Retribution
Page 6
Brad and Eric both craved adventure and excitement, and Krannert’s International Charter Service, with exclusive private clients, gave them a reason to leave and an excuse to play. Their initial clients were wealthy men who enjoyed private flights out of the country for vacations, quick flights for business, or an occasional private flight with a mistress. The charter service soon became very profitable, and both men were looking forward to the day they could leave their day-to-day jobs behind and only fly for select clients.
TWELVE
BRAD WOKE UP IN INTENSIVE CARE. The last thing he remembered was leaving the hotel with his family. He looked around the room and recognized the equipment. In the corner of the room next to the door, Eric was sleeping in a chair. Brad felt his chest and discovered he had leads attached for the cardiac monitor. He had an IV and a capped arterial line. He tried to find the call light, but he couldn’t reach it. Typical, he thought. Nurses always forget to give the patients the call lights. He tried to speak but wasn’t able to do much more than emit a weak cough. After what seemed like hours but was more like a few minutes, the nurse walked into the room.
“Dr. Rivers, glad to see you’re awake. I’m Kelly, your nurse today. Do you know where you are?”
Brad just looked at her, since he was too weak to speak.
“Dr. Rivers, you were in a plane accident. You were brought here from the accident site, which was right outside of Reagan, New Hampshire. You’re at St. Luke’s Hospital in Boston, in the ICU burn unit. The ICU doctor will be in here soon to speak with you.”
Brad tried to respond, his brain scrambling to put the pieces together. How did he get in a plane accident, and where was his family? Why didn’t she mention his family?
Within minutes a physician entered the room. “Brad, it’s good to see you awake. I am Dr. Shah, one of the ICU physicians.”
Brad listened to Dr. Shah tell him he had sustained second-degree burns to his right arm and the right side of his face and torso, and third-degree burns to his right hand. All the wounds would heal with only minimal scarring. Brad slowly began to understand that the plane he and his family were in had crash-landed on their way home from their annual holiday trip. Dr. Shah didn’t mention his family; just that there had been an accident.
Eric was standing next to the doctor, looking at the floor. Brad was afraid to ask, to even think about where his family was. His mind was racing; he was barely keeping up with what he was hearing. All he could think about was Rachel and the kids.
“So, Brad,” said Dr. Shah, “I think you can be transferred to the progressive care side of the burn unit. The physical therapists and the wound team will continue to manage the dressing changes, and if all goes well, you could be discharged in a few days.”
Dr. Shah finished a quick assessment of his dressings as he spoke and then hurriedly left the room. The nurse had already left. Brad found it odd that no one had asked if he was in pain.
Eric cleared his throat and began to softly explain what had happened. It seemed that on landing Brad had lost control of the plane and crashed into a field a few miles from Krannert. Given the rain and limited visibility, the National Transportation Safety Board’s initial assessment was instrument failure or pilot error. Brad’s wife, Rachel, and their sons had died on impact. Only one of the twin girls survived. She was in the pediatric unit with minor injuries. On impact the plane had ignited. Somehow Stephanie escaped without any burns. As he listened to Eric telling him how his family had died, how his beautiful wife had been burned beyond recognition, his sons and one daughter dead, Brad felt his perfect life crumbling.
“Brad, I am so sorry. I know this is a lot to digest, but I will be here to help you through this. Whatever you need, I am here,” said Eric. “We are friends and business partners, but I am also your attorney. Unfortunately, I have to advise you that you may want to seek different counsel. But if you don’t, and if you want me to remain your attorney, then we have to go over what happened. The sooner the better. I know this is early, but we have to deal with the NTSB. Your pilot’s license has already been suspended pending further investigation into the cause of the accident. As you know, this is standard. I will do whatever you want or need to clear this up, but the investigation could take several months. I have already submitted the plane’s maintenance records and safety logs, along with your flight records and physical. While the investigation is ongoing, you won’t be able to fly. It’s possible you could permanently lose your license, although you probably don’t want it back anyway. We can make arrangements if you want to either sell Krannert or sell the charter or simply close it down. We can do whatever you want.”
Brad was looking out the window while Eric spoke, and Eric wasn’t sure he was listening. Maybe it was still too early for him to process the loss. Then suddenly Brad spoke.
“I am not losing my license, Krannert, or the charter! You do whatever you need to maintain my license. I have lost everything else, and I am not losing that!”
Eric assured Brad he would do everything possible to save his license. Even though he was surprised at Brad’s response, he didn’t pass judgment. People respond differently to tragedy. Brad had just been told what had happened, and the process of dealing with the deaths and guilt would come later.
Before Eric left the hospital, he stopped by the pediatric unit to see Stephanie. She looked remarkably like her mother. She was sitting up in bed, talking with her maternal grandparents. Eric gave her a stuffed toy he had purchased from the gift shop. Even though she had just lost her twin sister, her brothers, and her mother, Stephanie didn’t seem sad.
