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She made a cup of coffee and let it grow cold while she sat in the dark. Tracy wanted desperately to call Charles and tell him what had happened, to have him at her side. She looked at the kitchen clock. It was 3:30 A.M. She did not want to awaken him; she would telephone him from New Orleans. She wondered whether this would affect their wedding plans,newport menthol cigarettes, and instantly felt guilty at the thought. How could she even think of herself at a time like this? Lieutenant Miller had said, "When you get here,marlboro reds, grab a cab and come to police headquarters." Why police headquarters? Why? What had happened?
Standing in the crowded New Orleans airport waiting for her suitcase,newport menthol 100s, surrounded by pushing,Golden Virginia Tobacco,cheap marlboro cigarettes online026, impatient travelers, Tracy felt suffocated. She tried to move close to the baggage carousel, but no one would let her through. She was becoming increasingly nervous, dreading what she would have to face in a little while. She kept trying to tell herself that it was all some kind of mistake,marlboro gold pack, but the words kept reverberating in her head: I'm afraid I have bad news for you.... She's dead,cheap newports, Miss Whitney.... I hate to break it to you this way....
When Tracy finally retrieved her suitcase, she got into a taxi and repeated the address the lieutenant had given her: "Seven fifteen South Broad Street,camel cigarettes, please."
The driver grinned at her in the rearview mirror. "Fuzzville, huh?"
No conversation. Not now. Tracy's mind was too filled with turmoil. |
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