The Burnt House. Faye Kellerman

Roseanne was a flight attendant for WestAir. After the crash, when we couldn’t get hold of Roseanne, we called up the airlines. But WestAir told us she wasn’t working on flight 1324. Then the company called us up a couple of days later and backtracked. No, she wasn’t working 1324, but she was on the plane, hopping a ride to San Jose to work the route up there for a couple of nights … which is why they claimed they didn’t issue her a ticket.”

      “Wait a minute.” Decker started to take notes in earnest. “I thought every passenger who flew on an airline had to be issued a ticket.”

      “That’s what I thought,” Shareen said. “But I was wrong. This was told to me by one of Roseanne’s friends, so I hope I’m getting this right.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. Here we go. I think if you work for the airlines and you’re flying to work at a destination, you don’t have to be issued a ticket even if you’re not working the flight.”

      Decker nodded. “So it was possible for her to be on the flight and for the airlines not to have a record of it. But then they’d have a record of the assignment, wouldn’t they?”

      “They should have a record,” Shareen said. “But they’re not telling me yes, they have one, or no, they don’t have one.”

      “Right now they’re not saying nothing without their lawyer,” Lodestone said.

      Shareen said, “Roseanne used to work San Jose. So I figure that maybe WestAir was shorthanded in San Jose. So I called up San Jose, and asked if Roseanne was scheduled to work some routes up there. First they tell me no, then they tell me yes, then they tell me that if I want to talk to them again, they’ll put me in contact with their attorneys.”

      “Same old, same old,” Lodestone said.

      Shareen patted her husband’s knee. “Their hemming and hawing was making us very suspicious.”

      Decker nodded. It did sound funny on the surface, but the airline was probably in disarray.

      “I talked to Ivan,” Shareen said. “I just didn’t like what he told me.”

      “What did he tell you?”

      “That at the last minute, Roseanne changed her plans to work in San Jose. He told me emphatically that she was on the plane and he was upset enough without me making up stories about her not being on the plane. Then he said, in the long run, we were hurting not helping and that he and several other people had lawsuits pending, so we should kindly shut up.”

      “He told you to shut up?”

      “Not in those exact words, but that’s what he said between the lines. Then he told me I was in denial.” The old woman’s eyes watered. “I’m not in denial, Lieutenant. I know in my heart of hearts that Roseanne is dead. I just don’t think it was the crash that killed her.”

      “You said Roseanne had worked San Jose before,” Decker said. “Could she have gone up to San Jose to visit someone?”

      “Who, sir?” Lodestone said. “She’s married.”

      “I was thinking about a friend.”

      Shareen said, “If she was hitching a ride to visit someone, then WestAir would have had to issue her a ticket. The only way she could have boarded the plane without a ticket is if she was working the flight—which WestAir admitted to me that she wasn’t.”

      “But then they backtracked,” Decker said.

      “They’re lying,” Lodestone insisted. “They haven’t found her body! You know why they haven’t found her body?’ Cause it isn’t there. If that isn’t proof enough of something’s wrong, then I don’t know what is.”

      “Mr. Lodestone, I don’t want to sound like a broken record, but neither the coroner’s office nor the NTSB has claimed to recover all the bodies. And even with those that they have recovered, it takes time to do positive identification.”

      “Lieutenant, I talked to the sumbitch and asked him point blank why they haven’t dug up her body. You know what the sumbitch told me?”

      “No, Mr. Lodestone, what did he tell you?”

      “That they just didn’t dig deep enough. Can you believe that?”

      Maybe it was true. Piles of debris still hampered much of the recovery operations. Still, it was a strange remark. Decker nodded sympathetically.

      “Does that sound like a grieving husband to you?” Lodestone asked him.

      It didn’t, but Decker had stopped trying to pigeonhole grief long ago.

      Shareen said, “The only reason that Roseanne’s name is on the list is because Ivan Dresden called the newspapers and told them to put her down on the list.”

      Decker didn’t like the sound of that. “Are you certain about that?”

      Shareen backed down. “Well, that’s what I think.”

      Lodestone said, “When he found out about the plane crash, he finally found a way to kill her and hide it. You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he blew up the plane on purpose.”

      Decker had heard people say outlandish things when upset, so his accusations fell on deaf ears. None of the vehemence surprised him, although the intricacy of the fabrication that they had created to explain their daughter’s death was beyond the pale. “Has Ivan Dresden ever threatened your daughter before?”

      “He was having an affair.” Shareen had neatly sidestepped the question. “She was going to divorce him.”

      “The condo’s in her name,” Lodestone told him. “I helped her buy it. He was gonna lose everything if the divorce went through.”

      “And what did he do for a living again?” Decker asked. “Something with finance?”

      “Broker for Merrill Lynch. That’s a fancy title for a salesman.”

      “And what do you do, Mr. Lodestone?”

      “Hardware … three stores and every single one of ’em is profitable.” A smile bisected his face. “Used to bother Mr. High and Mighty that I make more money with my nails and screws than he does with his fancy stocks and bonds.”

      Shareen said, “No one has seen or heard from Roseanne since the crash, Lieutenant.”

      That’s because she has disintegrated into dust. There was denial and there was this kind of denial, people so horrified and filled with rage that they actively hunted for an object to absorb their venom. Their anger was so encompassing that it blocked out not only the anguish, but also reason.

      Decker said, “And you’re sure that she wasn’t on the airplane?”

      “I called up a few of her friends,” Shareen responded. “No one remembers anything about Roseanne working San Jose.”

      “Can you tell me the names of the friends you talked to, Mrs. Lodestone?”

      “Certainly.” She picked up a purse and opened it. “I have a list in my handbag.”

      Lodestone clapped his hands. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

      Decker held out his palm to slow the old man down. “One step at a time.” After Shareen handed him the list, he took a moment to look over the names. “And this is everyone you’ve talked to?”

      “Yes, sir, and the addresses and phone numbers are current.”

      An efficient woman. “Well, I suppose this is as good a place to start as any.”

      Moisture in the woman’s eyes ran over the lower lids and down her cheeks. “Thank you, Lieutenant, for taking us seriously.”

      Decker patted her hand. “In return, I want you to do me a favor, Mr. and Mrs. Lodestone. After investigating these leads, if I feel that Roseanne was definitely on that plane, I’d like you