The Underground Lady by JC Simmons Read Free Book Online

crooked, gapped, and yellowed from years of cigarette smoke. They reminded me of the gravestones in a forgotten cemetery. She looked like she ate what she served, her body rounding out in middle age. She had a pouchy face with red eyes and hair like an abandoned floor mop. She was friendly, helpful, and we had the lunch special that she recommended. It turned out that the food was still as good as I remembered.
    "I noticed some tension in Annie Sanders. You think it had something to do with my mother and her husband?"
    "You got that, too, did you? Very astute."
    "I have my moments."
    "You are more than you wish to appear to be."
    Sunny Pfeiffer looked at me, and of the six universally recognized facial expressions – fear, anger, surprise, disgust, sadness, and happiness – I saw five.
    "My mother and Earl Sanders?"
    "I've known Earl for a long time. He's not the type to fool around on his wife."
    She looked at me again, and I could see the thought process going on behind those green gemstone eyes like the workings of a fine Swiss clock.
    "Annie said there was a man in your mother's life. Do you have any recollection of who it might be?"
    "No, no one comes to mind, but then I was only six years old."
    "She said we should find out all that we could about him."
    "She didn't say why or who?"
    "I gathered it was not her husband, but she was serious enough that it makes me think it could somehow be related to your mother's disappearance."
    "How do we find out about this person who was supposedly involved with my mother that you are so sure wasn't Earl Sanders?"
    "No clue. It could be romantic or business related. At any rate, it's time to go see the aircraft controller who was the last person to talk with your mother."
    I didn't want to tell her that after today, she wouldn't be involved with the rest of this investigation.
     
    ***
     
     
    It was a neat house set in a quiet neighborhood. We rang the bell, and the door was opened instantly by a woman who was the mirror image of Barbara Bush, even down to the silver gray hair and three strand pearl necklace.
    "You must be Jay Leicester. John is expecting you. Please come in."
    She escorted us into a sunroom where a silver tray was set with tea and cookies. John Roberts sat in his wheelchair with a green and black blanket over his lap and a copy of Death in the Afternoon by Hemingway. He had a barrel-shaped body with tiny, close-set eyes. His long, sharp nose resembled an eagle's beak – with all apologies to the eagle. He had always been a big man, though not as big as me. His warm, friendly smile assured me that all was well with him.
    "It's good to see you, John."
    "You, too." His grip was firm and sincere. He looked directly at Sunny. "My God, you brought Hadley Welch with you."
    "John Roberts, meet Sunny Pfeiffer, Hadley Welch's daughter."
    They shook hands.
    "You are the spitting image of your mother."
    I thought the same about his wife and Barbara Bush, who had served the tea and left us alone.
    "Let's talk about the morning her mother disappeared. Were you working alone that day?"
    "I was working approach control alone, the tower boys were upstairs. Her voice was as familiar as yours, and her call sign, I knew well. She trained here with Earl in the PA-18. There was no panic in her voice. She seemed to have forgotten something and wanted to return and land. She just wouldn't answer after that final transmission. I instinctively knew something was amiss. There were so many possibilities, radio failure, an engine running rough, leaving her no time for chitchat, some control problem that kept her busy. But for her to simply vanish, I have no explanation."
    "How soon did you sound the alarm?"
    "Immediately, that's standard procedure. Better safe than sorry."
    "You think there's a transcript still around?"
    "Should be, they are not supposed to ever destroy them. Check with the tower chief, man named Paul Bradford. He should be able to help."
    "Okay, John. We won't keep you any