She replied that Mrs. Heath might not be watching Lucy so closely in broad daylight. On the big grounds of the Glidden place, among its many trees and bushes, Lucy with her outdoors chores could quite naturally “wander” out of sight.
“If the plan doesn’t work”—Vicki caught her breath at the chance—“if anything goes wrong, Mr. Hall, then you’d better call the police.”
“How will I know your plan hasn’t succeeded?”
“When I drive back to San Francisco bringing Lucy, I’ll call you. That should be about three or three thirty. Four, at the latest. I’ll call you then. Or if there’s trouble at any point, I’ll try to phone you.”
“And if I don’t hear from you by four tomorrow I’m to call the police?”
“Yes, Mr. Hall. Thank you very, very much.”
“I don’t like it,” he said. “It’s dangerous—”
“I don’t like it much myself. But it’s the best we can do.”
They left it at that, and said good-by until the next day. Vicki felt grateful that she had someone like Mr. Hall to rely on.
In the fog Vicki found the airport’s bus stop. She rode back slowly over blurred roads and bridges. When she got off the bus in downtown San Francisco, the pavement seemed bottomless under her feet. She reached her hotel, glad to be indoors where there were lights. Though it was nowhere near noon, Vicki settled down in her room to wait for the Flight Supervisor’s call.