Free Cast An Evil Eye by Ruthe Ogilvie

watch. “Eleven o’clock. I’ll call Gus in a couple of hours.”
    Jay sat down in the chaise beside him. “What do you plan to do if he’s not there?”
    “I’ll fly to Paris. I may be able to pick up a clue about what happened.” He looked at his watch again. “It was eight o’clock here when Gus called. That would make it one o’clock in Paris. The flight to Spain was due to take off in about fifteen minutes from the time he called. It takes about two and a half hours to fly to Madrid. He should be at the hotel by six o’clock Madrid time—one o’clock here—figuring in time for the cab from the airport. That is, if he made the flight. I have a strong hunch he didn’t. I can’t seem to shake the feeling.”
    “Why don’t you take a swim with us?” Jay suggested. “It might relax you till it’s time to call Gus.”
    Zack grimaced. “You go ahead,” he told Jay. “I don’t feel much like fun and games at the moment. I’ll sit here and soak up some sun. That should relax me enough to gather my thoughts and figure out what to do if Gus isn’t there.”
    The next two hours seemed to drag. Zack dozed off and on for a couple of hours in the chaise. It was one-fifteen when he awoke and went up to his room to call Gus.
    “Gus Johnson, please,” Zack requested when the hotel clerk answered.
    “One moment, please,” he heard the operator say.
    As he sat there waiting for her answer he tried unsuccessfully to shake the dire sense of foreboding that refused to leave him.
    It seemed forever before she returned on the line. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said. “He’s not in his room.”
    Zack’s heart sank. “Please have him call me,” he told her. “It’s urgent.” He gave her his number and hung up, extremely disturbed. He picked up the phone again and dialed Parisian Airlines. His voice trembled as he spoke to the ticket agent. “I’m checking to see if today’s Flight #4 from Paris to Madrid, Spain, arrived on time.”
    “Yes, Sir,” the clerk told him. “It got in a little early.”
    “Was there a Gus Johnson on board?” he asked anxiously.
    “Let me check.” After a moment of silence she came back on the line. “No, Sir. He was listed as a passenger, but he never showed up. Will that be all, Sir?”
    “When does the next flight leave for Paris?”
    “There’s one leaving in an hour and fifteen minutes.”
    “Please book me on it. This is Zack Davis.”
    “How do you wish to pay for this, Mr. Davis?”
    “Put it on my credit card.” He gave her the number and the expiration date.
    “You’re all set, Sir. Please be here as soon as possible. Will there be anything else?”
    “No, that’s all.” Zack quickly replaced the phone on its cradle and rushed to the closet. In less than five minutes he had packed his carry-on luggage. He had just time enough to call Nate and tell him Gus didn’t arrive in Spain.
    He ran downstairs just as Jay entered the foyer.
    Jay eyed the carry-on in Zack’s hand. “Gus Johnson wasn’t at the hotel?” he guessed.
    “He wasn’t on the plane. I just made a reservation on the next flight to Paris. I’ve got to see if I can help him.”
    “What time does it leave?” Jay asked.
    “In an hour.”
    Jay picked up the phone in the hall. “I’ll call the chauffeur. What shall I tell the others?”
    “It’s okay to tell Hildy the whole story. Simply tell the others that I’ve gone to help a friend. That’s all they need to know. Don’t tell them where I’ve gone. Somehow word gets around, and I don’t want to take any chances that Manny will find out. He might try to stop me.”
    The chauffeur pulled up under the porte-cochere. Zack grabbed his carry-on, sped through the door and into the limo, and was on his way to Paris to try and find Gus.

CHAPTER XIII  
    G len Macdonald exited the stage door of the theatre where “Déjà Vu” was playing. He didn’t wait for the closing curtain. He was tired and hungry, and deeply disturbed by the