THIRTEEN
DURING HIS VISIT WITH BRAD, ERIC HAD RECEIVED A PHONE CALL FROM THE NTSB INVESTIGATOR ASKING TO MEET WITH HIM AT KRANNERT. Eric readily agreed.
The airfield was just west of town, a quick twenty-minute drive from the hospital. The airport was used mostly for crop-dusting and for private pilots who flew recreationally and had small single- or double-engine aircrafts. There were several hangars the airfield rented out, as well as one maintenance hangar and one small terminal that housed business offices. Eric parked at the terminal and walked briskly into his office. The investigator was waiting for him at his office door, holding an empty coffee mug.
“I’m Eric Wilkerson, Dr. Rivers’s attorney and general counsel for Krannert’s Airfield,” Eric said as he approached. “Whatever you need, I’m sure we can get it for you quickly. I have already instructed the staff to provide access to whatever you request.”
“Henry Mills,” the investigator said as he reached out to shake Eric’s hand.
Mills had a slight build and appeared fit. He looked to be in his sixties.
Eric opened his office door and gestured toward the chairs that sat across from his desk, before slowly taking his own seat. Too late, he realized he should have offered the investigator coffee or water. His mind was still on his conservation with Brad.
“I retired from the airlines as a commercial pilot about five years ago,” Mills began, “and started working with the FAA in the NTSB as an investigator. My office handles not only accidents but near misses and in-air violations, as well as overseeing pilot licensure issues. The investigative process for a crash takes several months, as we have to wait for the determination of the cause, which involves an extensive exam into the craft itself. We also look at the medical records of the pilot and the flight plan submitted prior to takeoff. We don’t look to place blame. Our goal is to determine the cause and prevent future accidents. Sometimes these small crafts have problems that need to be addressed to prevent another tragedy, and sometimes pilot error is the cause. As part of the process, we have suspended Dr. Rivers’s license. Of course, he may continue to operate as the general manager of Krannert’s Airfield. However, he can’t fly locally or internationally. I understand the two of you are co-owners in a charter service.”
Eric nodded. “Yes, we are co-owners and partners.”
“You are also a pilot.”
* * *
Brad went back to work almost immediately following the funerals and then sent Stephanie to a private boarding school in Boston. He also confirmed to Eric that he had no intention of giving up his license to fly and would do anything necessary to keep it, telling his partner it was the only thing he had left from his former life, and after losing everything else that mattered to him, he wasn’t going to lose that too. He even hired two more physicians to cover his practice so he could spend more time at Krannert.
Within a few months of the deaths of his family, Brad met Beverly. She and her children brought meaning back into his life, and when he introduced them all to Stephanie, the group became an instant family. Stephanie and Beverly quickly bonded as stepmother and stepdaughter, and Brad quickly found himself enjoying being a father to Beverly’s children.
The couple married privately in Vegas within a year of the accident. Instead of announcing his marriage to his colleagues, friends, and family, Brad simply began referring to Beverly as his wife instead of his girlfriend. His former wife’s family and friends quickly distanced themselves from both Brad and Stephanie. Rumors continued to grow about whether Brad and Beverly had been having an affair at the time of Rachel’s death, and some even boldly wondered if the plane crash had truly been an accident.
The investigation into the cause of the accident took roughly one year, and as Eric had suspected, the cause was pilot error. After the investigation, Brad took remedial fight instructions and managed to regain his license. Eric was surprised at not only how determined Brad had been at working toward recovery of his license, but also at how fast he had adjusted to the loss of his family. He had heard the rumors that Brad had been having an affair at the time of the accident, but he easily dismissed them. He knew firsthand how much Brad had treasured Rachel, and as busy as Brad was, Eric couldn’t imagine where he would have found the time for a mistress. He remained steadfast in his defense of his friend, even though it cost him his relationship with his fiancée, Emily.
* * *
Brad moved Beverly and her children into the same house he had shared with Rachel and their children. He was sitting at the kitchen bar drinking his morning coffee, thinking of his first wife, Rachel, when Beverly came in. Rachel had been an amazing cook and loved to be in the kitchen, but Beverly could barely make a hardboiled egg. Her idea of a good breakfast was cold cereal and toast or a piece of fruit.
“Do you want me to make you something to eat before you go into work?” Beverly asked cheerfully. She knew he would say no. He always did, and to be honest, she really didn’t have any plans to make him breakfast. She also knew he preferred his first wife’s cooking to hers. That didn’t matter; what she and Brad shared was completely different from what he’d had in his first marriage. She adored him, and she knew he adored her. He and Stephanie had even started attending Sunday Mass with her.
Brad and his first wife had attended Mass occasionally, usually on holidays and special occasions. Rachel had been raised Catholic, and even though she hadn’t kept up with the Church, her dream vacation was a trip to the Vatican, so Brad had taken her. According to Brad, the trip was not just a surprise for his first wife, it was the start of his charter service. Beverly was also Catholic. She adored Brad, and attending Mass as a family intensified her belief that she and Brad were meant to be together.
