Page 116 of Airborne
“Take it easy on your first day back.”
“I will. And thanks.”
If Thomas were the killer and viewed her as the enemy, how long would he keep up the charade? Her instincts told her he’d make a mistake, and it was up to her to lay slippery ground.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
HEATHER PARKEDin the front parking area of Mercy Community Church, a magnificent brick and stone building that spread over a huge campus. The cross seemed to touch heaven. Catherine had commented on the church’s size, and now Heather saw for herself.
She’d meet Tatum’s parents in the foyer so they could chat before the others arrived. She dreaded and looked forward to talking with the grieving people. The important thing was to help people find closure, and her experiences with their loved ones could help.
She walked to the designated area, her steps slow while she prayed for guidance. A tall man opened the door... Tatum had his eyes. But hers had sparkled and his were dim.
“My wife is waiting in my office,” he said. “We want to hear everything you can tell us about our daughter...”
Forty-five minutes later in the church’s chapel, Heather ended her experiences with the victims represented. She shared happy moments and courageous ones. Catherine tried to talk about Roy,but her emotions stopped the flow of words. Heather embraced her and told of Catherine’s role in comforting her and others during quarantine. Tatum’s father prayed, concluding with an invitation for them to share coffee, lunch, and conversation in the fellowship hall.
Heather felt the exhaustion in every inch of her body. Thomas’s urging for her to rest made sense if she had the time. She eased onto a folding chair and breathed in. People were making friends. They shared a bond, one that would never be forgotten.
A short woman approached her. “I’m Lynda Durgin. You look very tired, dear. Pregnant women need to take extra time to care for themselves.”
“I will soon.” Heather added a smile.
“Do you mind if I sit and chat?”
“Please do. You’re Kirk’s wife, right?”
“Yes. Thank you for befriending him.” She closed her eyes. “I’m remembering how thrilled he was to be invited to play in Salzburg. He spent hours rehearsing. Kirk used to say a violin was like a child. It could sing the sweetest love song, cry, or fill others with laughter.”
“I’m sorry I never heard him play.”
Lynda reached into her purse and handed Heather a CD. “I was hoping you’d say that. Here is his last recording.”
“Thank you.” Drat hormones were making her a weeping mess.
Lynda patted her arm. “This is a small token of my appreciation. If not for you, I wouldn’t have Kirk’s violin. God bless you.”
At the FBI office, Heather and Mitchell peered through the one-way glass at Jackson Powell, the twin who shared a resemblance to Thomas.
Mitchell’s drawn features showed he bore pressure on everylevel. “Take the lead on the interview. You know Thomas better than I do.”
No need to state they were getting nowhere in finding evidence. She opened the door and entered the room. After shaking Jackson’s hand and introductions made, the two agents sat across a table from him. The twin had the same gray eyes minus the sharp intensity. His facial structure was relaxed, a trait she’d rarely noted in Thomas.
“Thank you for coming to Houston,” she said. “After a few formalities, we can discuss your brother.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His British accent reflected the many years in London.
“Your full name is Jackson Wolfgang Powell.”
“Yes. My twin brother is Thomas Amadeus Powell.”
Jackson confirmed Thomas’s middle name. “A parent must have been a classical music enthusiast.”
“Our father.”
Thomas had said his grandfather had given him the middle name. “Our agent in London said you refused an interview concerning your brother. Then you volunteered to fly here. What changed your mind?”
He drew in a ragged breath. “I’m not sure where to begin. I made the decision after I read Thomas had been on a flight that had experienced the release of an unknown virus. Although he hadn’t been infected, he was in quarantine. Further online reading stated the flight was enroute to Frankfurt, Germany, at the same time as the Salzburg music festival. Our father played his final violin concert there, and I played in the orchestra accompanying him. I doubt the trip to Frankfurt was a coincidence. Thomas had threatened us in January of this year. I don’t suspect anything concerning the source of the virus, but I’m worried my brother’s purpose for taking the overseas trip is bound to his hatred for us.”
