Paper Wings
Page 25
“No. No one has been hurt. When I first saw it, the entire house was engulfed from within. Black smoke everywhere.” Diane paused for a moment. Hart could hear the metallic clack of a screen door opening. His neighbor must have stepped outside to further survey the scene. “It looks the fire has penetrated the roof line over your kitchen.”
The red and white traffic gates briefly formed an arch as they rose and separated to opposite sides of the road. The cars ahead of Hart began to move toward the grated surface of the lowered drawbridge. He shook his head and took his foot off the brake pedal. Hart unconsciously tightened his grip on the steering wheel as his truck rolled forward.
“Shit! That bastard!” Hart muttered through his teeth. He slapped the dashboard with the heel of his palm. “That creepy Middle Eastern guy or his associates had to be involved,” Hart thought.
“Excuse me?” his elderly neighbor asked.
“Sorry, Diane. I was expressing my frustration out loud. It wasn’t directed at you.”
“I understand, Hart. This is awful.”
“Thanks for the call, Diane. I’m just crossing the Hillsboro Bridge. Be there shortly.”
Hart ended the conversation abruptly. As he crossed over the inlet, he glanced up in the direction of his street. An ominous charcoal gray cloud billowed from above the shimmering green of the palm trees. The cloud formed a cluster of enormous cauliflower shapes. Hart pressed down on the gas pedal.
10:35 EDT
The click of the deadbolt was followed by the rotation of the bronze doorknob. The white door opened a small crack, restricted by the dangling chain from the inside latch. One eye, pink lips, and the sharp chin of Tracey Abbott’s face was all Alvarez could identify of the high school vice principal. The pupil widened as she began to blink in recognition of the detective.
“Ms. Abbott, may I come in?” Alvarez asked with a forced smile.
The vice principal’s eye scanned the detective. She said, “Have you come to tell me they found our girls? Thanks, I already know. It’s all over the news. I can’t tell you how elated I am!”
“No, Ms. Abbott. I have some additional questions. May I come in, please?”
“Can it wait? I’m expecting company and haven’t even showered.”
“Your assistance would really be appreciated,” Alvarez said with a hint of impatience.
As Tracey Abbott shifted her weight to the opposite foot, the other eye became visible. The eye scanned above Alvarez’s shoulder to the outside. From behind, Alvarez heard the quiet hiss of tires rolling across pavement. He turned.
A black Mercedes was gliding through the condo parking lot. The car slowed for a brief moment and then accelerated, exiting in a blur. Alvarez’s reflexes weren’t quite fast enough to glimpse the entire Florida license plate before the sedan disappeared from view.
“Damn it!” Alvarez exclaimed. He turned back toward the vice principal and the open door. “Ms. Abbott, I suppose that was the company you were expecting!?”
The eye blinked and looked away. The lips drew tight. Tracey Abbott remained silent.
Alvarez shook his head, making no attempt at hiding his disgust. He reached into a pocket and yanked out his cell phone. His finger tapped the display. Alvarez put the phone to his ear and glared at the face in the crack of the door.
After a short delay, Alvarez said, “Tom, need your assistance now. Find a late model, E-class Mercedes. Maybe 2016. Maybe 2017. I can never figure out the year of this luxury stuff. Can’t afford the snotty-looking things anyhow. I wasn’t fast enough to get the whole plate, but the last numbers are 8-7. Sorry, I’m not much help.”
Alvarez stared at Tracey Abbott and continued talking with the patrol cop. “There’s a good chance that it’s the car in the high school security footage.” The detective nodded, the phone pressed hard against his ear. “You’re a prince, Tom. Thanks.” He tapped a finger to the display and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
“I suggest that you open the door, Ms. Abbott. If you cooperate now, it may not get ugly later,” Alvarez said with a stern, matter-of-fact tone.
After a few moments of hesitation, the crack of open door disappeared. The chain clacked across the latch and the door opened. The detective nodded and stepped across the weathered, wooden threshold. The vice principal stepped back, allowed the big man to pass, and waved a hand at a black leather couch. Alvarez sat, the material creasing and crunching under his weight.
