The Color of a Promise (The Color of Heaven Series Book 11) (22 page)

Each one had the company logo
Oxy-GeoTech
emblazoned on the surface, and there was no sign of any protective packaging. Not that it mattered. With or without packaging, the air transfer of lithium batteries for further sale or distribution was strictly prohibited by the FAA.

“If this is what it looks like,” I said, “and Jaeger-Woodrow Airways is shipping these things in the cargo hold, they’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

“You’re telling me.”

Gary picked up a phone and called headquarters.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Jack

Katelyn and I had been sitting at Aaron’s bedside in the ICU for five hours straight when she rose from her chair, squirming.

“I can’t hold it anymore,” she said. “I have to go to the bathroom, but I don’t want to leave him. I want to be here if…
when
he wakes up.”

I recognized an undertone—that she didn’t want to be gone from the room if something else happened.

“I’ll be right here,” I told her, rising to move to the chair she had been occupying, closer to the head of the bed.

“I’ll be quick,” she said. “If he wakes up, tell him I’m here.”

“I will.”

She hurried from the room.

All I could do was sit and listen to the sound of her anxious footfalls, beating quickly down the hall to the nearest washroom. Then there was only silence, except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

I looked down at my brother’s pale, still face behind the oxygen mask and was struck by my keen awareness of Katelyn’s unconditional love for him and his love for her. There was a permanence between the two. Something unbreakable and eternal that would continue beyond this life and this world.

It was a glimpse at something I had never truly considered before now—that Katelyn had found it in herself to forgive all imperfections and petty arguments and whatever else might have stood in the way of their undying devotion to each other.

I felt suddenly inadequate, because I had never known such a forgiving love.

Aaron wasn’t perfect. She knew it as well as anyone because he had, in the past, fallen from grace, as we all have at one time or another. He had been unfaithful to her. On that day, when she learned of it, I tried to convince her to choose me over him, but instead she had chosen to forgive.

I had walked away from them, putting distance between us, while resenting Aaron for his triumph, which was undeserved, in my mind.

As far as my brother was concerned, I could never think of anything but his missteps, and how it was unjust that he always won, in spite of them.

But wasn’t it true that sometimes, the most important lessons are learned from our most regrettable mistakes? He had said that once—that regret is a powerful teacher.

Katelyn had forgiven him eons ago, and look at them now? Aaron was a good man with a good heart, as loyal as they came. There was no doubt in my mind that they would be together forever, more deeply devoted to each other than anyone I’d ever known.

I couldn’t deny a momentary flash of jealousy. Not because I wanted Katelyn for myself. What I wanted was
what
they had.

Love. Unconditional love.
The permanent, soulful connection that could never be severed, not even under the most dire circumstances, including death.

Aaron and I had grown up together, for better or worse. As children, we started out on a rocky path with a dark history. But maybe we had been placed on this earth as brothers for a reason.

Maybe this time, I was the one with lessons to learn
.

Katelyn returned to the room just then, and I stood up to give her chair back to her. As I watched her take hold of Aaron’s hand, I prayed that he would come back to us, because for the first time, I felt as if my fate with my brother was not sealed, that the past did not dictate the future. Every day was a new day, a new opportunity to start fresh. Intellectually, I’d always known that, but why had I never been able to apply it to my relationship with Aaron?

My cell phone rang, and I saw that it was Meg. I left the room to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jack.” Just the sound of her voice was a comfort to me. “I heard about your brother. It was on the news. Are you okay?”

I leaned against the wall and tipped my head back. “He’s not doing so well.”

Meg was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do? Would you like me to come over there?”

I pushed away from the wall and walked slowly toward the visitors lounge. “No, we’re all right. I’m here with Katelyn, and my parents are on their way. Besides, I imagine you’ve got your hands full. I heard they found the black box earlier today.”

“That’s right,” she replied.

I glanced at the clerk at the nurses’ station as I passed by. “What’s going on with that?”

She sighed. “Do you really want to hear this?”

“Yeah, I could use a distraction.”

“Well. We’re still waiting for the data from the black box, but I just got back from the Coast Guard vessel where they found the rest of the wreckage. There’s going to be some news about that at the press conference tonight. Are you planning to be there?”

I walked into the lounge and sat down on a sofa. “No, I called my producer to get Joe to take over for me and do my show tonight. I just need…” I paused. “I need to be here right now.”

“Of course.” Meg hesitated. “Listen, Jack…I’ve never met your brother, but…I wish I could be there with you… Just to be there.”

We were both quiet, and I swallowed over a thick lump that rose up in my throat.

“Can you tell me what I’ll be missing at the press conference?” I asked, because I knew that if I started talking about Aaron, I might not be able to keep it together.

Meg cleared her throat. “I probably shouldn’t reveal this yet, but the whole world is going to know pretty soon anyway.” She paused again. “There were some developments this afternoon. We can’t say for sure if this is what caused the explosion—we’ll need to bring up the wreckage and do a formal examination of the damage to the plane—but when we sent a camera down to film what was on the ocean floor, we found something we didn’t expect to see.”

I frowned. “What was it?”

“Brace yourself.” She sighed with a note of defeat. “There were thousands of lithium-ion batteries down there. You wouldn’t have believed it. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like a giant field of shiny, silver grass.”

