front cabin. It didn’t matter what the woman’s name was. She’d probably never see her again anyway. As she approached the middle of the plane, the door to the cockpit swung open and anxiety formed a tight knot in the pit of her stomach. The co-pilot stepped out and flashed a brilliant smile at her and she bit into her tongue to keep from screaming at him. He turned to walk into the bathroom, and her breath caught in her throat.
No, not again. Close the damn door.
As if he read her mind, he turned back toward the cockpit and closed the door before heading into the bathroom. Relief washed through her and her knees buckled. Her hand gripped the chair beside her and she swayed against the woman in the aisle seat. She glanced down to apologize, and shock rooted her to the spot.
“Paula? Is that you?”
The woman in the seat beside her glanced in her direction. Large, dark sunglasses covered her eyes and a wide-brim hat satlow on her head. Mickey had noticed how ridiculous the woman had looked when she’d boarded the plane, but hadn’t given her much thought. But now, there was no doubt in her mind it was Paula sitting beside an older man who was definitely not Jose.
Her eyes were hidden behind the glasses, but if they were as blank as the rest of her face, Paula showed no signs of recognizing her. Mickey crouched down in the aisle so their faces were inches apart.
“Paula, why are you going to Chicago? Where’s Jose?”
The older man beside her leaned over and held Mickey’s gaze. “Excuse me, miss, but I think you’re mistaken. This is my wife, Marcia.”
Mickey straightened and looked down at the man with kind brown eyes and an easy smile. Something wasn’t right. The woman by his side might be acting strange, and true she couldn’t see her whole face, but it was Paula. She had the same bow-shaped mouth, the same small oval face. Her hair might be hidden by the hat, but wisps of blond showed at her neck, and her tan skin stood out in contrast to her white cotton dress.
The woman was relaxed and calm beside the older man, even if she wasn’t answering any questions for herself. Nothing was adding up.
She forced a smile on her face and a bright note in her tone when she said, “I’m incredibly sorry for the confusion. Your wife looks so much like a friend of mine. I thought for sure it was her.”
The man chuckled and waved away her apology. “No worries, my dear. She gets that a lot. Has one of those faces.”
“I guess so. Excuse me.” She gave him one more smile, her eyes landing briefly on the woman next to him, before turning back toward her seat.
She tried to put the weird encounter out of her mind and relax for the rest of the flight, but the absurdity of it kept circlingaround. Not to mention the straw hat stayed in her line of vision every time she glanced toward the front of the plane. Something just wasn’t sitting right. That woman was Paula Williams. So why was she pretending she wasn’t? And who was the man pretending to be her husband? He had to be close to three times her age. Unless Paula had pulled one over on her yesterday, Paula was happily married to a very handsome man who hadn’t been much older than her.
Mickey shook her head, instantly dismissing that train of thought. If Paula had lied to her about her marriage to Jose, she could have been lying about her relationship with Pete. That was a string she didn’t want to pull.
Grabbing her phone from the pocket in the seat in front of her, she made sure it was connected to the in-flight wifi and opened her messenger app. Graham needed to know what had happened, and he needed to know as quickly as possible. He had said he’d be landing in Chicago close behind her, but if there was a chance he could reach out to Paula or Jose before she could, then she had to give him the information as soon as possible. She pulled up her text messages and quickly sent him a message.
Paula is on my flight with a man I’ve never seen before. She wouldn’t answer me when I asked her questions, and the man insisted I was mistaken and she was his wife. I know it’s her. Something’s not right.
She slid the phone back into the pocket in front of her and leaned against her seat. She would keep her eyes on Paula for the rest of the flight, just in case the woman tried to gain her attention. Graham had told her it was important for her to stay diligent, attuned to her gut telling her something was wrong. This was one of those times.
The rest of the flight dragged on, and Mickey’s nerves crawled under her skin like annoying gnats by the time they finally touched down in Chicago. The sun dipped below thehorizon and the pink and purple swirls of twilight danced across the sky. Pain pounded a steady rhythm through her wounds and her sore body yearned for a soft bed to lie on and Graham’s firm arms wrapped around her.
Nodding a polite acknowledgment to the crew as she stepped off the plane, she kept her gaze locked on the straw hat that bobbed along in front of her. Crowds of people weaved between her and Paula once she stepped into the terminal. She quickened her pace and every muscle in her body screamed at her to slow down. Her carry-on bounced along behind her and she slipped in between harried travelers to keep the space between them close.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she grabbed it, casting a quick glance at the screen to see who it was.
Graham.
She connected the call and pressed the phone to her ear while still keeping laser focus on the back of Paula’s head.
“Hey. Did you land?” she asked, her words breathy as she tried to keep her lungs filled with air.
“Yeah. Where are you?” Voices clashed in the background. He must still be on the plane.
“I’m walking toward the exit. It looks like Paula and whoever the hell she’s with didn’t check any bags. What do you think’s going on?”
“Nothing good. Pete slit his wrists when I was questioning him, after telling me someone has Paula. I don’t think I’m going to like it when I find out who he’s been working with.”
Mickey’s feet stopped working and she stood in the middle of the busy corridor, shock rooting her to the spot. Bile filled her stomach. People moved past her in a haze. “Oh my God. What happens now? How do we find Becca?” A weight sat on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She closed her eyes and pushedher teeth together to keep from crying. They’d been so damn close to finding Becca.
