Free Fall at Angel Creek, page 12
“Okay. Well, I was walking around outside the night of the crash, near Lone Mountain Road, and I looked up and saw a white streak zoom across the sky. Then I heard an explosion and saw stuff on fire, falling out of the sky. It was horrible.”
“Was anyone with you when you saw this?”
“Yeah. My buddy Daryl was down the road from me, but he saw the same thing.”
“Do you think I could speak to him?”
“No. He’s busy. But he’ll tell you the same thing. We saw a missile shoot down that plane.”
This was all she would get from him tonight.
“Christian, before we leave, is there anything else you’d like us to know? Is there anyone you know of who would want to take down that airplane?”
“I have nothing more to say. I need to get back to work.”
She and Paul left the house and the compound. This was important information, and she needed to talk to River about it.
* * *
After a couple hours of sleep, River felt better and was eager to get out in the field and back to work. She looked for Dee, disappointed she’d already gone, but also a little relieved. She wasn’t ready to talk anymore about awkward personal stuff with Dee. She’d run into her later, and maybe they could just discuss the investigation. She drove over to the hangar to see the latest finds and check on any more reports.
River heard a voice behind her that made her skin crawl.
“Nice of you to finally show up. Where have you been?” It was Ronald Moore.
Gritting her teeth before she replied, “I’ve been working, Ron.”
She knew he hated being called “Ron.” Using that name was childish, but it made her feel better to get in a little dig.
“What exactly have you been working on? I haven’t seen any reports from you so far.”
“You will have my reports when they are complete. By the way, we are missing training records for the captain from the Asian cargo company he flew for before he went to work for Relax Air. Do you think you could track those down for us? Thanks so much.” She turned and walked away from him before he could answer.
“All reports come to me first. Don’t forget that,” he shouted after her.
“Ass wipe.”
River had more important concerns than Ronald Moore’s delicate ego. She was behind in the investigation and didn’t like being at a disadvantage to anyone. She went over to look at the aircraft reconstruction. They’d made a lot of progress in finding most of the big pieces: the flight control surfaces, the three engines, parts of the fuselage, and the landing gear wheels. Most of the pieces they’d found had no burn marks or visible damage, except for the hole in the side of the right-wing engine. The shape of the opening reminded her of something familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. That puncture to the right engine was their closest proof of some kind of explosion big enough to bring down the plane. They still hadn’t found the critical part yet. She needed to get back out in the field and look for it.
Driving back to Angel Creek, River decided to widen her search pattern. She’d followed the creek upstream about a mile when she saw something pointed and silver in the trees ahead. She trudged through the thick brush to it, then stopped when she recognized the corner of a cargo container. As she cautiously approached so she wouldn’t step on any evidence, her heart raced, and her breathing quickened. This was the excitement of the hunt, the part of the job she loved most. Discovering the critical piece of evidence to solve an aircraft accident was like finding a big gold nugget. The chance was slim that this cargo container could be that critical piece of evidence, but it might be important.
As she got closer, she could see that it was a luggage container, and most of it was missing. The metal was in the curved shape of the belly of the plane, with clear plastic on one side. A few bags were stuck in a bent corner, but the rest of the luggage had been sucked out when the airplane blew up. She detected a faint odor of jet fuel. Not surprising since the fuel tanks had most likely ruptured during the explosion. She examined the exterior and couldn’t find any indication of scorching or bulging, classic signs of a bomb inside a suitcase.
River put on her gloves and carefully maneuvered around jagged metal, working her way into the container. She spotted an odd pink suitcase, intact, and resting on top of a few other bags. She photographed the torn container and the luggage, then reached in and pulled out the small pink object. It was an old Samsonite case from the 1960s. These had been marketed as the most indestructible you could buy, with a TV commercial featuring a gorilla trying to smash one open. She was drawn to it and had to know what was inside.
After she got the suitcase free of the container, she found a boulder with a flat spot, placed the case on top of it, and examined it more closely. No luggage tag—probably ripped off by explosive forces, no markings, and it was locked. River took out her multi-tool and pried open the lock. Inside, she found a layer of bubble wrap and, under that, a photo album and a leather satchel. She flipped through the photo album of mundane birthday and graduation pictures, then put it back. Then she took out the leather satchel, opened it, and found a stack of blue envelopes and white envelopes tied up with twine.
She sat down on a piece of soft grass, leaned back against the boulder, and read them. As she untied the twine, she noticed that most of them were sealed, except for two white envelopes with red Minnie Mouse stickers on them. She slowly removed the yellowed paper from the envelope and read aloud the words in a child’s handwriting:
Dear Sissy,
Where are you? I need you to come home! Mother and Daddy are yelling all the time. I miss you SO MUCH. Please come home.
I love you, Squirt
River flipped over the envelope to see who it was addressed to and read:
PFC Deborah Rawlings
Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri
The return address was from Naomi Rawlings, Killeen, Texas.
Oh my God. This is from Dee’s sister.
