Air Time by Hank Phillippi Ryan Read Free Book Online Page B

be putting us all in danger. If they know where you are, they’d know where she is.”
    “But they’re not going to—”
    “Who are ‘they’?” Josh says. “You have no idea what ‘they’ would or wouldn’t do, because you have no idea who ‘they’ are. And for you to just dismiss a threatening phone call, not even report it to police, seems irresponsible.”
    Josh steps away from the window. I see him eyeing the front door.
    He’s going to bolt? Without even having a real conversation?
    “Honey?” Then I stop. He’s displeased because I’m not doing what he says? I’m not one of his errant students, a kid who disobeyed orders or passed notes in class or whispered or cheated. I’ve been fine on my own for all these years. Which used to worry me. Now I seewhy being on my own might have been much, much easier. But do I want to be on my own anymore?
    “Honey?” I say again. I’m teetering on angry, but trying to soften my voice. “Maybe we should really talk about this. Not fight. I mean, I give my opinion, then you give yours. And we discuss it. But if I give my opinion, and then you say I’m wrong, that’s not a discussion. You know?”
    “It’s not just about calling the police,” Josh says, ignoring my question. “Covering that plane crash was more important to you than coming home. To me. To Penny. She relies on you now. Her mother left us. She chose her job. And now, you—”
    “I wasn’t choosing my job in Baltimore,” I interrupt. My hands are on my hips. I didn’t decide to put them there. “I chose it twenty-five years ago.”
    Botox pads into the room, then stops. She eyes us, her tail waving. She hops onto the couch and begins daintily licking a paw. As if the entire world wasn’t about to fall apart.
    “I see,” Josh says. In three controlled paces, he’s in the dining room. He yanks his leather jacket from the back of a mahogany chair, thumbs it over one shoulder and marches toward the front door.
    “Josh?” I say. My hands drop to my sides. My chest turns to ice and my eyes swim with tears of indecision. What do I do? What do people do? People disagree, don’t they? Sometimes?
    “Let’s talk tomorrow,” he says. In a voice I’ve never heard.
    “Whatever,” I say. In a voice I’ve never heard.
    The front door opens. And closes. And Josh is gone.
    I’ve lost my luggage. That I can handle. But now, what if I’ve lost the love of my life?

Chapter Five
     
     
    M
     
y mother is going to kill me . Maysie will be so sad. They’re both happily married. Maysie about to have kid number three. I’m apparently the only one who is unable to balance my personal life with my professional life. Mom’s twenty years of fears and warnings are now confirmed. I’m raggedy and raw this morning, and my eyes sting whenever I think about Josh and Penny, which is all the time. I can’t even imagine how Josh will explain to her what happened. I can’t really explain it myself. I yank myself back into the real world. I can always count on work. And Franklin. Right . He and Stephen are also in a committed and fulfilling relationship. I’m the only loser.
    A swirl of coffee-swilling subway commuters bustles around us as we stand on the sidewalk in the midst of the Government Center Station crowd. Our destination this morning is the curved stone facade of Two Center Plaza, the Boston office of the FBI. We’ve got ten minutes until the meeting.
    “The purse party’s tomorrow, out in Great Barrington,” Franklin says. “Four in the afternoon, the voicemail message said. Like a tea party, I guess. Only without the tea. And with contraband.” Franklin’s eyeing a little map on his latest phone gizmo. “GB’s about a three-hour drive from here.”
    “They certainly called back quickly,” I say. I’d left our undercover phone number on Regine’s Designer Doubles Web site just yesterday. It’s our private line, not hooked in to the Channel 3 phone system, and it has caller ID