Page 26 of Tinley's Daddy
Josh did the same with his larger suitcase.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
“Let’s go.” His eyes scanned the room one last time. My gaze dropped to my little safe spot near the couch. I inhaled and exhaled. I watched him move toward the door. He held the door open, looked up and down the hallway, and then turned to me. He wanted to say more, but he didn’t.
I peered out the door and looked both ways. I stepped out and Josh secured the door and followed.
“Can you manage that?” he asked as we made our way down the hall.
“I got it.” I walked in step with him.
Thankfully, he had slowed down. We rode the elevator down to the parking garage. A black SUV waited for us at the curb. Josh handed our bags off to the driver and opened the back seat door. I climbed into the truck and plopped down on the seat. Josh had his hands ready for if I fell off. He reached for the seatbelt and pulled it across my torso. He secured it and shut the door. He walked around the back of the truck and spoke to the driver, then slid into the seat next to me and buckled his own seat belt.
“You okay?”
I nodded.
“Good.” He rested his hand on the center console. His eyes darted around, looking for something. I placed my hand over his.
“Are you okay?” I squeezed his hand.
“I’m fine.” He held back. It was torture for him. I could see it in his eyes.
The car took off and seemed to have a direct route to the airport. It wasn’t Charles de Gaulle, but a smaller airport. We drove through a security gate and directly toward a jet on the tarmac.
“We’re flying in a private jet?” I scooted up in the seat to see better. It was a sleek black plane with a white strip that ran from tip to tail. Besides the tail number, there were no other distinguishing characteristics of the plane. “Is this your plane?”
“No.” Josh laughed. “I mean, we have planes. The company does, but we chartered this plane to get us back to the States quicker.” Josh undid his seat belt. “Wait for me to come around and get you.”
He stepped out of the car and walked to the back of the plane with the driver. They exchanged more words. It was muffled by the closed door. He and Josh searched the area. A group of people in uniforms approached. I reached for the handle but stopped myself. Josh asked me to stay for a reason. Was I being smuggled out of the country? I felt like I was in a spy movie. Josh walked around and opened my door.
I’d already undone my seat belt.
“The customs agents are here. They have to ask you a few questions.” He helped me down. “Agent Stanley provided you with a temporary passport that will get you out of the country and back into the States.” He took my hand.
One of the ladies in the group didn’t wait. She approached us.
“Ma’am, I must ask you a few questions before we can let you go. Please step over here with me.” She was tall and blond and had a Parisian accent, but her English was good.
I looked at Josh. He nodded. I followed the woman a few steps away. Josh was within earshot.
She scrolled through an iPad she held in the crook of her arm. She pulled at her collar and frowned. “Your full name, please.”
“Tinley Ann Peterson.”
“Date of birth, please.”
She asked all the same identifying questions plus a few more.
I answered them. She tapped on the screen after each of my answers.
“Please remove the hood.”
I pushed it back. My hair was still a mess in a braid down my back.
“Do you agree to leave France with this man?” she asked.