With her Miami Dolphins T-shirt flopped loosely over a pair of white gym shorts, Tracey Abbott slithered reluctantly onto the opposite end of the couch. She curled her knees into her chest and hugged her legs together.
Before Alvarez could speak, a thirty-something woman with flowing brown hair, jaguar eyes, and red toenails glided across the tile floor. Hands on her hips, her slender bare arms exposed, the woman shifted her gaze rapidly between Alvarez and Tracey Abbott.
“Who might this be?” the woman asked with a Hispanic accent. She focused on Alvarez without looking at Tracey Abbott.
“He’s a detective, Sondra,” Tracey said.
“I do not like detectives,” Sondra said, flipping a lock of hair away from her cheek.
Grinning, Alvarez introduced himself and said, “It’s okay. There are some detectives I don’t like either.”
Sondra snorted. “What do you want with my Tracey?”
“I need her help with a case.”
“Do you mean the girls that were kidnapped from school?” Sondra asked, her eyebrows arched in a perfect V.
“Yes.” Alvarez said, looking at the caramel-skinned woman with the lanky legs. “Do you know anything about the case?”
“Only what Tracey has told me.” Sondra gestured at the blank TV screen in front of the couch. “The Wolf with the gray beard on CNN said the two sisters escaped in a yacht. They are okay, yes?”
Alvarez nodded, chuckling to himself at the CNN reference, and said, “Yes, they are mostly okay. But there is more to the story.”
“Like, what more?” Sondra asked in a challenging tone. She plopped down onto the arm of the couch next to Tracey.
“I could tell you, but Ms. Abbott indicated that you are expecting company.” Alvarez glanced at Tracey. The vice principal squirmed. “I don’t want to interrupt your plans.”
“Company?” Sondra asked, gazing at Tracey. Tracey looked away. “Oh…you mean the thin man with the bad teeth and the strange accent who doesn’t shave much?”
“Does he drive a Mercedes, Sondra?”
“Yes, very nice. Always clean and shiny.”
“How often does he come to visit?”
“He not my friend. He’s Tracey’s friend from the high school. He only come here once or twice before.”
“Do you enjoy his visits?” Alvarez asked with a smile.
“Visits? He stay for barely a minute. He gives Tracey an envelope and leaves.”
“What’s in the envelope?”
“Money.”
“Money? Really?” Alvarez asked, raising an eyebrow and feigning curiosity.
“Si. Usually hundred-dollar bills. Sometimes twenties. The money goes to a charity for homeless people that is collected from the students and teachers every week.” Sondra smiled and patted the vice principal on the shoulder. Tracey looked down and subtly shook her head. “My Tracey is in charge of the charity. The Mercedes man is the school bookkeeper. He counts the money and gives it to her. She dis-tra-bute directly to homeless shelters.”
“That’s very admirable,” Alvarez said with a wry smile. “How long have you and Ms. Abbott lived together, Sondra?”
“Well, I move here from Nicaragua more than two years ago. So…dos…two years.”
“Are you ladies married?”
Sondra presented a wide smile with glittering white teeth. She stroked the back of Tracey Abbott’s hair and said gleefully, “Si. The day it became legal in Floor-ee-da, we were second in line at the courthouse!”
“Very nice. Congratulatio
ns.”
“Gracias,” Sondra said with an assertive nod.
Glancing at the vice principal and then clearing his throat, Alvarez asked, “Are you also friends with Robin Townsend?”
“Who?”
“You may have heard the name on the news. Her daughters are the girls that were abducted at Ms. Abbott’s school.”
Sondra’s eyebrows raised. She replied, “No. Why would I know her?”
The detective looked at the vice principal with narrowed eyes. Tracey Abbott’s pupils widened. Alvarez grinned and said, “No reason. Just covering all my bases.” Tracey’s expression softened with relief.
Turning her head to look at the slinky brunette, Tracey said, “Sondra, the detective and I have more to discuss. You were a big help. Didn’t you have some groceries to pick up?”
