her arms to steady her.
“Ma’am, you don’t look so good. You want I should drive you to a doctor
or something?”
Sidney regained her balance. “I’m fine. Let’s just get to the car.”
He shrugged and she followed him to a gleaming black Lincoln Town Car.
He held the door for her.
She lay back against the seat cushions and took several deep breaths.
Tommy climbed in the driver’s seat and started the engine.
He looked in the rearview mirror. “Look, I don’t mean to beat a dead
horse, but you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded and managed a brief smile. “I’m fine, thank you.” She took
another deep breath, unbuttoned her coat, smoothed out her dress and
crossed her legs. The interior of the car was very warm and after the
cold burst she had just encountered she actually wasn’t feeling all that
well. She looked at the back of the driver’s head.
“Tommy, did you hear anything about an airplane crash today?
While you were at the airport, or on the news?”
Tommy’s eyebrows went up. “Crash? Not me, I ain’t heard nothing like
that. And I been listening to the twenty-four-hour news radio all
morning. Who says a plane crashed? That’s crazy. I got friends at
most of the airlines. They would’ve told me.” He looked at her warily,
as if he were suddenly unsure of her mental state.
Sidney didn’t answer but lay back against the seat. She took the
cellular phone supplied by the car company out of its receptacle and
dialed Tyler, Stone’s New York office. She silently cursed George
Beard. She knew the odds were billions to one that her husband had been
in a plane crash, a purported crash that, so far, only an old, terrified
man seemed to know about. She shook her head and finally smiled. The
whole thing was absurd. Jason was hard at work on his laptop having a
snack and a second cup of coffee or, more likely, settling in to watch
the in-flight movie. Her husband’s pager was probably gathering dust on
his. nightstand. She would give him hell about it when he got back.
Jason would laugh at her when she told him this story. But that was
okay. Right now she very much wanted to hear that laugh.
She spoke into the phone. “It’s Sidney. Tell Paul and Harold that I’m
on my way.” She looked out the window at the smooth-flowing traffic.
“Thirty-five minutes tops.”
She replaced the phone and again stared out the window. The thick
clouds were heavy with moisture and even the stout Lincoln was buffeted
by powerful winds when they took the bridge over the East River on their
way into Manhattan. Tommy again looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“They’re calling for snow today. A lot of it. Me, I say they’re
blowing smoke. I can’t remember the last time the weather guys got
anything right. But if they do, you might have a problem getting out,
ma’am. They shut La Guardia down at the drop of a hat these days.”
Sidney continued to look out the tinted windows, where the army of
familiar skyscrapers making up the world-famous Manhattan skyline filled
the horizon. The solid and imposing buildings reaching to the sky
seemed to holster her spirit. In the foreground of her mind Sidney
could see that white pine Christmas tree holding court in one corner of
the living room, the warmth of a cozy fire radiating outward, the touch
of her husband’s arm around her, his head against her shoulder. And,
best of all, the shiny, enchanted eyes of their two-year-old.
Poor old George Beard. He should retire from those boards. It was
clearly all becoming too much for him. She told herself he wouldn’t
even have gotten close with his preposterous story if her husband hadn’t
been flying today.
She looked toward the front of the Lincoln and allowed herself to relax
a little. “Actually, Tommy, I’m thinking of taking the train back.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
In the main conference room of Tyler, Stone’s New York office in midtown
Manhattan, the video presentation outlining the latest business terms
and legal strategies for the CyberCom deal had just ended. Sidney