Magnolia Gods (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 2) by Thomas Hollyday Page A

husband’s innocence, I was never certain.”
    The drive back to Wilmington was long and tiring. As Mike drove, he tried to stop thinking about the Lawson mystery. For a few miles, he wondered again if his P47 project would be completed in time to save the Museum. So much financial planning depended, he knew, on drawing more visitors through the front doors. His mind, however, kept coming back to the missing seaplane. Through the windshield, Mike kept seeing lights of aircraft in the evening sky, specks that disappeared just like the lights the fisherman had described on that Fourth of July so long ago.

Chapter Five
     
     
    8 PM June 30
    Wilmington, Delaware.
     
     Mike drove directly to Jeremy’s condominium, a small townhouse in one of the new suburban developments outside Wilmington proper. Parked next to Jeremy’s Volkswagen was a surprise, Robin’s pink Ford pickup. In the back her parachute gear was piled on top of her luggage and bedroll.
    Robin answered the door.
    “Where’d you come from?” Mike said, reaching for her to give her a hug. Robin, still with her deep tan, had her long hair tied back and was barefoot, dressed in faded jeans and a white tee shirt with a blue parachute drawn on its front.
    “She called after you left,” said Jeremy from his chair across the room. “I told her the Museum was in trouble and she said she wanted to come and help.” He added, “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
    “No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. Damn, it’s good to see you, Robbie,” as he let her loose from his hug and looked at her.
    She closed her eyes momentarily as he called her that name. Then, she said, “It’s good to see you guys too.”
     “We got to talk, Mike. We got trouble,” said Jeremy.
    “I know. We lost the next payment of our money from Aviatrice,” said Mike.
    Jeremy looked stunned. “Shit. That’s bad enough.”
    “I’ll work for free,” Robin said. “As long as it takes.”
    Mike sat down on the only other seat in the small room, the edge of Jeremy’s bed, his hand still holding Robin’s waist. “OK, so tell me your bad news,” he said.
    “It’s Jenni,” said Jeremy.
    Mike’s face showed he did not know who she was.
    “The friend I called for us up at Aviatrice,” said Jeremy. Mike remembered and could tell by Jeremy’s tone that he was very worried.
    “I met Veal and the corporate bouncer, a guy named Bullock,” said Mike. “Tim acted differently than I have ever seen him.”
    “Yeah,” said Jeremy. “I should never have asked Jenni to check their files.”
    “I’ll get you a drink,” said Robin as she went towards the kitchen. Mike nodded and leaned toward Jeremy.
    “What happened?”
     “Like you suggested, I asked her to check out the Lawson case. I told her to call as soon as she could. She said she could easily look up the file. Anyway she called back this afternoon. I could sense she was afraid, her voice breaking.”
    He walked back and forth as he talked, from time to time looking at Mike.
    “I’m afraid for her, Mike.”
    “Maybe you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s all right,” Mike tried to calm him.
    “She told me how tough the security was there, so much so that Aviatrice has this room called “the traitor room,” set up just for security training. She had been through it a long time ago and had almost forgotten how scary it was. Your guy Bullard handles the training. The room’s supposed to make employees loyal, she said. They deal with classified material, like totally secret stuff, designs, that kind of thing. Aviatrice management wants to make sure that employees don’t leak information to the enemies of the United States, or more likely, to competitors. Bullard is absolutely fanatical about the security of that company.
    “She said he brings new employees into this room. All around them in the dim light are mementos of World War Two. Recruitment posters urging men to sign up for military duty. Photographs of company