How did I go from being kidnapped by my Mother-in-law on December 28, to falling from a plane New Year’s Eve? I’ll tell you, but it’s a blur to me too. I was so used to a eccentric, almost disconnected version of Isla Lindsay, that this sharper version made me feel disconnected.
“Mrs. Kelly, what’s going on?” I asked, remembering her pseudonym. She laughed, then sighed.
“Dear, I think we’re way passed Mrs. Kelly. Monty’s piecing things together, much to Sven and Brendan’s dismay. Now it’s up to me to step in and mop it all up.”
She offered to drive me to where I was staying. I agreed, and thought I’d ask a few questions, since she was in a talking mood. “What are the three of you all involved in? Why the big act? You can’t be trying to go unnoticed, the eccentric bit draws to much attention.”
She smiled. “Honey, there’s more than one way to keep a secret. The important thing is we’re all still alive to keep it. Although you almost couldn’t say that. Your investigation is much bigger than you know. Do me a favor, keep safe, Monty needs you.”
With that, she dropped me off. I spent the next few hours, gun in hand, my bedroom door locked, and trying to piece together this mess. After dozing off for a few hours, I got ready, and went to confront my client.
I called from the car. “I need to see you. I have some questions. Where can we meet?” When he said he was heading to the airport, I should have refused, I didn’t. Next week, I’ll tell you how a crash landing leads to my dropping into New Year’s.