breath and for the hundredth time prayed today would end the way it had
been planned to. He did not observe a man glance casually in his
direction and then turn away. Earlier, the same man had passed by him
before Jason had made the change in the rest room, close enough in fact
to read the identification tag on his travel bag.
It was one small but significant oversight on Jason’s part, because the
tag set forth his real name and address.
A few minutes later Jason stood in line to board his flight. He pulled
out the white envelope he had been given by the man in the rest room and
took out the plane ticket that was in it. He wondered what Seattle
would be like. He glanced across the aisle in time to see his “twin”
get on the flight to Los Angeles. Then Jason caught a glimpse of
another passenger in line for the flight to Los Angeles.
Tall and lean, the man had a bald pate that topped a square face
partially covered by a massive beaM. The expressive features looked
familiar, but Jason couldn’t quite place their owner, as the man
disappeared through the doorway on his way to the waiting plane.
Jason shrugged, dutifully handed over his boarding pass and walked down
the jetwalk.
Barely half an hour later, as the jet Arthur Lieberman was on slammed
into the ground and coils of black smoke soared toward white clouds,
hundreds of miles to the north Jason Archer sipped a fresh cup of coffee
and opened his laptop computer. Smiling, he looked out the plane’s
window as it rocketed on to Chicago. The first leg of his trip had gone
off without a hitch, and the captain had just announced smooth sailing
for the duration of the flight.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sidney Archer tapped the horn impatiently and the car in front of her
sped through the green light. With a reflex motion she checked the
backseat in her Ford Explorer’s rearview mirror. Amy, her Win-hie the
Pooh bear clutched tightly in one tiny hand, was fast asleep in her baby
seat. Amy shared her mother’s thick blond hair, strong chin and slender
nose. Her dancing blue eyes and much of her athletic grace came from
her father, although Sidney Archer had in college been a wick-thin power
forward on the women’s basketball team.
She turned into the blacktop parking lot and pulled into a parking space
in front of the low brick building. She got out, opened the rear door
of the Ford and gently disengaged her daughter from the confines of the
baby seat, taking care to bring Pooh and Amy’s day bag. Sidney pulled
up the hood of Amy’s jacket and shielded her daughter’s face from the
biting wind with her overcoat. A sign over the double glass doors said
JEFFERSON COUNTY DAY-CARE CENTER.
Inside, Sidney removed Amy’s coat, taking a moment to wipe off the
remains of the earlier cereal incident, and checked the provisions in
her carry bag before handing it over to Karen, one of the day-care
people. The front of Karen’s white jumpsuit was already smeared with
red crayon, and a large spot of what looked to be grape jelly was
visible on her right sleeve.
“Hi, Amy. We’ve got some new toys you probably want to check out.”
Karen knelt down in front of her. Amy still gripped her bear, her right
thumb firmly in her little mouth.
Sidney held up Amy’s bag. “Beans and franks, and some juice and a
banana. She’s already had breakfast. Potato chips, and a brownie if
she’s really good. Let her sleep a little longer at nap time, Karen,
she had a rough night.”
Karen put out a finger for Amy to take. “Okay, Mrs. Archer.
Amy’s always good, aren’t you?”
Sidney knelt down and pressed a small kiss on her daughter’s cheek.
“You’ve got that right. Except when she doesn’t want to eat, sleep or
do what she’s told.”
Karen was the mother of a little boy the same age as Amy. The two moms
shared a knowing smile.
“I’ll be here by seven-thirty tonight, Karen.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Bye-bye, Mommy. I love chu.”