Page 26 of Heartbeat
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Stephanie, this is Chief Warren. I have a weird question. By any chance do you know the exact time that Dani Pope’s warning about the chopper exploding came into the office?”
Stephanie frowned. “Actually, I do. I’d just glanced up at the clock, because I had a dental appointment after school, and I’d lost track of time. It was exactly 12:47 p.m.”
“Thanks,” Sonny said. “That’s all I need. Talk to you later.”
Sonny got back on the landline call with Muncy.
“I just spoke to the school principal. She said it was 12:47 p.m. when Dani Pope called the office to tell them to evacuate the school, that a chopper had exploded in midair and she feared it was going to hit the school.”
“Perfect,” Muncy said.
Sonny frowned. “Now, what the hell’s going on?”
“My murder victim was seen in a clearing at the campgrounds, looking through binoculars with a phone in his hand. The clerk went on to say that Townley seemed distracted and in a panic when he came in minutes later to check out, and I needed to know if that phone call on the phone we have, in any way matches up with the time the chopper exploded. We made this connection fromthe campground receipt, but at this time, it’s still just a theory.”
Sonny was stunned. “What I know is that the NTSB is here investigating the crash, and the feds are on the way, which means to me that they already suspect foul play. If you discover that timeline fits, I suggest you contact the feds and let them know your murder victim might be the trigger man, because all of this will be way out of our league.”
“Can you tell me the name of the people who were on the chopper?” Muncy asked.
“I can tell you the names of the people who were registered on the manifest, but until DNA confirms the remains, no announcements are being made.”
“Fair enough. Who do they think they are?” Muncy asked.
“Zander Sutton would be the pilot. He owns a charter service out of Miami, and apparently flies people in and out of here on a regular basis, particularly a man named Wolfgang Outen, who was due to attend a board meeting at Hotel Devon, here in Jubilee. Apparently, he is an investor in the hotel, and they meet here quarterly.”
The hair crawled on the back of Muncy’s neck. “Wolfgang Outen? Are you serious?”
“That’s the report,” Sonny said. “What about him?”
“Midfifties. Midas rich. I actually own stock in one of his companies,” Muncy said. “This takes things to a whole other level, and I have a favor to ask. I’ve already spoken to the clerk at Bullard Campgrounds. Theyhaven’t cleaned the cabin Townley rented yet, and I’ve asked him to lock it and keep everyone out until it’s been searched. Do you have a team from your crime lab who could go out to the campgrounds and do a sweep for me? It would be highly appreciated.”
“Yes, sure,” Sonny said. “Was it a man named Jordan who you spoke to at the campground?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll let him know my people are on the way and have them send their findings to you. I’ll need an email address.”
Muncy gave him the info, and then they disconnected.
Sonny made a quick call to the lab, issued the orders, and then called the campgrounds to let them know his team was on the way.
Back in Miami, Muncy was comparing the timeline of the phone call on Townley’s phone to the timeline of the explosion. When he realized that the call on Townley’s phone went through within the same minute as Dani’s warning to the school, his gut knotted. He’d been a detective too long to believe in coincidences. There would be no questioning Townley, but his possessions and clothing would have to talk for him.
Wolfgang’s plane landed in Sao Paulo, Brazil, over eight hours after it took off from Miami. The moment he was on the ground, he called Stu, but there was no answer. Hefrowned. Even if Stu was in the board meeting, he would have taken the call.
He took a cab to the hotel, registered for the room Stu had already reserved, then sat down and called Julio Ruiz, the manager of the refinery. He wasn’t going to drive out to that location until he knew what the threat level was at the moment, and if foul play had indeed been the cause of the fire.
Ruiz hadn’t been home since the explosion. He was in a panic, tired to the bone, at a loss as to what to do until the fire was extinguished, and at the moment, they did not even have the fire contained.
He had workers who were dead. Workers who’d been injured in the explosion, and workers who’d walked off the jobsite. And while he was waiting for help to arrive, they’d received word this morning that Wolfgang Outen had died in a chopper crash. He’d tried all morning to call Outen’s personal assistant, but even he wasn’t answering, and then his phone rang, and when he saw the call was from Wolf’s company, he sighed with relief and answered in English.
“This is Ruiz.”
“Ruiz, it’s me, Wolf. I just landed and—”
All of a sudden, Ruiz was screaming in his ear and speaking Portuguese so fast Wolf couldn’t follow. Finally, he shouted.
