“Kendra’s eyes had widened at the thought. “It never occurred to anyone that Webster could be telling the truth. That all these years, he’s been in prison . . .”
“Where he does undoubtedly belong,” Adam muttered, “if not for this crime, then for all the others.”
“While someone else has been free, all this time.”
He’d been silent for a while then, his mind quickly processing the possibilities. He hadn’t liked what he’d come up with.
Adam’s earliest opportunity for a bit of privacy hadn’t come until they reached the airport in Tucson. He used it to first call John Mancini, then Miranda Cahill. After a brief chat, he’d tersely asked her to meet their flight when they landed at Philadelphia International Airport later that evening.
“Something important?” Kendra asked when she emerged from a trip to the ladies’ room to find Adam standing as if in a trance, staring out the window, his cell phone still in his hand.
“What? Oh, maybe. Look, they’re letting passengers on board our flight.
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