haven’t seen.”
“Mr. Michaels, my FAA counterparts and I are very experienced in this type of work. If we need you, we’ll contact you. Anyway, the aircraft is still potentially a biohazard.”
“A biohazard?”
“Yes. In a fatality, blood is spilled. Toxins, poisons and all manner of potentially dangerous hazardous materials may have been released as a result of the accident and may still be harmful to the investigation
team.” Reid sighed. “Look, Mr. Michaels, we investigate everything—toxicology, metallurgy, pilot performance, as well as mechanical failures. Rest assured we
look into every aspect of an aircraft accident.”
“How long before I’ll be told what is happening?”
“I couldn’t say for sure. I believe this case to be a straight forward one and a final result should be published in six months.”
Josh frowned. He wondered if he’d still be alive in six months.
“Some cases can take years,” Reid concluded.
“What about Jack Murphy?”
“If we find that he was at fault, then the NTSB will take action. We only have the power to fine or suspend.
Only the federal justice system and you or Mr. Keegan’s family may take things to another level—
criminally, that is.”
Josh gave it one more shot. “With all your years of experience, have you ever known of an accident of this type—loose bolts and unions?”
“Personally, I haven’t. It is unusual, but not impossible.
Don’t let the uniqueness of the accident make you think there was foul play.”
Josh opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He wanted to ask more questions, but he knew it was
pointless. Reid wasn’t interested in Josh’s beliefs. Josh read between the lines. The investigator saw him as a hindrance. His manner said Josh was a man too close to the disaster to be objective. Josh created an uncomfortable silence between the two men.
“Well, Mr. Michaels. I do have a case to investigate, so if you will excuse me.” Terrance Reid went to the door and opened it. He offered his hand to Josh.
Josh stood up and shook the investigator’s hand.
“Thanks for coming in, Mr. Michaels. I’ll be in
touch.”
Josh knew he stood no chance of seeing his aircraft again. Nothing short of breaking into the hangar
would gain him access to his plane. He couldn’t afford to add a federal crime to his list of mistakes.
Josh was still preoccupied with his visit with Reid when he let himself into his home. He decided to leave the NTSB to do their job. There was little point in pushing them. Mitchell had done his job too well. They would never believe someone had planned the crash.
There was too much room for doubt.
He walked into the house as Abby bounded down
the stairs with an unstable looking Wiener sliding down with her. “Daddy, you’re back!”
At least someone was pleased to see him.
“Abby, Abby, please be quiet for a moment, I’m
talking,” Kate said in a firm tone.
Abby stopped in her tracks and bit her bottom lip.
“Sorry, Mom.”
“That’s okay, hon,” Kate said.
Josh bent down to pet the excited dachshund at his ankles.
Kate put the phone back to her ear. “Sorry about
that. Josh just came in. Well, like I was saying, I’ll be coming back to work tomorrow.” She paused while the other person responded. “Okay then, I’ll see you Tuesday,”
she said and hung up.
Kate’s decision surprised him. She hadn’t mentioned returning to work early. He’d assumed she’d return to work when he did. He’d already informed his company he’d be back late Thursday morning after Mark’s funeral.
He felt betrayed. Abby held out her arms and
Josh picked her up. “I thought you were going back to work after Mark’s funeral on Thursday.”
“I’ve decided to go back tomorrow. Abby’s school
started today and you’re okay now. I’ve used most of my leave for this year and I want to keep some.”
He frowned. Somehow he didn’t quite believe Kate.
It felt like she wanted to distance herself from him and his problems. She was pushing him away; rejecting him. He didn’t think her decision was part of a healthy answer.
It wasn’t going as well as Bob Deuce thought it would.
He’d expected the police to be pleased that he had some evidence and logic to support Josh’s wild account of the man on the bridge who now seemingly stalked his every move. Bob detailed Mitchell’s visit to his office under the guise of an investment representative and his inquiry into Josh’s and Margaret Macey’s personal lives. Bob thought that Mitchell’s presence at Josh’s birthday party gave him the means and opportunity to make the threatening phone call. He hoped that his account would be the inspiration the officers needed to go after Mitchell and take the heat off Josh.
It didn’t. The cops weren’t biting. The bait wasn’t juicy enough for them.
Bob had called the Sacramento Police Department
from his office and made an appointment to see them.
Luckily, he’d gotten a hold of Officer Williams, the more open of the two policemen—or so Josh had said.
Williams promised Bob five minutes around lunchtime and he’d made the trip downtown to the city police station and parked opposite the library.
They led Bob to a drab looking interview room with gray walls, plastic chairs and a Formica-topped table. He sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs and Williams did likewise on the opposite side of the table, while Brady parked his rear on the corner of the table next to his colleague.
Brady looked stony-faced and as impenetrable as
a rock. Williams, as Josh described, was amicable and willing to offer his time. Bob could see that the police officers wanted to dump him and get on with their jobs.
“Do you know where we can find James Mitchell?”
Officer Williams asked.
“I have no idea. That’s the problem. I tried to get a hold of this guy after Josh told me about him, but he doesn’t exist. The company he said he worked for has never heard of him.”
“That’s not a lot of help to us, is it, sir?” Officer Brady picked at a fingernail.
Bob felt his irritation grow. “I don’t know. You’re the cops, not me. What does your training tell you to do— eat doughnuts?”
Brady leapt up from the table. “You think that’s
funny, huh?”
Williams jumped to his feet, sending the chair sliding back behind him and snapped a hand to Brady’s arm.
“Cool it. Everyone, please.”
The two men did as Williams demanded and retook
their places.
“Mr. Deuce … can I call you Bob?”
Bob nodded.