“Si. I did. I go now if you’re okay.” Sondra slid off the arm of the couch and pointed at Alvarez. “He’s not so bad.”
Alvarez smiled.
With a flourish, Sondra swooped up the sequined straps of a purse that had been lying on a coffee table. She positioned the straps on one shoulder, slid into a pair of leather flip-flops, and reached for the doorknob while blowing a kiss to Tracey. Sondra glided out the door, thwacking it closed behind her.
Staring at the closed door, Alvarez said, “I pictured you with a more mature model, Ms. Abbott, but she certainly is beautiful.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Homeless charity? Very special. Nothing like a little subterfuge to keep the relationship strong.” The detective turned to face the vice principal. His expression grew stern.
Tracey Abbott glared, her face a mixture of anxiety and anger. “There is no need for sarcasm, Detective. I’ll tell you a very simple story.”
Beckoning with the wave of his fingers from an open palm, Alvarez motioned for the vice principal to speak.
“In various ways, I was solicited by the man driving the Mercedes.” Tracey sighed. Sondra was not a legal resident of the U.S. In addition, lesbians are not exactly embraced by the local school board. This man…” She gestured her head outside toward the parking lot. “I think he’s of Middle Eastern descent, but I’m not sure…he threatened to expose both of these details unless I cooperated with his requests. Without getting into details, he demonstrated his resolve through different methods.
“As an example, he stuffed my mailbox with samples of potentially damaging letters addressed to key players on the school board and local politicians…pleasant stuff like that. He would periodically remind me with such things. As long as I complied with his requests, I would receive cash payments that normally amounted to around $1,000.”
“Go on, Ms. Abbott,” Alvarez said.
“Despite the rumors, school administrators aren’t exactly on top of the food chain with salaries. And the money helped with attorney fees to expedite Sondra’s citizenship status.”
“Cops aren’t on top of the food chain either, Ms. Abbott, but accepting bribes isn’t exactly a good career move in the department.”
“Call it a bribe if you wish, Detective, but my situation was more of an extortion.”
“We can argue over semantics later. But you could have notified the police, Ms. Abbott. Please continue.”
Taking a deep breath, Tracey said. “Calling the police wasn’t an option. He threatened me with the same scenario of revealing my dirty, little secrets. And judging by the fact the creep seemed to know the brand of granola that I had for breakfast in the morning, I had no reason to doubt his convictions.”
“I’ll take that statement into consideration,” Alvarez said with a stone-faced expression.
“I was asked to develop a relationship with Robin Townsend. It was easy. Her oldest daughter is challenging, oftentimes a disciplinary problem. For that reason, Robin was a frequent visitor to my office. My extortionist was probably aware of that fact. I was told to pass on any pertinent information concerning the Townsend sisters, Robin, and especially the airline pilot husband.”
“Were you told why?” Alvarez asked.
“Really, Detective? You have to ask that question? No, I was never given an explanation.” The vice principal shook her head. “When the situation developed in Bermuda regarding the accident flight with their father, I was asked to isolate the sisters immediately and then move them outside. Knowing that Robin was on her way to pick up the girls, I wasn’t especially concerned. As per school policy, I had the girls escorted to the parking lot by our security officer. I stayed in the shadows, but had no idea of the consequences.”
“Seriously, Ms. Abbott, you don’t consider yourself complicit in the abduction? You accepted a payment on the day of the incident.”
“How do you think I’ve felt over the last several hours, Detective Alvarez?”
“I’m not really sure, Ms. Abbott.”
The vice principal shook her head and closed her eyes. She said, “That’s the story, Detective Alvarez.”
“I think you’re missing one detail.”
“I’ve told you everything.”
“No. Not exactly,” Alvarez stated. “Why did you make at least two visits to a residence on Bayview Drive?”
Tracey Abbott looked up at the ceiling and then back at the detective. She sighed and said, “It was the residence of my extortionist. With the Townsend sisters abducted and the security guard murdered, I wanted out. I fulfilled my obligations.”
