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Her words and the contact of our hands send a warm sensation through my body. Instead of avoiding it like I have been, I allow myself to lean into this feeling, embrace it. Developing feelings for my client is completely against protocol, but I’m unsure I can stop it or if I even want to.
The flight attendant speaks through the loudspeaker, announcing we’ll land soon instructions to prepare. Taking my hand from Nora’s, I pack my computer away in its bag, set the tray in the correct position, and ready myself. We’ve almost made it.
Nora’s hands rest on her lap, and her eyes are fixed out the window as we descend in Washington. I can’t tell by her body language what she’s feeling or thinking. She jerks slightly when the airplane wheels make contact with the runway. After a couple more bumps, we glide smoothly down the runway.
“We made it.” She lets go a sigh of relief.
“Yes, we did. It wasn’t so bad now, was it?” I quip.
“I’ll let you know once I see if my luggage made the trip safely as well.” She pokes her finger into my bicep.
The plane comes to a halt, and passengers unbuckle and bustle about to collect their things. I don’t want to end up behind everyone at baggage claim, so I stand and open the overhead compartment, retrieving Nora’s carryon and mine.
As soon as the door opens and the flight attendant starts to allow passengers off, I step sideways into the aisle and let Nora step in front of me. Sometimes my size has its advantages. I may not be able to hide myself easily, but I can quickly turn into a brick wall.
We make decent strides ahead of the crowd toward baggage claim when I realize Nora has dropped a few paces behind me. I turn to see her stop by the ladies’ restroom then meet her by the door.
I notice a sign that says ‘family restroom’ just ahead of us. I point to the sign; Nora realizes what I’m suggesting. The family restroom is much smaller, and I can clear it for her safety before she goes inside.
“Any restroom works,” she says with a grin as she closes the small distance between us.
When we reach the restroom door, I open it and poke my head inside making sure there’s no one else inside. All clear. I hold the door open wider for Nora to go inside. She’s in an out quickly, unfortunately, that minor delay put us behind the rest of the flight for baggage claim. As we walk to the front of the airport, I take in the surrounding people. Everyone looks just as eager to be out of the airport as we are.
As we approach the conveyor belt, there are several people getting their luggage and clearing out of the way. Everyone is headed out the front door where there’s a line of cabs waiting.
I notice a slender man take a rather large duffle bag from the belt. Just as our eyes meet, he turns, snatching the bag off the belt before heading toward the door. I see a black athletic drawstring bag hit the floor as he walks away quickly, sliding between people to make his way to the exit.
I hurry over and pick up the bag. “Hey!” I call through the airport as I follow the guy. I grab Nora’s hand with my other hand, urging her to come with me.
He doesn’t turn back but clearly picks up his pace, knocking a man off balance by bumping into him as he exits the airport through the front doors.
Gripping the bag in my hand, I rush to catch up, but I don’t want to knock someone over in the process just to get his bag back to him. Just as I make it through the doors, I look left and right, scanning the sidewalk for the guy. I don’t see him anywhere.
I hear a muffled, “Go, go, go!”
I turn to my right and see the man who dropped the bag in the back of a cab. His head is down and slightly turned away from me. I hear that voice as it yells again, and I spot corresponding body movements with it. He was the one who yelled at the cabbie to drive away.
I hurry over, and just as I reach the car, the tires screech as the cab lurches away from the curb. I’m left on the sidewalk holding the bag in my hand.
“What the hell was that about?” Nora asks, looking down at the bag in my hand.
I look down at it too, trying to decide what to do now. I can take it to the lost and found, but if anything of value is inside, it may not make it back to the owner. If there’s an ID in there, I can just mail the bag and its contents to the address listed. He may have not noticed he dropped it.
Although, his desire to get away from me is strange. Then again, if he didn’t realize he dropped it and a man my size yelled at him and chased him through the airport, I suppose I can see why he bolted.
Deciding to have a look for myself, I pull against the bunched fabric to open the bag. Reaching inside, my heart sinks when I pull out the only item in the bag. A deep black wide-brimmed hat, with a braided brown and black hat band.
My eyes widen, a chill racing through me as I turn the hat in my hand. There’s a silver plate attaching the ends of the band together. The plate is engraved with, DM & NR Forever.
“What? What’s in the bag, SJ?” Nora’s voice raises.
“He was here,” I breathe, my voice barely audible even to me. He was right there. I looked directly into his eyes. I turn to look into my worried charge’s eyes. “He was here, Nora.”
I pull the hat completely free of the bag and hold it up. Her hand immediately covers her mouth in surprise. Her eyes lock on the silver plate, and I can see the moment when she realizes what the engraving means.
Her eyes widen, but all she says is a hushed, terrified, “SJ…”
Chapter 17