Brad shook his head and smiled at his wife. “No, thanks, love. I will grab something on the way to the office. I’m going to Krannert this morning and then the practice later in the day. I have just one case this afternoon. Oh, before I go, where are you with planning the family Labor Day vacation trip?”
Beverly sat down at the bar next to him and playfully slapped his thigh. “Well, now, I haven’t made all the arrangements, but the cleaners will be getting the beach house ready. I have purchased the Disney passes, and today I will make the dinner reservations. If there is any place in particular you want to go, let me know.”
She waited for a response, but Brad just sipped his coffee and stared into the kitchen.
“Honey, did you hear me?” she asked.
“Ugh, yes, I heard you,” he said, finally glancing her way. “I don’t have any preference where we eat. Maybe see where the kids want to go, or you pick the place. I’m sure wherever we go, it will be fine. This trip will be one to remember, trust me.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head before heading to the garage to get in his car.
Beverly listened to his car pull out of the garage as she shook off the feeling that something wasn’t right. She knew Rachel had always planned the family trips to perfection. She wasn’t Rachel, but she wanted to make Brad happy, so she instantly set about finalizing the Labor Day weekend trip.
* * *
Brad stopped off to grab a quick cup of coffee at a gas station on his way to Hart’s. His true passion was flying and keeping the small airfield from closure. The cost to run and keep open the airfield was massive. He was very successful in obtaining endowments from individuals and groups to help with the expenses, but the economy was in a slump, and this year was particularly tight. The airfield was doing well, but if the slump continued, Brad was worried it would suffer. And closing it due to low revenue wasn’t an option.
Since it was Labor Day weekend, Brad and his family were planning to fly to their home in Florida. The trip was part vacation and part work, as he had plans to meet with possible investors for the airfield. Eric had prepared the financial portfolio for Krannert and included a few generic contracts just in case Brad was able to make a deal. Beverly had made all the arrangements for their mini-vacation, just as Rachel had always made their vacation plans. He loved that all he had to do was fly the plane.
* * *
The family vacation went well. Everyone had a great time, and Brad made sure everyone did or got what they wanted. When it was time to head home, the family left early on a beautiful, sunny day in Palm Beach. The flight forecast called for clear skies all the way to Reagan, New Hampshire. Although it was chillier in Reagan, the weather was almost perfect.
Brad’s family arrived at the airfield for the departure, excited and all talking at once. Brad had fueled the small jet, submitted his flight plan, and completed the safety checks before his wife and children boarded the plane. The boys boarded the jet first, followed by the family’s cocker spaniel. Stephanie got into the jet last, buckled herself in, and immediately put on her headphones. She closed her eyes and began listening to music. Just before takeoff, Brad leaned over and kissed Beverly on the cheek.
FOURTEEN
IT WAS ONLY TUESDAY, AND ERIC WAS ALREADY TIRED. With Brad out of the state over the long weekend, Eric had decided to get out of town himself. Unlike his partner, Eric didn’t like to fly his own plane when he went on vacation or took small trips. He liked to get in and get out of the airports. Doing safety checks, submitting a flight plan, and waiting on approval to take off and land just consumed too much time. The weekends always went by too fast, even long holiday weekends like this one. Soon it was time to go back to work. Eric took the earliest flight home and went directly to his office from the airport.
He liked to get to his office early before the staff arrived. As soon as he walked in, he flipped on the news, made coffee, and scoured the break room for something to eat. After finding a protein bar and pouring his coffee, he began the task of reviewing the weekend arrest reports to determine whether the state would pursue charges, reduce charges, or simply release the arrestees if there wasn’t enough evidence to convict. Occasionally a police officer would get a little overzealous, make an arrest, and write up charges that wouldn’t ho
ld.
Eric was reviewing the reports, drinking his coffee, and listening to the news when he heard the report of a small private jet crashing into a hangar at a private airfield just east of Palm Beach, Florida. The plane was piloted by an MD from New Hampshire who had taken his family on vacation. There was only one survivor, the pilot. The pilot was airlifted to a trauma center near the airstrip. Barely breathing, Eric slowly raised his eyes to the television in the corner of his office and saw images of the crash site. Even though the news did not give the name of the pilot or the deceased, Eric instantly recognized the aircraft. He didn’t need to hear the rest. It was Brad. He sat frozen to his chair, the arrest reports forgotten, his brain scrambling to make sense of another crash.
Eric made a quick call to his legal secretary and his assistant to tell them he was going to Palm Beach to see a client. It was the truth; Brad was his client. Eric’s assistant, Scott Thames, had recently passed the bar exam. He had also been employed as an investigator for the prosecutor’s office for the past few years. Scott had attended law school part-time while working for Eric, and even though he was a new attorney, he was well versed in the court process and could manage the caseload. Eric would be available by phone if needed.