Chris Carter - I Am Death

Garcia’s eyebrows arched slightly at Tom’s response because, in all honesty, he was about to give up on the interview.

‘A passenger caught her eye not so long ago. Attractive man, tall, well built, well dressed, very polite, very quiet too.’

‘You saw him?’

‘Yeah, we were working the same flight. Sharon really had the hots for him.’ Tom proceeded to tell Garcia about Sharon asking him what he thought of the passenger, and their little guessing game.

Garcia kept his voice steady and void of any excitement because he knew that this could mean absolutely nothing at all. As Tom had said, as a flight attendant, Sharon Barnard would’ve seen a staggering number of faces over the past year and throughout her whole life. Garcia was well aware of the fact that a person’s subconscious doesn’t only spit recent memories and images back at them. It can go back months, years, decades even. But there was also a chance that the passenger could be the man they were looking for. Garcia needed more details.

‘You didn’t happen to catch his name, do you?’

‘No, sorry, Detective.’

‘It’s OK.’ Garcia moved forward in his seat. ‘So this passenger showed no signs of recognizing Ms. Barnard, even though she thought he looked familiar?’

Tom shook his head. ‘Not as far as I know. If he had, she would’ve jumped at the chance, I’m telling you.’

Garcia wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign.

‘Did this passenger look familiar to you at all?’ Garcia asked. ‘Do you think that maybe you have seen him on a previous flight or something?’

‘No, not to me. Truth be told, he was quite a hunk. If I had seen him before, I’m very sure that I would remember.’ Tom looked at Garcia curiously. ‘Do you think that this passenger could’ve had anything to do with what happened to Sharon?’

‘Probably not,’ Garcia admitted. ‘But we’re checking absolutely everything.’

Those last words seemed to comfort Tom.

‘Can you remember which flight it was?’ Garcia asked.

Tom chewed on his bottom lip. ‘Not exactly, no, but I know that it wasn’t that long ago.’

‘Past week? Two?’

‘Umm... ’ Some more squinting. ‘I don’t think it was any longer than in the past week.’

‘And you’re sure you can’t remember which flight it was? That would really help.’

Tom rubbed his eyes as he thought back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a long while. ‘I can’t remember. My mind is in such a mess.’

‘That’s not a problem,’ Garcia reassured him. He decided to try a different approach to narrow it down as much as he could. ‘How many flights did you and Ms. Barnard work together in the past week, do you know?’

‘I’m not quite sure, but let me go get my cellphone and I’ll find out.’

As Tom got to the door, he paused and looked back at Garcia.

‘Would you like a drink, Detective? Coffee, juice, water?’

‘No, I’m fine for now, thank you very much.’

Tom left the study. When he came back, he was holding a smartphone in his right hand.

‘We did five flights together last week,’ he announced even before he had returned to his seat.

Damn! Garcia thought. That was still a hell of a lot of passengers.

‘Is there anything else you can remember about the flight that could maybe narrow it down a little further?’

Tom looked pensive. ‘It was a morning flight, I remember that.’ He checked his cellphone again. ‘OK, Sharon and I worked only three morning flights last week. We did an out/in from LA to Frisco on Monday. We flew out from LAX at six a.m., landed at around seven-hirty at San Francisco International Airport, quick turnaround, left Frisco at eight-thirty a.m. and landed back at LAX at around ten. The other flight began as an overnight. We flew out to Sacramento on that same Monday night, but the flight back was on Tuesday morning.’

Tom lifted a hand and made a face at Garcia, as if he had just remembered something else.

Garcia waited.

‘OK,’ Tom said. ‘I just remembered that the passenger we are talking about was on a flight back to LA, not on an outward flight.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m pretty sure. I remember that, after we landed, Sharon and I had a quick sandwich and a cup of coffee at Brioche Dorée in terminal four. I remember it because she kept on looking around and over her shoulder to see if she could spot him again.’

Down to two flights.

‘Anything else you remember that might help us identify who that passenger was?’ Garcia asked. ‘Or maybe narrow it down a little bit more?’

Garcia saw Tom’s eyes widen a fraction and his eyebrows lift. He had remembered something else.

‘He was sitting toward the front of the plane,’ Tom said, triumphantly. ‘I remember it because I could see him well from the plane’s front galley. That’s where Sharon and I were playing our passengers’ game. But as far as I can remember, he wasn’t right at the front, so I would discard rows one through six, maybe. I’d say he was somewhere between rows seven and fourteen.’

Garcia wrote that down in his notebook. That was a good start. With the mayor and the Governor of California so involved in this case, he would have no problem getting the passenger manifest from the airline.

‘And is this the only passenger that you remember Ms. Barnard mentioning anything about looking familiar to her recently?’

Tom nodded. ‘Like I’ve said, Detective, that sort of thing happens a lot, but yes, he’s the only one that comes to mind right now.’

‘Is it OK if I ask a police sketch artist to come see you some time this afternoon?’

‘I’m not sure I remember him that well, Detective?’

‘Anything helps,’ Garcia countered. ‘And these sketch artists are pretty good at what they do.’

Tom looked down at his feet for a second. ‘Yes, of course. Anything I can do to help catch the sick bastard that did that to Sharon.’

‘Just one more thing,’ Garcia said.

‘Sure.’

‘I take it that, also because of the job you do, yours and Sharon’s circle of friends is quite tight?’

‘Yes, I guess you could say that.’

Garcia reached into his pocket and retrieved a photograph he had brought with him. It was the portrait shot of Nicole Wilson.

‘Do you happen to know if Sharon knew this woman? If they were friends, perhaps?’

Tom took the photograph and examined it for several seconds, before returning it to Garcia and shaking his head at the same time. ‘No, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen her before. Is she a stewardess as well?’

‘No, she’s just someone we interviewed yesterday who said she knew Ms. Barnard,’ Garcia lied.

‘Oh.’ Tom nodded. ‘Maybe she did. I just don’t remember ever seeing her.’

Garcia got to his feet. ‘Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Hobbs. You’ve been a great help.’

They shook hands and Garcia handed Tom one of his cards. ‘If you remember anything else, no matter how small it might seem to you, please don’t hesitate to contact me. It could be very important to us. My cellphone number is on the back.’

Tom took the card and looked at it for a quick second before placing it in his back pocket.

‘Of course I will.’

Tom walked Garcia to the front door.

‘Detective,’ he called as Garcia stepped on to the footpath that took him across the property’s front lawn.

Garcia turned around to face him.

‘You will catch the psycho who did that to Sharon, won’t you? Please tell me you will.’ His eyes glassed over one more time as he waited for Garcia’s reply.

Garcia nodded once. ‘Yes, we will catch him.’