“He is. He drugged her and raped her while she was incoherent. The cops think it was some sort of an Ecstasy and sedative cocktail.”
“What about the FBO manager? What did he say?”
“He said the guy he hired had brown eyes, quite certain of that, was quiet, kind of an introvert but did excellent work … in the short time he was there. He said McDonald and Sanders became friends right off the bat. They would go out after work for drinks. Nothing really out of the ordinary.”
She went on, “There’s something else too. I ran a check on his Social Security number and it checked out with an Ian McDonald living in Tacoma, Washington. The locals there are going to check him out.”
“Donna, fax everything you can over to Carol, police reports, descriptions, everything. Do it right after you get off the phone. I’ve got someplace to go first, and then I’ve got to find Pat.”
CHAPTER 27
Jake pulled into the Westin’s front entrance, identified himself, and gave his keys to one of the attendants with instructions to put the two chests in the hotel manager’s office under lock and key. He then headed to the Riverscape meeting room, where the NTSB had set up its command center. The room cluttered with telephones, fax machines, copy machines, files, and file cabinets with Carol sitting in the middle of the mess.
Phone lines ringing, copy machine printing, and a fax machine negotiating an incoming fax call. Carol was punching the buttons on the phone, stating, “NTSB, hold please.”
She shot Jake an exasperated look. “Jake, what’s going on out there? It’s been like this all morning.”
He looked down at her, the most efficient administrative assistant he’d ever seen, and said, “I’m here to save you, come with me. Just let the phones ring. Better bring your cell though.”
“What about all this?” she waved her arms over the room of actively buzzing business machines.
“Leave it. They’ll call back if it’s important. I need you now.”
He walked Carol downstairs, showed her the chests and gave her McGill’s instructions. He grinned. “Pat said make this your number one priority, so I guess the madhouse will just have to wait.”
“Yes! Thank the Lord,” she replied, giving him a big hug. “I could use a break.”
Jake hugged her back. “Also, Donna Greene from Dallas will be faxing some information here soon. It is very important. Can you let me know as soon as it gets here?”
“Sure, Jake, I’ll call you the moment I get it.”
“And Carol,” Jake said, “for the time being, this is strictly between you and me, okay?”
“Why, Jake? We don’t keep secrets.”
He smiled. “I’m not keeping secrets but I need to check out a few details first to make sure the information is…credible.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please Carol. As a favor to me. You know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
“Okay, Jake. I’ll do it for you.”
As he left the manager’s office, Beth was walking back in from the front of the hotel. She came straight to him, smiling.
“I thought that might be your Mustang outside,” she said.
“Yeah, I just stopped by to drop off the recorders so Carol can ship them to DC. I’m on my way back out to the airport now, to Gulfstream, then over to the TRACON. What are you going to do today?”
“I was about to go get lunch — can you go with me?”
“No, I don’t have time. I’ll just grab a burger on the way and eat it in the car. Where are you going?”
With a disappointed look, she said, “I’m going over to River Street. I want to check out the shops and eat lunch at Tubby’s Tankhouse. The valet said they have a good shrimp basket.”
“How about I walk you to the ferry and catch you up on everything that’s happened so far?”
They walked slowly toward the ferry landing while he explained all the gory details of Donna Greene’s call, his strange phone call from Dave, and the overwhelming evidence that McGill had about the midair collision.
Beth slugged Jake as hard as she could on his arm. “Dammit, Jake, I told you to call security last night. We could have been killed.”
He looked down at her while rubbing his arm. Her face was pale. “Wha— I thought you trusted me!”
“This isn’t about trust. That guy last night was a nutcase, babbling on about some dead man you don’t even know. And he spoke in riddles, too. Who talks like that anyway? He was crazy.”
Jake grabbed her trembling shoulders and turned her toward him. “Baby, this isn’t something you need to worry about. You go shop and try to take your mind off last night. Okay?”
“You should tell Pat.”
Jake looked up as the ferry announced its arrival at the dock. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Jake,” Beth called out over the ferry’s engine, “please be careful.”
He grinned. “Me? I’m always careful.”
Jake grabbed a burger, fries and a soft drink at a drive-through on the way to Gulfstream. As he turned on Gulfstream Boulevard, several police cars and an ambulance passed him, going the same direction. Lights flashing, sirens wailing. The emergency vehicles pulled into the Gulfstream entrance. He got an uneasy feeling in his stomach, so he sped up to the guard shack and flashed his credentials at the guard.
“Terrible thing about that accident,” the guard said. He motioned Jake through the gate.
When he saw which hangar the vehicles went to, the sudden implication of the police cars and ambulance hit him. A wave of nausea swept over him as he saw the paramedics running over to the crumpled fuselage lying on the hangar floor. Jake skidded to a stop outside the entrance of the hangar, jumped out of his Mustang and ran toward the hangar.
A policeman moved toward him with his hands up, motioning for him to stop. Jake flashed his credentials and pushed his way past the police. He fought his way through the people huddled around one side of the wreckage.
Then he saw the body. Only Dave’s head and left shoulder were visible from underneath the wreckage. A paramedic nearby was shaking his head, giving a “no” signal to the police officer, indicating Dave was already dead.
Jake stepped closer to one of the policemen. “What happened? How did this happen?”
“One of the Gulfstream workers, that guy over there,” the policeman pointed toward a small Hispanic man. “His name’s Hector Rodriguez. He saw this man standing underneath the wreckage while it was suspended in the air. He said he didn’t think anything of it until he heard a crashing sound. He came over here to see if he could help and that’s what he saw.”
The officer went on, “The wreckage had been unloaded off the flatbed over there by this crane, an all-terrain lift and carry crane that moved it into the hangar.”
“How did it fall?” Jake stared up at the crane, his eyes hard.
“We don’t really know yet. Maybe it lost hydraulic pressure or something.”
Jake looked at the officer. “Is this everybody that was working here?”
“As far as I know. Mr. Rodriguez said there was no one else around at the time he heard the crash.”
“One question, where’s the lift operator?”
CHAPTER 28
The NTSB Suburban whisked past an old farmhouse on the South Carolina gravel road, leaving a quarter-mile trail of dust behind it. Following the directions of the CAP aerial crew, the Suburban pulled up to the crowd of vehicles parked near a tidal creek. Three Jasper County deputies, an ambulance with two EMTs, and the farmer were awaiting the arrival of the Go Team.
McGill approached a deputy, “What have you got?” The deputy pointed to the creek. “The Cessna Skyhawk is located about thirty feet from the creek bank. It’s low tide right now so it’s exposed. It’s also inverted and its tail is missing.”