I’ve missed you.” He held her as though he’d never let go. Eventually Rachel pushed back and said, “I . . . I guess I should see about—”
A middle-aged man in a black trench coat and dark felt hat approached them. He opened a black umbrella and held it over Rachel to shield her from the spring shower as he talked. “Excuse me,” he said, in a voice as somber as his attire. “Miss Moore? I’m Bill Smith. President Madison’s office arranged for us to meet the plane and take the body of Dr. Lambert.”
“Oh. We . . . we hadn’t talked about the details.” She looked uncertainly at Josh. “I guess it’s okay.”
“Could we see some identification?” Josh asked.
“Of course.” Smith pulled out a wallet, which he opened to show a Texas driver’s license bearing his name and photo. Then he brought out a card identifying him as a member of the National Funeral Directors Association.
“Thank you,” Josh said. He turned to Rachel and gave a small nod.
Smith raised a clipboard in the hand not holding the umbrella. “If you’ll just sign this form, we’ll do the rest.”
Rachel took the pen from under the clip and signed the paper. “And that’s all?”
“Do I need to call someone to pick you up? Anything else we can do?” the man asked.
“I’ll take care of her,” Josh said.
As the hearse pulled away, Josh took Rachel’s arm. “Let’s get in out of the rain. What about your luggage?”
“I only have this carry-on. Mr. Madison said not to worry about the rest of my things—someone would pack them and send them back. I guess all I have to do right now is clear customs.” She took Josh’s hand. “I thought that once someone else took charge of Dr. Lambert’s body, I’d feel some relief, but I don’t . . . I . . .
I . . .”
“Later. We’ll talk about it all you want, but right now let’s get you home.”
As they arrived at the glass door into the terminal, it slid back to reveal an older man wearing a black suit and a somber expression. “Miss Moore?”
“Yes. Did President Madison arrange for you to meet me?”
The man nodded and stepped back so Josh and Rachel could enter. “I apologize for being a few minutes late. There was an accident on Mockingbird Lane that held us up.” He handed her a business card, then reached into the breast pocket of his coat and produced a three-page document. “I’m Vernon Wells with Sparkman Hillcrest Funeral Directors. The coach will be pulling around next to the plane in a moment. If you’ll sign this, we’ll take possession of Dr. Lambert’s body.”
Chapter 2
2
Josh looked at Rachel, who stood in stunned silence, her mouth forming a tiny O. At this point, he figured the less said, the better. “Mr. Wells, there’s been a mix-up.” He gestured with the business card Wells had given him. “Someone will be in touch.”
Wells said something about “mistakes happen, I guess.” He left, a somewhat puzzled expression on his face.
Rachel looked as though she might throw up right there. “Oh, Josh. What have I done?”
Josh put his hand on her elbow and urged her further inside the terminal. “Obviously you hadn’t been briefed on the hand-off of Lambert’s body. Smith, if that’s what his name was, showed proper identification. There was no reason to suspect the encounter was anything but routine. I don’t think you could have handled it any differently.”
An official waited for her a dozen steps further into the terminal. “Miss Moore? Mr. Madison asked me to meet you.” He nodded toward Rachel’s carry-on bag. “Do you have anything to declare?”
“What? No. No,” Rachel said, in a distracted voice.
“Then you’re free to go.”
“I . . . I have to make a call first,” Rachel said.
The official said, “Follow me. There’s a meeting room down here you can use.”
Once they were inside the room, Josh thanked the man and closed the door behind them. Rachel took one of the swivel chairs arranged around an oval table and pulled out her cell phone. “I have the number of the satellite phone Jerry Lang carries.”
As she punched in the numbers, Josh asked, “Who’s Jerry Lang?”
“The head of the Secret Service detail assigned to guard the former president,” Rachel said. “He’s—” She cocked her head. “Jerry, this is Rachel Moore. I need to speak to Mr. Madison.”
She listened for a moment. “I see. Well, please ask him to call me back at this number ASAP. It’s urgent.” She read off her cell number and ended the conversation. “He’ll get back to me in a few minutes.”
After a moment’s silence, Rachel asked, “Should we notify the police?”
“I suppose,” Josh said. “I guess stealing a body is a crime. Probably Agent Lang or someone on Mr. Madison’s staff will know. I suggest you let them take care of that.” He motioned her to take a seat. “In the meantime, I know you’re concerned about what just happened, but it’s not your fault.”
“That’s what Mr. Madison said about Dr. Lambert’s death, but I still felt bad that none of the medical workers on the trip could save him,” Rachel said.
The ring of her cell phone interrupted her. “Mr. Madison? This is Rachel. Something terrible has happened. It looks as though someone has stolen Dr. Lambert’s body.”
Rachel sketched the details of the bogus mortuary pickup, then listened for a moment. “I see. Thank you. I’m really sorry—”
Josh couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but obviously it was designed to help settle Rachel. Finally, she said, “I see. Yes, I’ll be here. And I’ll give Josh the message.”
“So?” Josh asked.
“Agent Lang will contact the Dallas Police. I’m to wait here for them. And I have a message for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes. When I left, Mr. Madison told me he wanted to meet with you as soon as he got back.” Rachel frowned. “Now he’s changed his plans. The rest of the group will be returning to the U.S. in a few more days, but he’s arriving tomorrow. And he said it’s extremely important that you meet his plane.”
***
“Are you okay this morning,” Josh asked when Rachel answered her phone.
“I didn’t get much rest, but it’s good to be home. I haven’t heard from the police yet about Dr. Lambert’s body.”
“I’m afraid that may take a while,” Josh said. “I need to meet Mr. Madison’s plane this afternoon, but I can come over
