A String of Beads (Jane Whitefield, #8)(89)

Chelsea studied Jane’s face for a few seconds, then sighed. “I’ve already trusted you enough to go this far. And you saw those men at my house. I can’t stay here. There’s nowhere that’s safe. And I notice that you’re the one in the position to help other people. Not the one who’s been sleeping with a thief and then a rapist. So I guess I ought to listen to you.”

“All right,” said Jane. “Then let’s get to the airport.”

They arrived at the Buffalo airport as the sky was beginning to show signs that sunrise was not far off. Jane said, “Your flight leaves in an hour and a half. Do you think you’d like a midnight snack?”

“I think I’ll call it breakfast.”

Jane took Chelsea’s small carry-on bag out of the trunk and they walked into the airport terminal. Most of the concessions in the building still had steel cages across their entrances, but there was one restaurant that was open, with several employees rattling pans, brewing coffee, and firing up stoves in the kitchen area.

They bought coffee and fresh muffins because those were the only things that were ready, and sat at a table together. “Don’t forget to mention that Jane sent you. If you don’t know at least that much, Mattie might not be comfortable with you.”

“You mean she’ll think you don’t trust me.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you, but I’m still looking at things here.” Jane detected a change in Chelsea. The girl’s face was pale, her eyes widened. She hunched her shoulders and stared down at the table, then raised one hand to her brow as though she were shielding her eyes from a glare. “What is it? See somebody?”

“It’s two more of the men who worked with Nick.”

Jane lifted her eyes and scanned the trickle of people coming into the broad open area between the entrance and the line of airline ticket counters. The two men were in their late twenties. They didn’t walk to the counters or head for the security checkpoint to reach the gates. Jane said, “Go into the ladies’ room behind us and wait for me.”

Jane went to stand at an electronic board that listed arrivals and departures and then to the row of ticket counters. She bought herself a ticket to Albany, the closest destination that was listed for an early morning takeoff. While she was in line she got a chance to study the two men. They had no luggage, not even a jacket that might hold a ticket. They were in fairly good condition, men who did something physical rather than mental for a living, but not something strenuous enough to give them the sinewy forearms of laborers. She didn’t see anything on either of them that might be a weapon. She decided that Daniel Crane had sent them to keep Chelsea from leaving town, or at least to see it if she did. Jane paid cash for her ticket. She went into the airport store just as the clerks finished opening it and walked to the back to look at the display of scarves. A few minutes later she arrived at the ladies’ room where Chelsea was waiting.

For the moment, this ladies’ room was empty and they were alone. She said, “We should go through security. Once we’re in there, I’m not especially concerned about those two doing you any harm.”

“You can’t go through security without a ticket.”

Jane held up her boarding pass. “I bought a ticket to Albany.” She opened the paper bag from the store and extracted a gray scarf. In answer to Chelsea’s confused expression, she said, “The security area is all out in the open. Let me see what I can do about changing how we look.”

She draped the scarf over Chelsea’s head, and wrapped the longer side once around Chelsea’s neck.

Chelsea turned to the mirror. “One of those things Muslim ladies wear?”

“A hijab. We’ve got to hide all that blond hair. We’re within a few miles of two good-size universities and a lot of little colleges, and people from everywhere visit Niagara Falls. The TSA people have seen these before.”

Jane took a black scarf out of her paper bag and made it into a hijab for herself.

“You too?” said Chelsea. “They don’t know you.”

“Two is better. Stay with me, and keep your face down. Don’t look for those two men, just stare ahead and get through security as quickly as possible.” Jane stepped out of the ladies’ room with the carry-on bag over her shoulder, and Chelsea followed.

The security area took up the first part of the terminal after the ticket counters, but at this hour of the morning the crowds were very thin and the stanchions and straps were arranged to keep the route to the first checkpoint direct. First Jane, then Chelsea showed her boarding pass and driver’s license to the woman at the podium. They moved to the conveyer belt where they put their shoes in plastic bins and set them with the carry-on bag on the belt, and then stepped into the x-ray machine and out the other side.

Jane and Chelsea picked up their shoes and the bag and hurried on around the corner to the first waiting area where they were shielded from the view of people outside the secure area before they put them on. Jane watched the people who walked by. “Don’t take off the scarf just yet. Those two may still figure out that the place to see who’s flying out is here.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me their names.”

“Bill Thompson is the tall one and Wesley Harriman is the other one.”