A Flight of Fantasy (Sarah Woods Mystery 12) Read Free

vehicles.”
    “But you didn’t insist on checking her license?” Carter asked.
    “Well, no I didn’t. Mr. Miller was sitting right next to her in the passenger seat. He, um, had his hand on her thigh so I figured they were just coming back from a date. I didn’t want to insult the woman by asking for her I.D.”
    “We understand,” Carter said, pointing to a video camera mounted on the post. “Any chance we can see the footage from Thursday night?”
    “I don’t have access to the digital files but I can give you a number to call.”
    “That’d be great.” Carter accepted the phone number that Henry had graciously written on the back of the security company’s business card. “We appreciate your help.”
    “Anything for Mr. Miller,” Henry replied with the tip of his cap.
    When we returned to the Buick, Carter made the call and set up an appointment for the following morning.
    It’s getting late,” Carter said. “Let’s head back to Bridgeport.”
    On the forty-minute ride home north via the 95 turnpike, I did a search on my tablet for the Flight of Fantasy event at the Hilton. According to the website, the event was hosted by a non-profit organization called Helping Hands which raises money for the homeless. Tickets were $75.00 per person which included the tequila sampling and gourmet appetizers. “I thought the ‘flight’ had to do with aviation,” I said, “but in this context it means tequila flight as in a sampling. I guess I’d never heard it used that way.”
    “What time did the event start and end?” he asked.
    “From 8:00 until 11:00pm. And there are about a dozen photographs that someone put up from that night. The event coordinator must have hired a professional photographer as a Jonas Eckert is credited for the photos.” I scanned through them but couldn’t find one with Wayne Miller. “Looks like it was quite a turnout. Must have been hundreds of people at least.”
    Carter gave me an encouraging look. “We’ll get in touch with the photographer. Chances are he only uploaded a small fraction of what he actually shot that night. With any luck, he still has the others. It would be helpful to get a copy of a photo of this mystery woman talking with Wayne.”
    It was eleven o’clock by the time Carter pulled in front of my apartment. “You’re welcome to come up if you want. I know it’s late, but we can talk about the case. Or we can talk about other things.”
    Carter arched an eyebrow. “Other things?”
    “You know, catch up on stuff. I haven’t seen you in a week. What have you been doing with yourself? You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?”
    A disconcerted look crossed his face. “Avoiding you? Why would you think that?”
    “After our job in Connecticut, things feel different between us. Have you met someone else?” I tried to keep my tone light and playful.
    “I’m just giving you space, that’s all.” He took my hand and held it gently. “Remember I told you I’m a patient man. Besides, the ball’s in your court. When you’re ready to play, I’m here.”
    I chuckled at his analogy. “You still think I’m hung up on Max?”
    He shrugged. “You guys were close. Takes time.”
    “We weren’t that close,” I said. “He was a rebound after my divorce. A lovely distraction. He was too young for me anyway. I knew it wouldn’t last.”
    “Max asked me not to tell you, but he called me last week.”
    “What? Why would he do that?”
    “He called me under the pretense of asking a technical question about surveillance, but I think he just wanted to talk about you.”
    Now I understood why Carter had been acting a little distant. “What did he say?”
    “He asked how you were doing. He seemed … I don’t know, heartbroken?”
    I shook my head in bewilderment. “I thought he was pissed at me. He hasn’t returned any of my emails since we broke up. I guess he’s trying to punish me or something.”
    “Well, I could tell in his voice that he