THE PLAN

EXCERPT

      “Mrs. Elliot?”

      Jackie nodded and the man on her front porch withdrew a wallet from inside the jacket of  his navy suit.  He opened it, held it up for her to look.  Beneath the gold-colored shield and his picture ID was his name, David Webster, and his status as a special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

      Here we go, Jackie thought.  “What can I do for you, Agent Webster?”

      The early afternoon sun beat down on the uncovered porch. Webster replaced his ID in his pocket and withdrew a white handkerchief which he dabbed against his damp forehead. 

      He looked to be around forty, with close-cropped brown hair and a lean face.  His face was flushed now.  Perspiration trickled down one temple.  According to the weather report, Jackie had heard earlier, the temperature had already climbed to 104 - a new record for June in Kentucky.  Unlike Webster, she was dressed for the heat in knee-length shorts and a loose cotton maternity top.  Her blonde hair hung to her shoulders, in a thick, comfortable, ponytail.

      “We can speak inside,” she said,  “out of the sun.”

      “Thank you.  I’d appreciate it.”

      Jackie waited for Webster to take the weight of the door, then stepped back for him to enter.  She gave him plenty of room, compensating for the fact that at nine months and five days pregnant, she was as round as a beach ball.  In the hall, sunlight glinted off the light oak railing and the gleaming tiles.  She’d been dusting when her doorbell rang.  The scent of lemon was in the air.

      “I’m here about your husband, Mrs. Elliot.”

      Of course he would be.  Sam had been gone three days.  

# # #

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