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“Yeah, I knew that much. We text now and then. Oh, one of the reasons I was calling tonight. I caught the tail end of a story on national news about a chopper crash in Jubilee. What happened?”
“Oh hell, little brother. It was pure chaos,” and then Sean began to tell him the whole story. The only thing he didn’t mention was meeting Amalie.
“Damn, Sean. What a nightmare. The news anchorsaid there were reports that one of the men on board was Wolfgang Outen,” B.J. said.
“I don’t know who he is,” Sean said.
“He attended a big dinner at our restaurant about a year ago. Big imposing guy. Oh…and a billionaire, to boot.”
“Really? So you’re rubbing shoulders with the upper class now,” Sean said.
“Hardly. I’m one of the nobodies in the kitchen. So, what’s happening at the school?” B.J. asked.
“Nothing yet. They were waiting for the NTSB investigators when I left the scene.”
B.J.’s voice deepened, a sign of his concern. “A bad situation all around. Keep me updated, and remember…the Jolly Green Giant news is a secret. Love you, brother. See you in a few months.”
“Can’t wait, and my lips are sealed,” Sean said.
The call ended.
Sean unmuted the sound on the TV, took another sip of his beer, and grabbed a pretzel.
The chopper crash and the probability of Wolfgang Outen’s demise was stirring up the past in New Orleans, as well.
Carter Bullock was in the living room with his wife, Leigh, waiting for the late-night newscast, and when it finally came on, the leading story shocked them. Thelast thing they expected to hear was the name Wolfgang Outen, and when they did, they immediately stared at each other.
Carter rolled his eyes and grinned. “It couldn’t have happened to a better man.”
Leigh glanced at him and then looked away. “At least we can sleep soundly again.”
“I haven’t suffered any sleep,” Carter snapped.
Leigh gave her lap robe a little tuck. “Don’t play cute with me,” the old woman said. “You know exactly what I mean.”
They were silent again as the show shifted to weather.
“Do you believe he and Cassandra will be reunited now?” Leigh asked.
Carter frowned and got up and poured himself a shot of whiskey.
“Not if there’s a God in heaven, they won’t,” he snapped, then tossed it back, swallowing it like medicine.
“She’ll tell him what we did,” Leigh said.
Carter threw the whiskey glass against the wall.
“So what? What are they going to do, haunt us?”
Leigh sniffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Some days you can be so crude. I’m going to bed.”
Morning brought a gray sky and snowflakes so tiny they didn’t have enough weight to fall. They just kept swirling in the air, drifting from place to place, like clouds of littlewhite gnats. It was a hell of a day to investigate a crash site, but the team from the NTSB had seen worse. At least they weren’t up on the side of a mountain, and within minutes, they began their setup.
They had permission from the school district for the use of the gymnasium. They tarped the floor to keep from damaging it, set up banquet-length tables in orderly rows, and then began the methodical process of sorting through the crash site and bagging evidence. A piece of the pilot’s body was found still strapped into the pilot’s seat.
So as far as they knew, Wolfgang Outen’s body had either blown up in the air, or what was left of the bits had turned to ash upon impact. All they could do was bag up ashes and debris in the hopes of finding enough DNA to confirm an ID, so they put in a call for more people to search the surrounding area, because there were bound to be body parts and pieces of the chopper scattered farther away.
What was already a nightmare was turning into a scene of true horror.
