Sinister Secrets

      The young woman discarded the Daily News, where under her father’s picture the headlines read:
Was He A Cold Blooded Murderer?

      Saraphina Briar adjusted her sunglasses to hide her tears. She reached up to retrieve her bag from the overhead compartment, and then departed the plane. The article was a reminder of her parents’ tragic deaths, and all of the unanswered questions surrounding them.

      Inside the terminal she passed an elderly woman dressed in a miniskirt with hair the color of flax; a teenager and his female companion standing and singing loudly near a hole-in-the-wall, overpriced restaurant . There was a man in a dingy suit begging for spare change. No one paid them any attention. Los Angeles is the only place where you can wear sunglasses on a cold and overcast day and no one notices.

      Walking toward the escalator she was uneasy, fearing that someone might recognize her. She’d dressed that morning in baggy sweats, jogging shoes, and a Dodger baseball cap. Stepping onto the moving stairway she felt her spirit descending along with the metal stairs, and the anger and hurt returned. She wondered why, why couldn't they just let it rest?

      On the main floor she anxiously looked around through a sea of faces trying to locate her grandmother’s driver, John. Busy people were pushing and shoving, with not a minute of their lives to waste. She felt a tap on her shoulder twenty steps onward, and panic went through her, thinking it was a reporter.

      “Miss Sara, it’s me dear. Can I have your baggage ticket?”

      “Oh my gosh! You frightened...thank you John. I…I was…yes, here, take it.” She pulled it from her Coach bag and gave it to him with a shaky hand. “I‘ll go wait in the car if you don't mind. Where did you park?”

      John took the check. “Lot A, just across the street. Space 62,” he answered, handing her the keys.

      “Thanks.”

      John was a tall, pleasant looking man, certainly old enough to retire, but he was much too devoted to leave her grandmother. When she was younger she'd imagined they were in love-but that would not have been proper. She dismissed the idea from her mind, but like a nagging cough it hung on over the passing of years.

      Sara quickly made her way through the exit doors, and to her dismay heard somebody call out, “Hey! You someone famous?

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: (c) Serena Axel 2012
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 13.03.2012
ISBN: 978-3-7368-8720-6

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