Chapter Sixteen
Dee was eager to leave the McClain compound. She much preferred working with her partner, Marcus, than the ATF agent, Paul. She also preferred to have much more firepower when going to chat with rabid white-nationalist, anti-government hate groups. Grateful to get out of there in one piece, she hoped her eyewitness interviews would help River. Actually, she was hoping River would say something positive about her work. She didn’t need her approval, though she wanted her to respect her as a professional.
Then she recalled how bad River had looked this morning. After watching her get sick last night, Dee was worried about her. Hopefully, she’d gotten some more sleep and was feeling better. She was looking forward to speaking to her when she got back to the hotel, not only to update River with the investigation progress, but also to just talk to her.
Some of the things River told her over lunch intrigued her, and she wanted to know more, like how she became an air force pilot. She also wanted to know how River worked through the death of her mother in that plane crash thirty-one years ago. Dee wasn’t dealing with her grief, and she knew it. She was staying busy so she wouldn’t have to think about it, but she couldn’t run from it forever. Dee would have to face Naomi’s death, her husband and family, and the aftermath of this crash, but she had no idea how to do that.
Dee hoped she could have dinner with River. Maybe they could actually leave the hotel and go eat at a restaurant, instead of just having room service again. She didn’t just want to talk about the interviews she’d completed with the McClains. She wanted to understand more about River as a person, not just a coworker.
Back at the hotel, Dee was glad River was in her room, almost like she’d been waiting for her. “Hey. Have you eaten dinner? I have some info to go over with you about the McClain interviews, and I’m kind of hungry.”
“No. I haven’t eaten yet. The guys like the barbecue place down the street. Want to go there?”
“Sounds good. It’s nice outside, if you’d like to walk.”
It was evening but still light, with a soft breeze and the scent of pine in the air. It was pleasant walking with River, away from the loud guys and the tension of the investigation.
When they entered, the smoke smell made Dee’s mouth water. “I hope their barbecue’s good. I’m kind of a snob about brisket.”
“Why’s that?” River asked.
“Because I’m from Texas, and we have the best brisket in the world.”
River smiled. “Is that so? Please don’t tell me you’re one of those obnoxious Texans who thinks everything from their state is the biggest and the best.”
“Yes. We do have the best barbecue. And, no, I’m not one of those obnoxious Texans. When I was growing up, we used to go to this giant western-clothing store in Lot, Texas, to buy school clothes, and they had the best brisket I’ve ever tasted.”
River was smirking at her. “Why was it the best?”
Dee leaned back, closed her eyes, and tried to recall every detail of her favorite meal.
“The brisket would cook all day in a huge black smoker outside, where the amazing smell would surround you. Then they’d give you a big paper plate full of sliced brisket with just the right amount of sauce, potato salad, ranch beans—which are tangy, not sweet—and a big piece of Texas toast. The brisket was charred on the outside, tender and juicy inside, with the most amazing flavor. It would melt in your mouth. Naomi would eat so much she’d almost make herself sick.” The sweet memory made her ache inside. “I guess we’ll never do that again.”
River looked at her but didn’t say anything. Their food arrived, and they ate together without talking much.
After the server took their plates, River asked, “So is their brisket acceptable?”
“It’s very good, but not as good as the barbecue in Lot.”
“My food was excellent. Good suggestion to come here. It’s nice to take a break from the investigation.”
“Can I ask you a personal question? How did you get through your mother’s death in that plane crash? I’m having a hard time with everything. Just talking about barbecue makes me tear up. Do you have any suggestions?”
River was quiet for a moment, then reached across the table to hold Dee’s hand and looked into her eyes. “Surviving that accident and my mother’s death was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. But I was lucky, and I had help, starting with the nurse who rescued me the day of the accident.”
“What happened?”
River took a deep breath. “I found this out after I woke up in the hospital when a nurse named Betty came to see me. She was in the Iowa National Guard, at the Sioux City airport, and was on duty the day of the crash. A whole lot of National Guardsmen helped with the accident because they were there for training. Betty told me she found me unconscious, hanging upside down by my seat belt, in a part of the plane that came to a stop in a cornfield. Betty and another Guardsman freed me from the seat and carried me away from the plane before it caught fire.”
River took a big drink of iced tea.
“You don’t have to talk about this if it’s too hard, River.”
“No. I want you to know. When I saw the video of the landing, I couldn’t believe any of us survived. Betty saved me and came to visit me several times in the hospital while I was recovering. She also introduced me to a man who helped me tremendously.
“Six months after the accident, my body was recovering, but not my mind. My dad found me a good therapist, but I was overwhelmed with PTSD. I couldn’t sleep, I was afraid and anxious, and I couldn’t talk about it. Then Betty called me and said I had to come to their National Guard training assembly. They had a guest speaker who’d come to thank them—Captain Al Haynes.”
“I’ve heard that name before.”
