Dearly Departed Carly Winter (ebook reader for pc TXT) 📖

“No, I’m not kidding you, but you need to play it cool. He’s in 4C. Go say hello and get your autograph.” I took her tray. “I’ll deliver these, but hurry back.”

Thankfully, Donna had a napkin under each drink with its assigned seat written on it. While handing out the glasses, I kept my eye on her. She smiled and chatted quietly while Mr. Crane signed the piece of paper she’d handed him. When she returned to her station, she beamed with happiness.

“You can kill me now,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve met Bob Crane. He’s just so nifty. Thanks, Patty.”

I grinned and squeezed her arm. “You’re welcome.”

“This trip couldn’t get any better. I mean, we’re on our way to New York with Bob Crane on the plane! Oh, my word. What’s next? We meet the Beatles?”

The flight went on smoothly. No one got overtly drunk, the kids played quietly after getting to see the cockpit and meet the captains, and the stews performed like a well-oiled machine. Not even a moment of turbulence disturbed us. It was one of the easiest flights I’d had since getting my wings, despite the length. Even my ankle behaved and didn’t cause me too much trouble.

When we landed, we said our goodbyes to the passengers, then retrieved our own things. We headed inside the airport, where I caught a glimpse of a pretty blonde stew wearing our airline uniform carrying a sign with my name on it.

“Look at that!” Donna said, pointing at the woman. “Patty, what’s going on?”

“I… I don’t know,” I said, now concerned something had happened to my family. They didn’t like my job and our relationship had become terribly strained, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care or love them. If one of them had become sick… or worse, I’d be devastated.

I weaved my way through the crowd.

“I’m Patricia Byrne,” I said once I stood before the woman. “What’s happened?”

“You’ve received an urgent call,” she said, handing me a piece of paper. “From the FBI.”

I opened the folded note and read Bill’s name and number.

“He said it’s imperative that you phone him as soon as you get to your hotel,” the stew continued. “He wants you to call collect. It’s urgent.”

Donna stared at me as my good mood slowly deflated.

“I hope you aren’t in trouble,” the stew said, her New Jersey accent thicker than sludge. “The flu’s going around and our airline can’t afford to have too many other stews out.”

“Don’t worry,” Donna said. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. We’ll be here tomorrow to catch our flight.”

She smiled. “Excellent. Have a fun time in New York!”

Had something happened with Charles’ murder? That had to be it. Why else would Special Agent Bill Hart track me down in New York?

Chapter 18

When we arrived at the hotel, we quickly checked in and I headed to my room, relieved the airline had given us each our own space. I wanted privacy while I spoke to Bill.

I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my uniform and girdle, leaving them in a pile on the carpet. Taking a moment, I stood with my eyes closed, appreciating the freedom as the cool air caressed my skin before sitting down on the bed in my bra and underwear. I suddenly had a good case of the nerves and the urge to reach for a cigarette, but I didn’t have any. Instead, I grabbed the pen next to the phone and held it in my hand as I would if I were smoking. Then, I dialed to request an outside operator.

“I’d like to place a collect call, please.”

“Of course,” the friendly woman said. “Do you have the number, or shall I look it up for you?”

“Yes, I have it.” I read off the digits Bill had given me. It rang three times before he answered and I realized he’d given me his direct line.

“Bill Hart,” he growled. Someone was having an off day.

“This is the operator, sir. I have a collect call from Patricia Byrne. Do you accept the charges?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice suddenly far perkier. “Thank you.”

When the operator clicked off, Bill and I both started talking at the same time. We laughed and he said, “You go first.”

“What’s going on, Bill? Why did you call the airline and have me tracked down?”

“Honestly?”

“Of course!” I replied with a huff. “I didn’t rush to the hotel to call you to listen to lies!”

“I wanted to hear your voice, Patty.”

A slow blush crept up my neck to my cheeks. I flopped back on the mattress with a sigh as relief swept through me.

“I’ve been trying to call your apartment all day, but there wasn’t an answer. So, I phoned the airline and confirmed you were working. As soon as they learned I was with the FBI, they quickly agreed to look up your flight and get a note to you.”

“That’s really sweet, but I wish you wouldn’t have told them it was urgent. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he replied, chuckling. “Like I said, I wanted to hear your voice, not wait around until you had a chance to phone. My call, me tracking you down, the message… it was all purely selfish. I figured with you being in New York, you’d choose dinner in Time Square over a chat with me.”

“Well, don’t do that again,” I scolded, shaking my head. “Unless it truly is urgent, of course.”

“My apologies, ma’am.”

I wasn’t pleased with Bill’s actions, but I did appreciate him wanting to speak with me. My relationship with him both excited and confused me. Sure, I had offered to help him in the investigation of Charles’ death, but then sometimes he was so gruff with me, I felt he was taking advantage. But then he’d used his power to track me down through the airline and have me phone him. Not exactly the actions of someone using another. “How’s your serial killer case going?’ I asked.

“Not good,” he said, sighing. “It’s