The rest of Liz’s aircrew were down the beach a mile at the heliport, crawling over their helicopter, doing their own preflight assessments, checks, and rechecks. She usually enjoyed the alone time. Today it added to her restlessness. They had been instructed to sit tight and wait. All they were told was that the deputy director of Homeland Security and an FBI investigator were on their way. It sounded like they would be taking over the case. Liz thought it a waste of time for them to be grilled all over again. What new questions could they ask? What more information could their aircrew provide?
She remembered what her dad had said about body parts and felt a bit sick to her stomach. How stupid could Tommy Ellis be? But then how stupid had all four of them been? Sure, Wilson prodded them to open the cooler, but Kesnick should never have gone any further once they realized what they had found. It was Kesnick who pulled out each piece. Except the large one, the one they agreed looked like a torso. The plastic had been wrapped tight but it yielded enough that they could see the parts had been sliced clean. No rips or tears. Whoever had done this knew exactly where to cut and had the tools to do an efficient job.
Now Liz wondered if Kesnick confessed to the authorities yesterday how much he had handled the wrapped pieces. Liz certainly hadn’t said a word. She didn’t lie. But for all the questions, no one thought about asking, “Did you handle the contents? Do you know what you found?”
Instead, the authorities were more concerned with where the cooler had been discovered and whether or not they had talked to anyone on the ground about it. Anyone outside their aircrew. Even later, when the four of them went out for drinks and hot dogs, they stayed away from the topic. Or at least, Liz thought they had. When was it that Tommy Ellis had slipped and told her dad? Had Ellis told anyone else?
She suspected that the deputy director of Homeland Security and the FBI agent would ask more pointed questions. Ones that couldn’t be evaded as easily. Would they dare suspend them all with a hurricane coming?
Liz saw a sleek, black SUV loop around the parking lot, an Escalade with Louisiana license plates. It didn’t park though there were plenty of empty spaces in front of the building. Instead, it headed back onto Via De Luna Drive. She watched until it turned off into the Hilton Hotel.
They were here.
Her nerves tensed, and she wished she hadn’t had that second Red Bull.
CHAPTER 13
PENSACOLA BEACH
Liz Bailey downed her second Red Bull. She checked and rechecked the flight equipment then packed it back where it belonged. She had already gone over medical equipment piece by piece, even though they hadn’t used anything yesterday. She was bored, only it was worse, waiting and knowing, the calm before the storm. Staying alert while staying put and waiting.
In their briefing this morning they were told to prepare to be on emergency standby for the rest of the week. She could see the waves from her post, churning and bucking against the seawall. Surfers were out before she arrived. She knew they’d be here until authorities made them leave and closed the beach. And they’d grumble about leaving, their eyes glazed over with adrenaline. You just didn’t get waves like the ones that came right before a hurricane.
Several of the hotels had started encouraging guests to check out, but the beach was still packed with tourists. Other than the waves there was no indication of a storm, the sky still cloudless and blue, the sun baking the white sand. The last August days before vacations ended for another year. Why would anyone believe they needed to leave this paradise and go home early?
The rest of Liz’s aircrew were down the beach a mile at the heliport, crawling over their helicopter, doing their own preflight assessments, checks, and rechecks. She usually enjoyed the alone time. Today it added to her restlessness. They had been instructed to sit tight and wait. All they were told was that the deputy director of Homeland Security and an FBI investigator were on their way. It sounded like they would be taking over the case. Liz thought it a waste of time for them to be grilled all over again. What new questions could they ask? What more information could their aircrew provide?
She remembered what her dad had said about body parts and felt a bit sick to her stomach. How stupid could Tommy Ellis be? But then how stupid had all four of them been? Sure, Wilson prodded them to open the cooler, but Kesnick should never have gone any further once they realized what they had found. It was Kesnick who pulled out each piece. Except the large one, the one they agreed looked like a torso. The plastic had been wrapped tight but it yielded enough that they could see the parts had been sliced clean. No rips or tears. Whoever had done this knew exactly where to cut and had the tools to do an efficient job.