TOTAL CONTROL By: David Baldacci

Her hand stopped, millimeters from summoning assistance.

“Why not?” she coldly asked.

“Because I’m here to help you find your husband,” he said simply.

She finally managed to answer him, her wariness evident. “My husband is

dead.”

“I’m not the FBI, and I’m not trying to entrap you. However, I can’t

prove a negative, so I won’t even try. What I will do is give you a

telephone number where you can reach me day or night.” He handed her a

small white card with a Virginia telephone number on it. Otherwise it

was blank.

Sidney looked at the card. “Why should I call you? I don’t even know

who you are or what you’re doing. Only that you’ve been following me.

That does not win you confidence points in my book,” she said angrily as

her fear receded. He couldn’t be a threat to her on a crowded plane.

The man shrugged. “I don’t have a good answer to that. But I know your

husband isn’t dead and you know it too.” He paused; Sidney Archer stared

at him, unable to say anything. “Although you have no reason to believe

me, I’m here to help you, and Jason, if it’s not too late.”

‘What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

The man sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. When he reopened

them, the pain evident there made her suspicions start to fade.

“Ms. Archer, I’m not exactly sure what your husband is involved in. But

I do know enough to realize that, wherever he is, he could very well be

in grave danger.” He closed his eyes again while Sidney’s heart sank to

a depth she hadn’t realized existed within her.

He looked over at her. “The FBI have you under round-the-clock

surveillance.” His next words chilled her to the bone. “You should be

very thankful for that, Ms. Archer.”

When she finally spoke, the words were barely audible to the man, who

bent toward her so he could hear them. “Do you know where Jason is?”

The man shook his head. “If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting on this plane

with you.” He looked at her hopeless expression. “All I can tell you,

Ms. Archer, is I’m not sure of anything.-” He let out a breath and

passed a hand over his forehead. For the first time Sidney noticed that

his hand was shaking.

“I was at Dulles Airport the same morning your husband was.”

Sidney’s eyes grew wide, her hand gripping the armrest. “You were

following my husband? Why?”

The man looked over at her. “I didn’t say I was following your

husband.” He sipped his drink to moisten a throat suddenly gone dry. “He

was sitting in the departure area for the flight to L.A. He looked

nervous and agitated. That’s what drew my attention to him in the first

place. He got up and went into the men’s room. Another man went in

after him a few minutes later.”

“Why is that unusual?”

“The second man had a white envelope in his hand when he came into the

departure area. That envelope was clearly visible, almost like a

lantern the way the guy was swinging it. I believe it was a signal to

your husband. I’ve seen that technique used before.”

“A signal. For what?” Sidney’s breathing had accelerated to such an

extent that she had to make a conscious effort to slow it down.

“For your husband to act. Which he did. He went into the men’s room.

The other man came out a little later. I forgot to mention that he was

dressed almost identically to your husband and was carrying the same

sort of baggage. Your husband never did come out.”

“What do you mean my husband never came out? He had to.”

“I meant he never came out as Jason Archer.”

Sidney looked totally confused.

He hurriedly went on. “The first thing I noticed about your husband was

his shoes. He was dressed in a suit, but he had on black tennis shoes.

Do you remember him putting on tennis shoes that morning?”

“I was asleep when he left.”

“Well, when he came out of the rest room his appearance had completely

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