Celebration by Fern Michaels Read Free Book Online

canceled?”
    â€œMa’am, as far as I know, Colonel Kelly boarded his flight with ten minutes to spare. I saw him checking his ticket en route to the airport, and he said he had a straight through flight to Dulles. He said he couldn’t wait to get home, and this was going to be the best Christmas ever. Did you check with Dulles, Mrs. Kelly?”
    â€œNo. No, I didn’t, but I will when I hang up. I don’t suppose you know his flight number.”
    â€œThe colonel said he was flying Lufthansa, with one stop somewhere, but I can’t remember where it was, ma‘am. I’m sorry. The colonel’s flight left at 0600 hours December 15. He said he would probably be drinking coffee while he stared at his Christmas tree on December 16, all the while marveling at the fact that he was a civilian again. He wished me luck with my tour, shook my hand, said ‘Merry Christmas, Captain,’ and then he was gone. That’s all I know, ma’am.”
    Kristine felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. “What about his luggage, Captain?”
    â€œLuggage?”
    â€œYes, what happened to it?”
    â€œThe colonel didn’t have any luggage, ma’am, just a small flight bag. I assumed everything else had been shipped.”
    â€œI see.” Damn, she didn’t see at all. “Thank you, Captain. Have a nice holiday.”
    In a near trance, Kristine paced the kitchen. Logan had left Germany on schedule. Where in the name of God was he? Something was wrong? “My God!” she cried, Logan could be buried in a ditch somewhere, and I’ll never know. Oh, God, Oh, God! She was going to do something. What? Make coffee? Tea? A centerpiece for the kitchen table? Even a new wreath for the front door? She was going to do some sewing. The middle of the huge bare table made her flinch. No, no, no, she wasn’t going to do any of those things. She was going to call Dulles Airport.
    Fifteen minutes later, Kristine slammed the phone down in disgust. Civilian passenger information was sacrosanct. Maybe she could call the airline in Germany. She placed the call and switched to German when she spoke. The result was the same. Lufthansa did not divulge passenger information. Now what was she supposed to do? Make coffee, create a new centerpiece for the kitchen table like a good little wife, write another letter she would never get to mail.
    All of the above if she wanted to keep her sanity. Like hell! The phone found its way back to her hand. Her first call was to her friend Sadie in Germany. When she heard her friend’s cheerful voice on the other end of the phone the tenseness between her shoulder blades lessened. The moment she wound down from her spiel, she asked, “Do you know anything, Sadie? Did you and Jim go to Logan’s going-away party?”
    â€œIt was one of those guy only things. Don’t get riled up now. It was held in the Officers’ Club and aside from some risque entertainment, everyone left alone. Logan stayed here that night in the spare bedroom. I think you’re overreacting, Kris. He could have missed his stopover flight.
    â€œJust wait, he’ll waltz in like nothing happened, his arms full of presents. That’s Logan, Mr. Showman himself. Stop worrying. When did you become so neurotic and paranoid?”
    â€œFour days ago, that’s when. I’m going to call the American Consulate and have them check it out. Maybe the airline will give them the information. Four days is a long time, Sadie.”
    â€œI think you’re worrying needlessly. And you’re running up your phone bill at the same time. Kick back, relax, and get the house ready for the holidays. You are Mrs. Christmas herself. You need to go by the book, Kristine. Military wives do not buckle under pressure. We measure up!”
    â€œI’m not in the military anymore, Sadie. My measuring-up days are long gone. I did decorate,” she said, her voice