I pressed my hand to my forehead in disbelief. “You’re kidding me. That’s breaking a few rules, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Everyone in the aviation world knows that lithium batteries are strictly prohibited in the cargo holds of aircrafts because they can combust. I can’t even begin to comprehend their blatant and totally careless disregard for FAA rules and regulations.”

“How in the world could that have happened?” I asked.

“We’re still trying to figure it out. What we do know is that the battery shipment wasn’t listed with the airline, so someone was obviously getting around security, sneaking it on somehow. The FBI and our team at the airport are looking into it now, interviewing the airline employees, baggage handlers, and everyone else who played a part in getting that flight off the ground. They’ll get to the bottom of it, I swear it on my life. But either way, Reg Harrison has a lot to answer for, because guess what company manufactured those batteries?”

I sat forward. “Please, tell me it wasn’t Oxy-GeoTech.”

“Bingo.”

I sat back and let out a breath. “That man needs to go to jail.”

“I agree. But listen, I have to get going. We have a team briefing before the press conference and I have to make a few calls about the black box. But will you call me or text me later about your brother? I’ll be thinking about you, Jack, and saying prayers.”

I felt a wave of calm move over me, and a strong desire to be with her again. “Thank you Meg. I’ll be thinking about you, too. Good luck tonight.”

We hung up and I returned to Aaron’s room in the ICU.

When I entered, I found Katelyn in tears. My stomach dropped.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

She turned to me. “I don’t know. Why won’t he wake up, Jack? What will I do if he doesn’t?”

Chapter Forty

Meg

It was nearly midnight when I finally slid my key card into the lock of my hotel room and pushed the door open. I couldn’t wait to get into my pajamas and brush my teeth—maybe pour a glass of wine from the minibar—because it had been that kind of day.

The press conference that evening was pure pandemonium after Gary and I revealed what we’d seen at the bottom of the Atlantic. Questions were asked: How was it possible that a major commercial airliner, taking off from a major U.S. airport, had managed to get a shipment of potentially explosive, restricted materials into the cargo hold? Was no one paying attention? Was no one doing their job? There were nearly two hundred souls on board that doomed flight. Innocent passengers. Mothers, sons, daughters, husbands. How could this have happened?

I had no explanation for those who wanted answers, and it was probably the most trying, discouraging moment of my career—to face the family members and tell them what we still
didn’t
know.

The investigation was far from over, and we would need to examine all the evidence to determine what exactly caused the plane to crash, but no matter what we concluded in the coming weeks and months, it was impossible to reverse what had occurred. The end result would be the same. A plane had crashed and innocent people had died.

I closed my hotel room door, locked it, and flopped onto my back on the bed. I felt numb all over. Disturbed and full of grief.

Staring up at the ceiling, I tried to calm my mind and rein in my emotions, and even so, there was something about this particular crash that was hitting me harder than any other.

I was having a difficult time coming to grips with it—maybe because it had been caused by the same man who was negligent in the past and had gotten away with it, scot-free. People died in 1984, including Jack’s childhood friend. I didn’t want to let that monster get away with it again. Not this time. Not on my watch.

Sitting up, I thought of Jack and his brother in the hospital. I felt an intense longing and wanted desperately to know how they were both doing. So I rose to my feet, withdrew my phone from my jacket pocket and checked my messages.

There were none from Jack, so I decided to text him as I crossed to the minibar.

Hey. How are you?

I pressed send, set the phone down on the top of the fridge and went to change into my pajamas. A few minutes later, I returned to the fridge and opened it up. Inside, I found two small bottles of Pinot Grigio, among other things.

Ah
,
yes
. This was exactly what I needed.

I unscrewed one cap and poured it into a glass. I was just taking the first sip when my phone buzzed. I reached to pick it up.

I’ve been better,
Jack replied
. Aaron is still the same. I’m just leaving the hospital now. How are you?

I could feel his despair almost physically, so I was quick to respond.

I had a rough day, too. Just poured myself a glass of wine out of the minibar. Would you like one? If so, I’m in room 621.

My phone vibrated almost instantly, and my heart skipped a beat.

You sure? Because I could use a glass of wine. I could be there in about ten minutes.

I quickly thumbed a response.
Yes. Please come. I want to see you
.

There was so much to talk about, and not just what was going on with his brother and the latest developments in the investigation. I wanted to talk about other things too—the highs and lows of his life. I felt a yearning for him—to truly
know
everything about him—and the intensity of that desire baffled me.

Another text came in.
Ok. See you shortly
.

Excitement flooded my veins. I hurried to brush my teeth and pull on a light sweater.

o0o

Five minutes later, I opened my door to find Jack standing in the hall, looking impossibly gorgeous in blue jeans and a red plaid shirt. But there were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was tousled, as if he’d been raking his fingers through it all day. How weary he looked.

I stepped aside and invited him in.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said as I quietly closed the door behind him. “It’s late, and I see you’re in your pajamas. Are you sure this is okay?”

“Of course,” I replied. “I wanted to see you.”

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep intake of breath, and when he gazed across at me with unadulterated sorrow, all I wanted to do was take away his pain.

Stepping forward, I said, “Come here.” I pulled him into my arms where we stood for a long time without speaking, simply embracing each other.

It felt good—
more
than good—to run my hand up and down his back and to lay my cheek on his shoulder. I felt the stroke of his fingers slide up under my hair to cup the back of my neck, and I wanted to stay like that forever.