“Captain Haynes, the pilot of the DC-10, was famous for making the impossible landing. The plane had lost all hydraulic fluid and had no flight controls, except for asymmetrical thrust from the wing engines. They tried to recreate the accident in the flight simulator, and no other pilots, including instructor pilots, were able to land the plane. He was amazingly humble and never took credit for what he did, but insisted on giving credit to his crew. Betty introduced me to him, and he became a mentor to me. He talked to me about his injuries and took me with him to an accident-survivor’s group therapy. We all had PTSD from the crash, and I realized I wasn’t the only one who suffered from guilt that we survived.”
“Why did you feel guilty? You couldn’t have done anything.”
“I was consumed with guilt because I’d asked my mom to fly with me. If I hadn’t been afraid to fly by myself, she wouldn’t have died that day. I thought my life was over at the age of thirteen, and at times I wished I had died with her, because it was too hard to go on.”
River had to stop speaking for a moment. Talking about her past was clearly difficult for her, but she continued.
“Betty and Al Haynes would call and check on me, and we’d just talk. They were lights at the end of a long, dark tunnel for me. I’m not sure I would have made it without them. Eventually, it did get better, and Al helped me find a purpose for my life—flying.”
River withdrew her hand from Dee’s and leaned back. “Dee, you will get through this, but it will take time. I can tell you only that you can’t run away from loss. You have to face it, get a good therapist, and walk through the grief to get to the other side, or it will cripple you forever.”
Dee listened to her advice and appreciated that River was trying to help her. “I’m not sure I can do this, but I do understand guilt. If it wasn’t for my actions sixteen years ago, I wouldn’t have lost contact with Naomi for so long, and she wouldn’t have been on that plane. I’m responsible for her death.”
* * *
They were both silent on their walk back to the hotel. River had spilled her guts to Dee but didn’t know if it had done any good. Watching Dee tear up when she talked about Naomi made her question her decision to let Dee work on this investigation. Someone personally involved should not be allowed to participate in a case concerning family, for good reasons. Their judgment was impaired by grief, and Dee had a great deal of guilt to work through. She was fragile emotionally, and one wrong word, or memory, could put her at risk for a psychological breakdown.
After seeing Dee tormented by her PTSD all night long, she couldn’t take the chance that the letters she’d discovered would trigger her to have another attack. If she did, River wouldn’t be able to give her the care she needed and still do her own work. Plus, if she turned in the suitcase with the letters, the investigators would confiscate them and test everything for chemical residue, and Dee might not get them back. Removing anything from an accident site was forbidden, but these would be important to Dee, and River had to safeguard them.
She also had to admit she needed Dee’s help with this case. Her own health was questionable right now, and Dee could be her eyes and ears if she was stricken with more migraines. It was very clear to her that she couldn’t tell Dee about the letters she’d found in the pink suitcase. River would give the letters to her later, when she was more able to handle reading them. For now, she needed to keep them to herself.
After they returned to the hotel, Dee said, “Do you want to go over my interview notes from the McClain family members?”
“I’m a little too tired to process them tonight. How about tomorrow?”
“Sure. Well, good night then. See you tomorrow.”
Dee appeared disappointed as she entered her own room, then closed the door between them. River could hear Dee moving around. She went to open the door between their rooms a little so she could hear better, in case Dee had any more nightmares and needed help. Dee had locked her side of the door. She obviously didn’t want, or need, any assistance from River tonight.
Chapter Seventeen
Day 6
Dee woke up to the sound of her alarm. She was still tired, after tossing and turning most of the night, but grateful she hadn’t had her recurring PTSD nightmare of mangled bodies last night. She could hear River in the shower next door and wondered how she’d slept.
She sat on the side of the bed remembering her dinner with River last night. It was a nice evening of sharing a meal, until she’d had that memory of eating brisket with Naomi in Lot. The whole tone changed after that. Realizing she’d never have a chance to experience something so simple as eating barbecue with Naomi again made her feel so empty.
River showed her kindness when she talked about her own survival from a plane crash. She couldn’t imagine being only thirteen years old, losing your mother, and having to go through this. But Naomi had been only thirteen when their father kicked Dee out of their home. She’d had no choice at the time, but she still felt guilty for abandoning Naomi all those years ago.
River was right. She did have guilt and grief mixed together in a toxic concoction and had to find a way to get through it. Not today, but very soon, she had to call Dr. Lopez to make an appointment, and she had to talk to Naomi’s husband, Bill. Today, she had to get to work and find some answers. She heard a soft knock at the adjoining door between their rooms.
“Ready to go?” River asked.
“Yes.”
River looked different today, certainly a lot better than she did yesterday, when she’d had the migraine, but there was something else. She wore her same uniform of hiking boots, Levi jeans, and a plaid flannel shirt, but she looked lighter. She seemed to be not so tightly wound, almost relaxed, and she even smiled. Whatever it was, Dee was glad to see the change. They ate breakfast at the hotel buffet with the other team members, then went to the hangar for the morning briefing.
