Part 38 (1/2)

When Diane's plane landed at Denver International Airport, she took a taxi to the hotel. She walked up to the front desk and spoke to the clerk.

'Oh, yes. Mrs. Stowe is expecting you. She's in room 638.'

It was a relief to hear.

Kelly was waiting. The two of them exchanged a warm hug.

'I've missed you.'

'I've missed you. How was your trip?' Kelly asked. 'Uneventful. Thank G.o.d.'

Diane looked at her and said, 'What happened to you in Paris?' Kelly took a deep breath. 'Tanner Kingsley. What happened in Berlin?'

Diane said tonelessly, 'Tanner Kingsley.'

Kelly walked over to a table, picked up a telephone directory, and brought it back to Diane. 'Gary's sister, Lois Reynolds, is listed in the telephone book. She lives on Marion Street.'

'Good.' Diane looked at her watch. 'It's too late to do anything tonight. We'll go there first thing in the morning.'

They had dinner in the room and talked until midnight, then got ready for bed.

Diane said, 'Good night,' and reached for the light switch. The bedroom was plunged into darkness.

Kelly screamed. 'No! Turn on the lights.'

Diane quickly turned them back on. 'I'm so sorry, Kelly. I forgot.'

'I used to be afraid of the dark, until Mark. And after he was killed . . .' Kelly began hyperventilating, fighting to control her panic. She took a deep breath. 'I wish I could get over this.'

'Don't worry about it. When you're feeling very secure, you will.'

The following morning, when Diane and Kelly walked out of the hotel, there was a line of taxis in front of the entrance. The two women got into one, and Kelly gave the driver the number of Lois Reynolds's house on Marion Street.

Fifteen minutes later, the driver pulled up to the curb. 'Here we are.'

Kelly and Diane stared out the window, aghast. They were looking at the charred rubble of a house that had burned to the ground. There was nothing left but ashes, bits of burned wood, and a crumbled concrete foundation.

'The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds killed her,' Kelly said. She looked at Diane despairingly. 'This is the end of the road.'

Diane was thinking. There's one last chance.

Ray Fowler, the acerbic manager of the Denver airport, scowled at Kelly and Diane. 'Let's see if I have this straight. You two are investigating a plane crash, without any authority, and you want me to arrange for you to question the air traffic controller who was on duty, so he can give you some privileged information? Do I have that right?'

Diane and Kelly glanced at each other.

Kelly said, 'Well, we were hoping-'

'You were hoping what?'

'That you would help us.'

'Why would I do that?'

'Mr. Fowler, we just want to make sure that what happened to Gary Reynolds really was an accident.'

Ray Fowler was studying them closely. 'It's interesting,' he said. He sat there, bemused, and then spoke. 'This has been on my mind a lot. Maybe you should discuss this with Howard Miller. He was the air traffic controller on duty when the accident happened. Here's his address. I'll call him and tell him you're coming over.'

'Thank you. That's very kind of you,' Diane said.

Ray Fowler growled, 'The only reason I'm doing this is because I think the FAA crash report is bulls.h.i.+t. We found the remains of the plane, but interestingly enough, the black box was missing. It just disappeared.'

Howard Miller lived in a small stucco house six miles from the airport. Miller was a small, energetic man in his forties. He opened the door for Diane and Kelly. 'Come in. Ray Fowler told me you were coming. What is it I can do for you?'

'We'd like to talk to you, Mr. Miller.'

'Sit down.' They sat on the couch. 'Like some coffee?'

'No, thanks.'

'You're here about the Gary Reynolds crash.'

'Yes. Was it an accident or-?'

Howard Miller shrugged. 'I honestly don't know. I've never experienced anything like it in all the years I've been working here. Everything was going according to protocol. Gary Reynolds radioed for permission to land, and we cleared him. The next thing I know, he was only two miles away, reporting a hurricane. A hurricane! Our weather monitors were clear. Later, I checked with the weather bureau. There was no wind at that time. To tell you the truth, I thought he was drunk or on drugs. The next thing we all knew, he crashed into the side of a mountain.'

Kelly said, 'I understand that the black box hasn't been found.'

'That's another thing,' Howard Miller commented thoughtfully. 'We found everything else. What happened to the black box? The d.a.m.ned FAA came in and thought we had our records wrong. They didn't believe us when we told them what had happened. You know when you can feel something is not right?'

'Yes.'

'I feel that something is not right, but I can't tell you what. I am sorry I can't be of more help.'

Diane and Kelly rose, frustrated. 'Well, thank you very much, Mr. Miller. We appreciate your time.'

'Not at all.'

As Miller started to lead the two women toward the door, he said, 'I hope Gary's sister will be all right.'

Kelly stopped. 'What?'

'She's in the hospital, you know. Poor thing. Her house burned down in the middle of the night. They don't know if she's going to make it or not.'