“Your motivation couldn’t have possibly been a final payment, perhaps?” Alvarez asked with a sneer.
Folding her arms across her chest, Tracey Abbott said nothing.
“I hope your conscience makes your life miserable,” Alvarez said at a low volume level.
“Comment all you want, Detective, but don’t judge me until you’ve walked in my shoes.”
“This might sound cliché but it’s not my job to judge, Ms. Abbott. I’ll leave that up to a jury.”
“Are you arresting me?”
Alvarez smiled and said, “Not at the moment, but I suggest you don’t stray too far from the neighborhood.” The detective planted his hands into the plush couch and pushed himself to his feet. “We’ll be in touch, Ms. Abbott.” He took a few steps toward the door. “Thank you for the visit.” Alvarez twisted the doorknob and walked out of the condo.
11:05 EDT
The sky outside Rod’s office window had become the color of charcoal. Within the charcoal, a shade of mucus green blended itself in. The scene had an ominous quality. Clouds roiled above. Streaks of jagged orange crisscrossed the clouds, the lightning not quite ready to strike the ground. Just as predicted by the airline’s weather experts, an evil line of thunderstorms produced by a well-defined cold front was about to strike MIA.
Sadly, Mother Nature’s disruptive scene was a welcome distraction to the discussion that was taking place in his office. A flight attendant supervisor, a flight attendant, a flight attendant union rep, and a pilots union rep were arguing the merits of a decision made by a Miami-based captain just prior to a particular evening’s 777 departure to Buenos Aires.
Twirling a lock of her blond hair, the flight attendant growled, “The captain said that it was his airplane!”
“Well, technically, Ms. Kozinski, he is the pilot in command,” Rod said. “You’ve been flying long enough to know that it’s a colloquial expression, meaning he is in charge. Despite USA Today’s rumors that we pay captains a million dollars a year, I am certain he had no illusions of ownership regarding a $250 million airplane.”
The pilots union rep seemed to be clearing his throat, but Rod wasn’t quite certain the sound from the man’s throat hadn’t just been an attempt at disguising a chuckle. The union rep also appeared to be fighting a smile. Rod peered at the man over the top of his glasses.
“Captain Moretti, do you honestly believe that your pilot in command has jurisdiction over the distribution of bottled water?” the flight attendant supervisor asked.
“The short answer is, yes,” Rod replied. “Look…”
Rod nodded.
The union rep continued. “It was a reasonable request for the captain to make. If you’ve been following the news lately, Argentina has been dealing with occasional contaminated water supplies. He simply wanted Ms. Kozinski, the purser, to be certain that his crew would have bottled water for the layover.”
“Despite the short supply on board? Our customers are the number one priority,” the flight attendant supervisor said, crossing her arms.
The pilots union rep responded. “Our customers won’t be able to fly if our pilots become ill.”
“So, the solution was to remove our purser from the trip?”
“It was the captain’s prerogative based on insubordination,” the pilots union rep said in a matter-of-fact-tone.
“Insubordination? Really? Over bottled water?”
Rod raised his hands in traffic cop fashion and said, “All right. All right.” He looked directly at the flight attendants union rep. “Your purser was still paid for the trip, correct?”
“Yes, but this is not a precedent we care to establish.”
“I don’t consider the matter a precedent, but certainly the captain could have exercised a few more drops of diplomacy,” Rod said. He glanced at the pilots union rep and then looked back at the flight attendant supervisor. “Although our pilots union representative is not under any obligation, I am certain that as a professional standards committee member, he can discuss options with our captain that involve more tactful measures in the future.”
The flight attendant slid forward in her chair and began to open her mouth. Her expression held an appearance of protest. Rod held up an index finger. “Trust me. This is an amicable compromise. I reviewed your file, Ms. Kozinski. You seem to have a history of confrontation with the cockpit.”
Darts of rain began to assault the glass of the office window. Outside, invisible currents of air began to strike at newly formed puddles on the ramp. A handful of unsecured baggage pallets began to creep across the white concrete.