TWENTY-EIGHT

COUNTY DISPATCH RADIOED SHERIFF MCNEIL LATE SUNDAY AFTERNOON ABOUT A POSSIBLE FIRE NEAR KRANNERT AIRPORT. EMS and the fire department had already been notified and were en route. According to the dispatcher, the person reporting didn’t see the fire but saw smoke billowing from the area. While Mac was talking to the dispatcher, he could hear several other calls coming in that the airport was indeed on fire. Mac interrupted the dispatcher and instructed her to immediately notify the county coroner in case there were any bodies that would need to be recovered. He also gave orders to notify the owner-operators of Krannert Airport, Dr. Brad Rivers and Eric Wilkerson, that their business was on fire.

Mac was pulling into his driveway as he finished talking with the dispatcher. The one thing he hated more than getting a call for a domestic was getting called out to investigate a fire. He wasn’t looking forward to going back to work, let alone driving to the airport. If he was going to have to go inside the building after the fire department extinguished the blaze, he wanted his waders. Sitting in his driveway, he remembered the waders were at the police department hanging from his coatrack. Slapping the steering wheel in frustration, he backed the car out of the drive and headed back to the station.

The main hangar was still smoldering when he pulled onto the airstrip. The hangar had burned almost to the ground, but at least the fire was out. Getting out of the police cruiser, he scanned the growing crowd, apparently looking for Brad or Eric. Not seeing either of them, he made his way to the entrance of the hangar where the coroner was standing. “Ryan, you actually made it to a scene before me,” Mac said to his friend.

Ryan nodded and pointed to the hangar. “I can see a few planes in there. One looks like there could be something in it, but honestly, it could just be the way the plane burned. Maybe the pilot’s seat fell forward during the fire. It’s still too hot to go inside, and until the building inspector says it’s safe, I am happy to speculate out here!”

“That’s fine,” Mac said as he scanned the ruins. “I can see the planes, but I don’t see what you see. It just looks like a burnt plane to me. When it’s safe to go in, wait for me and I’ll go in with you. Never know if this mess is going to be a crime scene.”

Mac walked over to where his deputies were hanging out. “Guys!” he shouted, waving his arms to get their attention. “I don’t see any cameras out. You think you can take some pictures while you are standing there?” Mac gestured toward the hangar as he approached. He looked back at the ruins; from where he stood one aircraft did look like something was inside. “Insurance is going to want pictures, and the feds are going to be all over this mess.” Mac scanned the crowd again and yelled back at his deputies, “Hey, anyone know if the owners were contacted?” Getting no answer, he threw his hands up in frustration and started pacing in front of the hangar. He turned around toward the entrance of the airport just in time to see a black BMW racing toward the hangar. He knew the car was either Brad’s or Eric’s, as both drove the same car.

The BMW screeched to a stop behind one of the police cars; Eric Wilkerson jumped out of the car and ran up to Mac. “What happened? My God, was anyone hurt? I keep trying to call Brad, but I can’t reach him!” Eric frantically ran back and forth in front of the building, trying to look inside.

Mac stopped him by reaching out and grabbing his arm. “OK, look, Eric, we can reach him later. Right now, I need you to focus. Was there anyone scheduled to be here today, or anyone that you know could be inside? Anyone who is usually here on a Sunday afternoon?” Mac shook Eric by both shoulders. “Eric, look at me! You need to focus, OK? Is there a schedule? Is there anyone other than Brad you can call to check on the pilots who rented space from you?”

Eric slowly responded, “Uh, let me think, yeah, that’s a good idea. I think I have everyone’s numbers. I can make some calls. But no, I don’t think anyone was scheduled to be here, and we don’t keep a calendar or a schedule for the pilots and mechanics. I would have no way of knowing. I mean, the pilots don’t schedule their time. If they want to do maintenance, they just use their key and do their thing. They would only schedule a flight plan if they were planning to go anywhere. Otherwise, we don’t keep track of anyone. I don’t see any cars in the lot, either.”

The fire inspector and building inspector approached Mac as Eric was looking up the numbers of the other pilots and staff. “Sheriff, you can go inside. The structure is secure, and the power has been turned off to the hangar. All the wires you see down are dead. Just don’t trip over them.”

“Inspector, the cause of the fire? Do you think this was an accident or arson?” Mac asked.

“This fire is definitely arson. There is a distinctive burn pattern around one of the planes, and a hot spot. If there hadn’t been an accelerant, the fire couldn’t have advanced as far as it did. There is evidence the fire started at that plane. Unfortunately, it looks like there is at least one victim,” explained the fire investigator. He spoke with a flat, absent tone, as though he were reciting a piece of old news.

Eric stood frozen in his tracks. “Arson?” he stammered. “How—arson—are you sure?”