Countdown

On the concourse, she headed for her gate, glancing up over her shoulder at the two-way window. Something niggled—there was something they weren’t telling her. What could it be? What information had gone out that she’d not yet seen?

As she walked, she took the cell out of her bag and punched in the numbers to Scott’s desk. The phone rang at the other end as she reached the deserted gate.

An impatient flight attendant stood irritably at the door to the flight. Kim handed the woman her boarding pass. “Sorry. Got stuck at security.”

“Not your fault.” The woman gave her back the small piece of pass. “Have a good flight.”

Scott’s voice mail picked up. “Shepherd,” Kim said, hurrying down the ramp, “run the files again and see if there are any references to women, then get back to me. I’m getting on the plane right now, so I have to turn off my phone, but leave a message.”