Curveball

by Teresa Michaels

  I watch a doctor suture Drew’s head wound from where he face planted. Between that injury and the one caused from when he was punched he needs 14 stitches. My head wound has already started to heal. They tell me that I should have received stitches but at this point it’s too late. They also let me know that there is a high probability that I’ll have a sizeable scar. I haven’t looked in a mirror over the past few days but I’m sure I’ll be able to feel blessed when I look at it, no matter how hideous it ends up being.

  By the time Drew’s stiches are completed and his mid-section wrapped, I have been fully treated – ice for my bruised cheek and bandages for my blistered feet. I definitely received a concussion during the crash, but there really isn’t much they can do about it. Patching Drew up, however, takes significantly more time.

  While they are unable to confirm whether or not a rattlesnake bit Drew based on the fang mark, they draw blood to test for venom. The doctors tell Drew that they’ll need to send it off for testing but at this point there isn’t much they can do even if it was venom. If there is nerve damage it’s irreversible. The bottom line is that if a rattlesnake did bite him he’s lucky to be alive.

  Once our examinations are complete Patterson returns.

  “Mr. Scott, I’m going to have you join me and Agent Aarons for the ride back to Boston. Ms. Sullivan, you will give your statement to Agents Lewis and Jackson,” Patterson explains while jotting something down with a stylus in his tablet.

  My heart is racing with anxiety. I feel sick! Oh my God, I am not ready to be separated yet! I must be hyperventilating as the room is spinning and I can’t seem to catch my breath. Bending over, I place my hands on my knees and close my eyes. Before I know it, Drew is pulling me upright by my shoulders and holding me firmly against his chest.

  “Agent Patterson, there is no way you’re splitting us up,” Drew tells him.

  “What’s the problem?” Patterson asks brusquely.

  “Are you kidding me? The problem?” Drew gaffs. “I know you don’t have our statements yet but I think it’s pretty obvious what the problem is.”

  “Mr. Scott it’s standard procedure to get statements individually. You and Ms. Sullivan will be interviewed on the drive back. It will take the majority of the ride as it is. If we did a joint statement it would take longer and it could compromise the integrity of our process,” he explains.

  “I don’t give a shit if interviewing us together takes twice as long; we’re going in the same car,” Drew proclaims as he takes my hand and steps forward.

  “Perhaps it would be best if Ms. Sullivan could speak with Dr. Clarence before we leave. Maybe that would make her feel better about being interviewed separately,” suggests Agent Jackson.

  “Who is Dr. Clarence?” I ask, finding my voice.

  Agent Jackson turns to me. “Dr. Clarence specializes in Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD as it’s commonly referred to. If you are feeling unsettled about the trip home he might be able to give you a mild sedative.”

  “You’re not sedating me,” I tell Agent Jackson. “If you even knew half of what we’ve been through you wouldn’t be putting up such a fight.” I turn my attention back to Agent Patterson. “Either you take us back together or we’ll find our own transportation home.”

  I have no idea if what I’m saying is even relevant. We aren’t criminals so I’d think we can choose whether we go with them or not, but then again, this is the FBI. Agent Patterson looks at his team deep in thought.

  “Give us a minute to discuss this,” he says and they exit the boxcar.

  About ten minutes later Agents Patterson and Aarons return – both of them looking agitated. “It goes against protocol but we’ll allow both of you to ride in the same vehicle and to be interviewed together,” Patterson informs us. He gestures for us to follow Agent Aarons and we all walk to the mini-bus. Overhead the one FBI helicopter and additional media helicopters continue to hover.

  We get inside our ride and settle in. It feels so good to be sitting on something comfortable. Better yet, there is heat!

  “We figured you might be hungry,” Agent Aarons says, handing us each a Styrofoam box containing a deli sandwich, chips and an apple.

  “Thank you,” I say, and take a bite of the sandwich. In truth, I have no appetite but I don’t want to be rude.

  “Drew, I’d like to start with you,” Agent Patterson says.

  “Ok, where do you want me to begin?” he asks.

  “Why don’t we start with the two of you,” Agent Patterson suggests. Drew looks at me confused and then back to Patterson.

  “What do you mean?” Drew asks for clarification.

  “When did your relationship begin?” he asks. Drew and I share a sideways glance.

