Wendy
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2018 by Old Man with a Pen

The aircraft touched down at Stapleton, taxied to General Aviation, stopped at the Terminal and let Wendy, Rachel and Rosalyn off. There was a series of hugs and air kisses and promises to “get together soon,” that might and might not happen. Amy filed for Alliance and moved into the takeoff queue. Roz and Rachel were close enough to home to use the Commuter but Wendy called a taxi.

Taxies don’t wait at General ... they wait where the crowds are. People landing at General Aviation usually had parked their car there. The threesome had left from Alliance.

She settled in to wait. She could have called her father but it was even odds that he was in court.

The insurance company was fighting a settlement over their accident and Pops was seeking Lost Wages for them both.

“Billable hours,” Daddy said.

“Not happening,” said the insurance company attorneys. “The company will go for a straight settlement. Not what you could have made.”

“See you in court,” Daddy said. And they would.

The past few days had been stressful. Was she really married? Wishful thinking? Was she guilty of coercion? Confusion yes. He was just soo hot ... he saved my life. She nodded off.

She woke to catastrophe. A man burst through the front door ... turned and fired twice as the door swung closed. He stopped in front of her.

“I need an airplane ... where’s yours?” he said. He pointed a grey bulky firearm at her.

“I don’t fly,” She was terrified. “I’m waiting for a taxi.”

“You’re no good to me,” and he calmly jerked the trigger. CLICK But there was an explosion ... She passed out.

Some time later, she was seated on one side of a table in an office with a bunch of angry men on the other side and they all wanted to know what her relationship was to the dead man.

“What dead man?”

She caught a glimpse of herself in what had to be a two way mirror. Her stomach convulsed. She immediately projectile vomited. They hadn’t cleaned her up.

The angry men were drenched.

The click was a misfire.

The BANG was the General Aviation clerk blasting a 45 caliber hole through her assassin ... occipital point and straight through.

Wendy was a mess.

She wore drying bits of matter thickly applied with a palette-knife. Now that she had seen it she could feel it and she heaved again.

She sat back in her chair and reached for her purse.

Every woman worthy of the name carries one of those little soft plastic wrapped packets of Kleenex in her purse ... and she knows exactly where it is. She knows where it is because she knows precisely where she put it ... it is ALWAYS in the same place ... because.

Women have their lives far more organized than males.

The packet wasn’t where she put it.

They had searched her purse.

She looked ... the purse was a total jumble ... and it wasn’t HER jumble. She turned it upside down on the desk.

The tissue was on the top of the pile.

When they returned her jumble to the purse ... they must have used a scoop shovel ... there was none of her meticulous placement ... it was a disaster.

Using the two-way mirror to get the big pieces scrapped off and then resorting to her compact mirror to hunt out the little junk, she paid absolutely zero attention to the demands of her examiners.

I’m never going to get my hairbrush clean, she thought ... damn ... it was my favorite.

While not presentable she was good enough.

“Gentlemen. Have I been arrested?”

The blank looks said it all.

“That’s a no. I’ll see you in court.” She said, “You can reach me at the law offices of Austin, Smythe and Austin.”

She found her card case in the mess. Ignoring the brown shoe wearers she presented one to the black shoe.

“My card.”

She pushed the pile into her bag, waved at the mirror and stood in front of the door. Nothing happened until she looked pointedly at the black shoe. He looked at her card, at the mirror, at her, at the mirror and nodded his head.

CLICK

Wendy turned the knob and said, “Where’s the Ladies?”

“Right ... second left ... third door right,” said the black shoe.

He looked like he wanted to say more ... but the door closed.

Half an hour later, a rather wet Wendy emerged from the Ladies. She wasn’t perfect ... but it would do.

Black shoe was waiting.

“I’ll give you a give home.”

“Why am I here?”

“The man was closing down his network ... you had to have been his next.”

“Never saw him in my life.”

“We jumped to conclusions.”

“You did,” she said. “He wanted a plane and pilot. I don’t fly ... I was waiting for a taxi.” She shuddered. “He said, ‘You’re no good to me,’ and pulled the trigger. I heard the click and the gun going off. I thought I was dead.”

“You looked it.”



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