However, when he’d gone ahead to the car, Frankie had pulled me aside and slipped me a business card. She hadn’t said much about it, but I knew she wouldn’t have given me the card without good reason. Especially since she was risking her partner’s wrath by even giving me the contact information.
With the staff meeting in the works and an hour to kill before I needed to leave for my appointment with the lawyer, I sat at my desk and tried to throw my wavering concentration into checking my emails. Since taking over the museum, I’d built up an impressive list of contacts in the aviation world and was constantly getting tips and information about upcoming auctions and sales on vintage planes that would be a good fit for my collection.
And, if there was one thing that would cheer me up, it would be starting the hunt for a new plane.
However, once the long list of emails loaded, it was nothing but nosy reporters and journalists asking for an interview regarding the crash. “Great, just what I need,” I muttered to myself, sighing. “More people in my fuckin’ business.”
I absently began deleting the messages one by one when a sharp ringing sound pierced the silence. The sound ricocheted around my office, and I jolted to my feet, a twinge in my side reminding me that sudden movements still weren’t a good idea. The sound registered as the buzzer at the back door, where trucks would drop off deliveries. Usually airplane parts, boxes or brochures, or random office supplies.
Lana always handled these things, so I had no idea what was due to be dropped off but headed back to open the door to the hangar where things were usually received, since it had the most free space.
The buzzer rang again. “Fuck, give me a minute,” I growled under my breath.
I jerked the side door open with my good hand and found myself staring eye to eye with Gary, the FAA agent, and this time, he’d brought a whole pack of buddies with him. “What the hell is this?” I asked him, craning to look past his stocky body, to assess how many others were standing behind him. From the initial count, he had brought along a dozen other agents. Or, at least, I assumed them to all be agents as they were all dressed the same and wore the same jackets. Frankie was among them and flashed a quiet smile in my direction before re-locking her jaw in a stern expression that matched those around her.
They obviously weren’t here for a tour…
“Mr. Rosen,” Gary said, his clipped tone snapped my attention back to him. “This is a warrant to do a thorough search of the premises as a part of the FBI investigation in regards to the accident.”
“FBI?” My mouth flopped open. “What the hell do they want?”
Gary looked annoyed, as though my question was beneath him. “Someone tampered with your fuel lines, Mr. Rosen. There’s no way that was an accident. As we discussed yesterday, someone was trying to harm you, and possibly more than just you, and in the process, a woman died. This has turned into a homicide investigation.”
“Oh my God…” I raked my casted hand over my hair as the unbroken one still braced the heavy metal door open. “This is insane.”
“Just let us do our job, Mr. Rosen. We can handle this from here.” He made a move to step past me and I stood aside, holding the door as they all filed in. Only as they were passing through did I realize that some of the jackets had the FAA emblem, while a handful of others were wearing the FBI logo. The group was a fifty-fifty mix from my initial count.
When they were all inside, they fanned out, not bothering to ask me for the location of anything in particular as they began their search. Gary and Frankie hung back to continue with me. “How long is this going to take?” I asked, looking at Frankie. “I have my entire staff coming in for a meeting this afternoon. This is the first day without a gang of insane protesters at my door and I’d like to get back to work.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but Gary interjected, taking control away from her. “There’s no set timeline here, Mr. Rosen. It will take as long as it takes. We removed your so-called gang outside to make sure we could get this done as quickly as possible, but there’s no guarantee how long it will take. This is a crime scene, now. This place is to stay closed to anyone other than our team and the FBI agents working with us.”
My irritation threatened to boil over as I realized that I’d traded a pack of angry protesters for an angrier mess of government officials. “That was you guys? How’d you manage to get rid of the vultures?” I asked, jerking my chin toward the front of the museum.