  “We met two days ago for the first time.” I’m sure to an outsider it would appear that we’ve known each other much longer. It feels much longer. We are obviously comfortable with each other, but could anyone expect something different after everything we’ve been through. Even though things are in a bit of a weird spot because of this morning, we obviously care about each other.

  “Describe how you met.”

  “We were seated next to each other on the plane. Our first interaction was when Breanne stole my seat,” he states, trying to stifle his grin. Patterson watches us intently for a moment. When he’s either satisfied or uninterested he moves on.

  “Walk us through what happened starting with the morning you got on the plane,” Patterson instructs.

  “OK. Let’s see, I was running late and almost missed the flight. I got held up doing some PR for the airline and there were several questions about my career. Anyway, I barely made it. At first it was fine, but about two hours into the flight we ran into some rough turbulence. The pilot told passengers to buckle up and then we started losing altitude. Soon after that the oxygen masks deployed,” Drew pauses for several seconds. “We were lucky – Breanne’s mask was tangled with mine and while we tried to get them free she noticed that the other passengers were dropping like flies,” Drew pauses and reaches for my hand.

  “They were dead?” he asks for clarity.

  “Yes.”

  “Continue,” Agent Patterson prompts.

  “The plane landed. It was a bumpy landing. A laptop or something fell from an overhead compartment and hit Breanne in the head, knocking her out. The pilot came out of the cockpit and basically made a run for it. He was carrying a briefcase and he made eye contact with me but didn’t say anything; he just took off,” Drew shudders. “And then he got shot.”

  “Did you witness him being shot?”

  “I only heard that gun fire. When I looked he was falling to the ground. It was after that that I noticed the ATV and gunmen.”

  “How many gunmen were there?” asks Agent Patterson.

  “Two,” Drew responds.

  Drew goes on to describe seeing the flight attendant and two passengers being shot and gives a detailed account of the conversation he heard when the gunmen first entered the plane, being sure to state the names of both Major Arnold and Sargent Dosdell. I cringe as he recounts the bodies being dragged back onto the plane and over his body while the other gunman drilled. When he describes the men pouring gasoline over everything I cringe.

  “Can you describe for us again the part about the drill sounds?” asks Agent Aarons.

  “It was strange. All I could tell was that it was coming from the back of the plane. From their conversation I gathered that they took something out and replaced it with something else.”

  “Ms. Sullivan, at what point did you regain consciousness?” Agent Patterson asks.

  “When the cockpit was on fire.”

  “Did you see the gunmen?”

  “No, they were gone by then.” I’m so glad I was unconscious.

  “Describe what you remember.”

  “We both grabbed a few things. I mean, we were in the middle of the woods and we had no idea how long it was going to take us to find hel
p so we just threw snacks and drinks and a blanket in my purse and took off.”

  “Those are very rational actions given the trauma you had been through,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Excuse me? What…did I do something wrong?” I ask. Why do I feel like I’m on trial?

  “Just an observation. Please continue.”

  “Well once we made it to the woods we ran. After a while we heard an explosion and assumed it was the plane. At some point I fell and passed out from the concussion,” I tell him.

  “How long were you in the woods? And was anyone pursuing you?”

  “Two days and two nights, and I don’t know if they followed us in the woods.” Honestly, if they did the math they could figure some of the semantics out on their own.

  “Where did you sleep?” Agent Aarons inquires.

  “The first night we stayed in a tree house that we think was used for hunting, and the second night we stayed in a barn.”

  The thought of the barn sidetracks me and I find myself visualizing Drew holding himself over me with his shirt off. The mental image is enough to cause my stomach muscles to tighten. God, I wanted him bad. I still want him really bad – but he rejected me. And besides the attraction between us, I don’t know what I want. Does it even matter? My life is far too complicated. He’s young and non-committal. Once we get home life will go back to the way it was before me met. At least I’ll have the memory, which may or may not be a good thing.

  “Ms. Sullivan?”

  “Huh? Can you repeat the question?” I ask, my face turning crimson.

  “We’ll give you a break,” says Agent Patterson as he turns his attention back to Drew, who describes the two places we stayed in detail, his encounter with the snake and the car dealership.

  “At what point did you realize you were in danger?” Agent Aarons asks Drew.

