SHAKE DOWN by Kendel Lynn

Author:Kendel Lynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Henery Press;amateur sleuths;cozy mystery;women sleuths;PI novels;cozy mystery series;culinary cozy;beach reads;private investigators;humorous mysteries
Publisher: Henery Press
Published: 2020-01-04T20:29:07+00:00

ELEVEN

(Day #6: Thursday Late Afternoon)

The four-man tactical squad led Sid and me into the airport via the Gate 2 entry door. Waiting passengers watched as we walked in formation straight through the exit and past the security checkpoint. People stared, holding their belongings close and their loved ones closer, as the armed men directed us to the hallway I’d discovered a few days earlier. We passed the vending machines and restrooms and Sergeant Whistler’s office, finally arriving at the door marked Homeland Security.

Once inside, they relieved us of our handbags. Politely, officially, and definitely not friendly. Sid was directed into one room and me another, each door unmarked.

“Ask for an attorney first thing,” I said to Sid before her door swung shut.

“No shit,” came her fading reply.

My room was windowless and cramped. A single battered metal table sat center with two padded office chairs on one side, a metal folding chair on the other. The officer indicated the metal chair with the briefest of gestures and left.

Minutes past. First five, then ten. The door swung open and one of the sunglasses from the runway entered. “Good afternoon, Ms. Lisbon, I’m Agent Hunter. Thank you for waiting.”

“Good afternoon,” I said.

“I have a few questions. Simply answer honestly, and we’ll get you on your way.”

“Of course. Whatever I can do to help.”

“What took you to Charlotte today?”

“Business,” I said.

“And your business is?” He kept his pen poised over a short notebook.

“I’m Director of the Ballantyne Foundation,” I said. “Here on Sea Pine Island.”

“And what,” he said, looking at his notes, “Ballantyne Foundation business took you to Charlotte this morning?”

“I’m guessing you’re asking about Alex Sanders,” I said.

“What makes you guess that?”

“I saw your men pull him out of line, right before they pulled me.”

“How well do you know Mr. Sanders?”

“Not well at all,” I said.

“But well enough to accompany him to Charlotte,” he said. “Can you explain? Is he part of the Ballantyne Foundation?”

“You misunderstand, Agent Hunter,” I said. “While we happened to be on the same returning flight, I actually don’t know when he arrived in Charlotte.” A stretch, but since I wasn’t at his arriving gate, I really didn’t know exactly.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Let’s skip the arrival segment of your trip and pick it up in Charlotte. You met him at Freedom Park. What was the purpose of this meetup?”

It was one thing for Agent Hunter to surmise Alex and I had been on the same outbound flight to Charlotte as we returned together, but how did he know about Freedom Park? I’d wondered why they’d chosen Sid and me from the deplaning passengers. Clearly, it wasn’t because of a random security check. This line of questioning indicated something much larger.

“Ms. Lisbon?”

“Is this about Daphne Fischer?” I paused a breath. “Did you find her?”

“I’m asking about Alex Sanders.”

“Is he under arrest? You must have found something.”

“What was the nature of your meeting with him at Freedom Park? Him and the other man?”

“Wait, am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Under arrest,” I said.

“If you’ll answer my questions, we’ll be able to move this along.

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