Flight 404 Chapter 30

Chapter 30

An hour later, I was finally able to pull it together enough to get myself out of that corner.  I had to call David.

Crawling on my hands and knees I made my way back into Sam’s office.   I was so exhausted from the emotional outpouring, standing up to reach the phone seemed like an insurmountable task.  I lay on the floor looking up at the desk listening to the sound of my chest going up and down, trying to figure out how to get myself up off the floor.

Grabbing the corner of the desk and pulling with all my strength, I managed to hoist myself up.   

It was three in the morning, or at least I think was.  My vision was so blurry from crying, I was having trouble reading the numbers on the clock and finding David’s phone number in the Rolodex.

I know I must have sounded totally insane over the phone but at that point, I didn’t care!  Sobbing uncontrollably I cried into the receiver, “David, I think someone killed Sam.”   I could tell from David’s voice that I had woken him from a deep sleep.  “Margaret?”

“Yes!” “Did you hear me David? I said someone killed Sam!”

“Margaret, what do you mean someone killed Sam?”

“David, I mean someone made Sam’s plane crash!”

“OK Margaret, calm down.  I agree with you that there’s something not quite right with the crash, but I don’t think someone deliberately brought down an entire plane just to kill Sam.”

“David, I know it sounds utterly insane, but I have proof.”

I heard a rustle of sheets and then her voice in the background.

“What’s going on?”  “Aubergine, it’s Margaret.  She’s upset.”

“Oh.”  

Then I heard her mutter something in French that I didn’t get and more rustling of sheets. “Aubergine!” David’s voice was firm, like a man in control.

“David, I interrupted you. I’m sorry!” 

“No, you didn’t.”

More French was being spat out in the background.  It was a string of words that I instinctively knew weren’t good.  This time however, I recognized the voice. It was Aubergine Brodreaux, the owner of La Petit Monchou.  I’d met her a few times at charity events around town.  French Creole fromNew Orleans– that explained the French.  Nice woman, but a bit too sophisticated for David, I thought.  She was a definite departure from WASPY Kate.

I was desperate.  Therefore, I suppressed my urge to interfere.  Now was not the time to lecture him on his choice of female companionship primarily because I needed his confirmation of what I’d found.

“David, I found something awful on Sam’s computer.  It was an e-mail that seemed to imply that its sender was responsible for killing a friend of Sam’s named, Curtis Brooks in thatIowacrash from a year or so back.  You remember David.”

“TheIowacrash?”

I could tell by the way he asked the question, that David already knew something about that crash.

“Don’t say anything more over the phone.  I’ll be right there.”

Twenty minutes later I heard David’s car pull into the driveway.  By then I had showered, changed, and was looking somewhat better than when I’d called.  Before, my hair was smushed up against one side of my head, both my eyes and nose were red and running, and I had a big vomit stain down the front of my top.  I wasn’t going to let David see me like that.

I had the door open before he could get out of the car.  I watched as he strode up the driveway towards the door.  If he weren’t Sam’s friend and employee, I’d give Aubergine a run for her money.

David could always make me aware that I was a woman and damn glad to be one.  His shoulders were wide and square and his legs I imagined were well toned and muscled. 

He was at the door in three strides of those long powerful legs.  His strong arms wrapped around me and his baritone voice was in my ear. 

“Margaret, are you all right?”

Reluctantly, I removed myself from his arms and shook my head yes.  I took his hand and literally dragged him down the hall to Sam’s office. 

“David, you gotta see this!”

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