  “When weren’t we in danger?” he asks, getting no response. “You mean after the crash?” and he gets a nod. “When we read the cover story of the newspaper that detailed our deaths which had already been confirmed by DNA. And then again inside the dealership when we heard the owner talking on the phone, letting them know we were there. He told us two guys had come by looking for us and instructed him to call if we showed up. Once we found out people were on their way for us it was clear that whoever took down the plane knew we were alive and intended to kill us. The owner of the car dealership gave us one of his cars and we headed for the highway.”

  “And Carl just gave you a car?” asks Agent Patterson.

  “Yes. We offered to help him and he told us to just go, that we didn’t have much time,” Drew confirms. Agents Patterson and Aarons exchange a curious glance and ask Drew to proceed.

  “Once we got to the highway we finally got a signal. Breanne tried to call her family but they weren’t home so we decided to reach out to an investigator Breanne had been working with for help,” he explains.

  Patterson and Aarons let us continue with our account of today’s events. At the mention of the safe house I flinch, regretting that I didn’t listen when Drew questioned whether or not it was a good idea. Living through the trauma of Drew’s beating was hard enough. Listening to him recount the situation from his perspective is soul crushing. It doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone in the car that every injury he sustained was directly correlated to an attempt to protect me. This is what I’m hung up on when the focus turns back to Dosdell.

  “His name is Sargent Dosdell. He reached out to me about my husband’s death a few months ago. He said he was new to the Boston City Police Department and had come across my husband’s file and was convinced it wasn’t a suicide.”

  “Do you have his contact information?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I take out my phone and read him the number. Agent Patterson flips back through his notes.

  “Isn’t Dosdell one of the names you heard the gunmen mention?” he asks of Drew.

  “Yes,” he admits. Patterson instructs Agent Aarons to call Boston PD and get in touch with Sargent Dosdell.

  “Why did you decide to call Sargent Dosdell?”

  “Because he was an officer who I thought I could trust. I was scared. I feared for my family’s safety and didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Tell me again how you know Sargent Dosdell?”

  “He contacted me about my husband’s apparent suicide that he believes was a homicide. He came to my house a few times and interviewed me and looked through my husband’s things.”

  Agent Patterson’s brows furrow and I sense he’s questioning what I did.

  “Look he showed up with information, offering to help. He was in uniform. He showed me identification just like you did when we met you. I know my husband didn’t commit suicide,” I say in a high-pitched voice.

  “What did your husband do for a living, Ms. Sullivan?”

  “He worked at a venture capital firm.”

  “Did he have any enemies?”

  “Not that I know of, but apparently I’ve missed something.” Drew rubs my shoulder. I know I’m being short with Agent Patterson but his tone is getting under my skin.

  “Why do you think he was murdered?” he asks.

  “He had no reason to kill himself. We have three wonderful children. Our finances were set. We were happy in our marriage. The list goes on. I knew my husband well, and committing suicide isn’t something that he would have done. If he had a problem, like depression, he would have talked to me. Besides, a year after he died I received this necklace and a box that was engraved. It was from him. I believe he knew something was going on but didn’t tell me to keep our family safe.”

  “Do you still have the engraved box?” I nod and pull it out of the bag. Agent Patterson examines it and tells me he needs to catalogue it as evidence. He also asks for my necklace. He insists they will be returned to me in the near future. Hesitantly, I hand them over.

  “Is there any connection between your husband and the airline?”

  “Yes,” I tell him, hesitantly. “But it has nothing to do with what happened.”

  “What’s the connection?” he asks impatiently.

  “Before he died he was working on a deal to provide financial backing to the software company that was eventually bought out by the airline. He told me that the company selected another firm.” Agent Patterson stares at me blankly for a beat.

  “What made you chose to fly Innovation Airways?” he asks.

  “It wasn’t my choice. I was booked on another flight and didn’t even know my flight changed until I almost missed the plane.” I explain.

  “And who made the change?” he asks.

  “My assistant, I guess. Why?” He ignores my question and again focuses on Drew.

  “Do you have any connections to the airline Mr. Scott aside from your endorsement?”

  “Sort of, I got my sister a job there,” he tells him.

  “What did she do for the airline?”

  “IT security,” he tells them.

  He looks at Drew blankly. “Mr. Scott, how did you get the endorsement with Innovation Airways?”

  Drew shrugs. “Same way I get all my endorsement deals – through my agent.”

  Agent Patterson stares at Drew expressionless as the car pulls to a stop. Agent Aarons opens the back door and asks Patterson to join him for a moment.