Chapter Fourteen

Like a spindly newborn foal Kendall collapsed immediately in a chair. Zach remained standing, longing for the decanter of Scotch at home on his sideboard. Derek, also standing, probably longed for it too but looked preternaturally sober.

Clearing his throat, Derek said, "You may want to be seated for this too, Zach."

But Zach's knees felt locked. As he said, "I'll stand," Kendall sucked her breath in, loudly.

Derek cleared his throat again. "Let me begin by saying that I would give almost anything not to be the bearer of this news. Kendall, Zach, we just got word that the Feds have found the Cambias plane. This isn't a full report—the search is being hampered by bad weather, and the investigation is incomplete and continuing, so I can only tell you what they currently have."

The suspense was unbearable. "And?" Zach asked.

"Nothing conclusive but they do have a very preliminary finding as to the cause of the…flight malfunction." Derek looked miserable. "The pilot was flying too low for conditions, so essentially pilot error compounded by weather. Ice developed on the wings, causing the—the plane to dip, one of the wings sheared off some treetops. The pilot lost control and the plane…went down and…er, broke up."

"And?" Zach asked again.

For the third time, Derek cleared his throat. "Er…uh, look, Zach, I wish you'd sit down."

Mutely, Zach folded himself onto the edge of the sofa closest to Kendall's chair. He didn't dare look at her.

Derek continued, "They've found two bod—they've found two so far. The pilot and Ethan. Neither—I'm sorry. They didn't survive."

Somebody whispered, "Ethan," and Zach didn't even realize it was himself. This was what Zach had feared to hear…prayed not to hear. So much for prayers.

"Ethan?" Kendall asked piercingly. "Just Ethan? But where are Bianca and Erica? And Jackson?"

"There's no word on the others yet so I can't tell you that yet, Kendall. Only Ethan and the pilot have been recovered. The debris field covers a mountainous area and as I said, the weather is also an issue so the search isn't easy."

To both men's surprise, Kendall jumped to her feet. "Not easy!" she cried. "What, do they need help? I'll go out there and help them then! We can't let Bianca die! We can't let Erica die!"

Suddenly swept up by her fervor, Zach forgot his recent acknowledgement of the utter futility of such a plan. "I'll charter a plane," he declared. "If they're there we'll find them. I should have done it before. I thought about it, but—"

"No, Zach. No, Kendall," Derek shook his head regretfully. "I understand your desire to do that but let the professionals handle it."

"But I have to go there!" Kendall protested. "I have to find my sister and my mother! And how can you expect me to believe Ethan is dead if I can't see him? How do I know there hasn't been some mistake and they found the wrong plane and that really isn't Ethan? How the hell can you expect me to just keep sitting here and not do anything?" Her voice trailed off and she hobbled into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

"I'm sorry," Derek repeated sincerely to Zach. "There's no doubt about Ethan. Both bodies have been positively identified from public records. If it's any consolation to you, they barely had time to know what was about to hit them. And trust me, civilians would only be in the way out there."

Zach bowed his head in defeat. He stood, walked to the window, peered out at the growing gloom and the patch of dark sky visible overhead, the same sky that had been one of the last sights his son had ever seen on this earth. So, in the span of less than a year, I gained a full-grown son…and then lost him. Although I never really had him. He had no use for me, no more use than I had for my father. Now he's free of me, isn't he? But not the way he wanted. And not the way I wanted. Once again he was alone in a universe that seemed to be out for Cambias blood. Or was the universe simply, objectively, even helpfully prepared to accept the blood they unknowingly signaled by their own self-aggrandizing actions they were so ready to offer?

There was still young, innocent Miranda…Zach's arms ached to hold her close once more, close and safe as he'd never held Ethan, but he feared such bitter, clumsy, anguished love would only taint her…taint her as it had Ethan in the brief time he'd known him.

God, his head ached, too, and he wasn't even drunk. Zach thought again of the Scotch but even downing the whole bottle wouldn't obliterate the sneaky little devils materializing around his knees, pointing at him with repulsive scaly fingers, laughing at in merciless voices.

Still his torment didn't show except in his eyes when he turned back to Derek and asked, "Is hoping for any survivors realistic at this point?"

"I don't know, Zach," Derek replied honestly. "I'm not out there."

Reading between the lines of Derek's non-response Zach forced himself to ask next, "Then…Ethan? What happens to him now?"

"Your son's remains were removed to the State Medical Examiner's Office. Eventually, probably in the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours, they'll be released to you as the next-of-kin."

"What—what do I do?" Zach thought he heard the laughter of his father, who had been forced to mount a funeral for him when he'd disappeared of his own volition, cackling along with that of the demons. This is what it's like to lose a son you couldn't mold in your own image, Alex. Only your loss is for real.

