Chapter 1

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.