Angel Fire by Greeley Andrew M

Author:Greeley, Andrew M. [Greeley, Andrew M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Paranormal, Mystery, Fiction, Romantic Suspense Novels, Romance, Science Fiction, Mind & Spirit, Angels & Spirit Guides, Body, Religion, General, Fantasy, Guardian Angels
ISBN: 9780812583410
Amazon: 0812583418
Goodreads: 872043
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 1988-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

“It is and I’m sorry. Don’t worry about them. They’re useful only for the bathroom.”

“For me, not for you.”

Much laughter. “Got you baffled, don’t I?”

The lecture invitations were turned down. You don’t like to fly, you have work to do, and Fee and Dee will need help with their homework when you come back.

People was politely refused. It will give Moaning Mona another chance, and they are merchants of envy anyway.

Ditto for USA Today. The McDonald’s of journalism, and that’s probably not fair to Big Mac. And innocent of ethical restraint.

Good sports page.

Fine. When you’re elected to the NFL Hall of Fame you can give them an interview.

Yes, Mother.

So it went.

If I am supposed to search out a wife who is like her after this game is over—and I gather that’s the game plan—there’s going to have be a lot of fucking to protect my male ego.

Well, nothing wrong with that.

I hope.

So finally they arrived at the check-in counter. The bored woman clerk demanded their passports.

“Doctor Desmond and Doctor light?” She glanced from one to the other.

“That’s right.”

Gaby, he noticed, was wearing her ring again. It would suggest to those who saw it either that she had other commitments or that she and Sean were seriously involved.

Well, she knows best.

“Upgraded to first class?” She typed their names into the computer terminal.

“That’s right.”

He let Gaby deal with the ticket agent, because she would do so anyway.

“Yes, I see.” The woman searched the screen uneasily. “Any luggage?”

“Carry-on.” Gaby gestured to the four small bags.

“Believe in traveling light, I see.”

“Goes with the name.”

The woman nodded, either ignoring the pun or not catching it. “One moment please.”

She walked away from the desk and through a door behind her.

“What’s that about?” Sean answered.

“Trouble,” Gaby said glumly.

The ticket agent returned with two tall, lean men in business suits, one brown, the other dark blue: look-alikes with closely cropped dark hair and receding hairlines.

“Spooks,” Sean whispered.

“Your spooks,” Gaby nodded agreement. “Ollie North types.”

“Doctor Desmond?” Brown Suit pretended not to be sure which was which, even though their pictures were on the passports.

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid we have a little problem with passport formalities. Might we have a word in private?”

“What’s wrong?” Sean demanded uneasily.

“Nothing serious I assure you, sir.” Blue Suit smiled agreeably. “Nothing that should interfere with you catching your plane if you will bear with us for a few moments. Just follow me please.”

“Certainly,” Gaby replied for both of them.

“It won’t be necessary for you to accompany us, Doctor Light,” Brown Suit said, “your passport is in perfect order.”

“I’ll come anyway.”

“I said”—Blue Suit being tough—“that it won’t be necessary.”

He was favored with a Gaby “look” and, despite considerable pained resistance, managed to say, “Very well.”

They were conducted into a small windowless room behind the ticket counter. A gray metal table stood in the middle of the room, two chairs on one side of it, one chair on the other. A telephone and two briefcases rested on the table.

Both men sat behind the table.

“I’m agent Spence,” said Blue Suit.

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