"My office has worked with them before," Derek was saying, "so I know the Pine Valley Funeral Home can coordinate transportation arrangements to bring Ethan home. We'll help facilitate that for you, if that's what you want, Zach."

The gruesome matter-of-factness of the conversation was as chilling to Zach as its subject matter, yet it was the only thing keeping him grounded. "That would be…much appreciated. Thank you for your kindness, Derek."

"We'll be in touch, Zach. I've got to be moving on now. Can you handle Kendall on your own?" Derek asked in concern. There had not been another peep from her since she'd disappeared into the other room. "If not I can contact Myrtle Fargate to be with her," he added.

"I don't know what I can handle, in all truth," Zach admitted. "If Kendall still thinks I had anything to do with this, I don't think I can handle that."

"I'll clear that up right now." Derek swiftly crossed the room and knocked on the bedroom door. "Kendall? Kendall, I'm leaving soon. Do you have any other questions for me?"

From inside came her muffled voice. "Ye–es."

"May I open the door?"

"I'll come out." Padding out in her bare feet, Kendall rejoined Derek and Zach in the living room, not meeting either the gazes of either of them. She was currently dry-eyed, but her face was tear-stained.

Derek repeated briefly what he'd already told Zach after she'd fled to her room, adding, "And Kendall, one more thing. The plane's black box was recovered, which I earlier neglected to specifically mention. As you may know, black boxes record conversations that occur in the cockpit up to the moment of impact. I want to reiterate that as of now, based on both the black box recorder and the physical evidence, preliminary findings attribute the crash to pilot error with weather as a contributing factor. Kendall, it was a horrible, horrible accident, and I'm so sorry. But accidents happen—they happen all the time and they happen to good people."

Derek, you're full of shit. Zach did it. That was what Kendall wanted to say. It was only what she'd been saying all along. Now was her chance to really nail Zach but somehow her lips rebelled in mouthing the words…as if knowing such words, released now, would incur too great a cost after, taking on a life of their own, greedily drawing into them the very air from the room. But she and Zach breathed the same air…she would be suffocated too. "I didn't know private planes had black boxes," Kendall said instead.

The police chief nodded. "It's a requirement for any plane that carries more then ten passengers."

"Can I hear what is on the recording?"

"I don't have access to it, Kendall. Only the Feds and the experts they pick for the formal investigation can listen to the actual tape recording," Derek explained. "Afterwards a written transcript of the recording will be released. We can see you each receive a copy."

Did it matter? Pilot error and bad weather were amorphous things; you couldn't nail them to a wall and hurl your fears at them like poison-tipped darts, vainly seeking satisfaction as they flinched. You could only do that to a mark like Zach Slater: He was real, solid, concrete. His notoriety made of him a big, convenient, plausible target; the baggage he trailed slowed him down until he was impossible to miss. Zach stood quietly by the window, still and silent and weighted down as stone. But somehow the chance to nail him kept slipping like sand through her fingers. She simply couldn't control her aim anymore.

But Zach had to have done it. He had to. Because if he didn't then there's no one I can blame for this, is there? "How long will it take to get a transcript?" Kendall asked aloud, rubbing her arms.

Derek's voice was patient. "I wish I could tell you, Kendall, but I have no idea how the procedure will take."

"Don't put me down for a copy," Zach said in a low voice. "Rather not see it."

Glancing sympathetically at him, Derek said, "Okay, I've told you both all I know and I can't tell you how much I wish it was better news. I need to go now but I promise the instant I know anything about Erica, Bianca, and Jack I'll contact you."

Kendall waited for Zach to follow out Derek out, yet she felt within herself an odd, unfamiliar, unexpected reluctance for Zach to leave. In her numbness it was all she was even dimly conscious of feeling, but why? Because Zach was a connection, however tenuous, to Ethan, formed from Zach's flesh? Unconsciously she rubbed her arms again. That didn't seem like quite the right answer. But nothing else made any better sense.

"Kendall." Zach's voice was so husky she had to strain to hear it.

"Yes?"

"For what it's worth—I want to say thank you."

"For what?" Kendall's confusion wasn't feigned.

"Thank you for giving Ethan someone to love and believe in, and to love and believe in him in return. He didn't have much of a father in me—but at least he had you. That made him a lucky man indeed."

"Stick the knife in, why don't you, Zach?" She found herself lashing out at his compassionate words, the uncalled-for reaction surprising Kendall herself.

There was a long pause. "That isn't what I was doing, Kendall. Nor what I intended to do. Still, I suppose anything I can say will come amiss. Just know it isn't meant to and I regret if it does. Good-night." Zach's tired voice was full of sadness.