Chapter 29

Palmer, Alaska

Wednesday, August 2^nd, 2023

Mage knocked on the door of Stephen’s studio apartment. There were several in this building, and they were one of the perks of working for the farm. The apartments were gratis for the first six months a person worked for the farm so they could save some money and get accommodations in town, or if they preferred, they could continue to rent the studio for a small price. Stephen had rented his for several years, and the money was simply deducted directly from his check each month.

The door opened, and he greeted her with a smile. “Thanks for getting me to the hospital. I don’t remember too much of the trip, or even what happened. It’s all kinda a blur.”

He had stitches on his temple, and Mage had heard from Bruce that the doctor had a bit of repair work to do on the temporal muscle below. It had been cut a bit. The bone had a hairline fracture in it, but the skin and muscle had cushioned it enough that it hadn’t been any worse. A concussion had occurred, which was likely why Stephen didn’t remember too much of the incident.

“I can imagine,” Mage replied. “Can we talk a bit?”

Stephen beckoned her inside, but she said, “Maybe out in the garden?”

He followed her out to the garden bench. It was a typical iron and 1x3 board bench, but instead of being in a flower garden, it was in between giant cabbages, each with heads over a foot in diameter, and pumpkins that would end up being over 100 or more pounds because of the incredible growing conditions in the Matanuska Valley.

As they sat down, she confessed, “I’m being somewhat careful for propriety’s sake, with what I’ve heard regarding Lisa and Bo.”

“Oh. That.” Stephen said.

“Yes, I’ve heard that they scheduled Bo’s English lessons during work time. Is that true?”

“Yeah. None of us blamed either of them for it. And look at the result!”

“How did Bruce react?”

“Are you trying to insinuate that Bruce may have killed his own wife? No way! He was in love with her!”

Mage put her hands out, palms up, and shrugged. “I’m just trying to figure out what happened. I don’t believe Bruce killed Lisa either, but who did?”

“I don’t think there is anything Lisa could have done to make Bruce even mad at her,” Stephen insisted. “He loved her from the bottom of his heart. You should have seen him when she disappeared!”

“So was there anything with the rumors that Bruce and Wanda may have had a thing going?”

“Oh, give me a break,” Stephen said, disgusted. “You could see how interested Wanda was in him, but he didn’t reciprocate the feelings at all.”

“Not that you could tell, anyway,” Mage pointed out.

“Are you really trying to pin this on him?” Stephen asked, getting mad.

“No, Stephen, I’m not. I simply want to know the facts, and the fact is, you don’t think Bruce reciprocated those feelings.”

* * *

Thursday, August 3^rd, 2023

Mike Chatham sat on his back deck, looking at the manila envelope in his hand. It had come priority from Lincoln City, Oregon, from an attorney. He hadn’t opened it yet and wondered why he’d received it.

Finally, he ripped open the manila envelope and pulled out an official-looking letter and another, smaller envelope.

August 1, 2023

Lt. Colonel Chatham, USAF, Retired;

Enclosed, you will find a letter from Reverend Paul Goldman. It is in a sealed envelope, and I have not seen it. I have a carbon copy envelope, but I have been instructed to open it only after I’ve sent this one to you.

I am not sure what happened on the First of August, but I received these letters with the instruction to send your copy to you on the chance something were to happen to Reverend Goldman.

All I know for certain is that the Reverend died when he drove his car off a curve overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The coroner says that there was alcohol involved, and he is reported to have been drinking heavily south of the location and apparently was on his way home.

George Pratt, LL.M.

After reading the letter from the attorney, Mike was even more confused. Who was Reverend Paul Goldman? He searched his memory once again before opening the sealed envelope but could think of no one he’d ever met with the name Paul Goldman.

Finally, he opened the envelope.

Lieutenant Colonel Chatham;

When we met, you were a Major, and returning from Mazatlan with your new wife, Gloria. You had been on your honeymoon.

I went by a different name at the time: Paul Shore. I was the Air Marshall on the Alaska Airlines flight that was hijacked.

I have no doubt that you remember Suzanne Parks, the woman who was flying the plane after the pilot and co-pilot were killed.

Likewise, you undoubtedly remember Joe Vincent, the man who pistol-whipped you.

Suzanne and Joe were living together and had a child. That child was named Heather Parks. I was Heather’s godfather, and have since adopted her.

How did I happen to be Heather’s godfather? Many years ago, I was Suzanne’s husband, and Joe was a close friend. We grew up together, actually, all three of us. Suzanne and I had been high school sweethearts and married shortly after we graduated from High School.

Suzanne became a pilot and flew local charters. I went into police work and eventually became an air marshal.

That was the end of our marriage. In spirit, anyway. I wasn’t at home much, and Suzanne couldn’t deal with it. She became depressed and turned to Joe for comfort.

I came home one day and found them… Well, you can probably guess.

I did not file for divorce, however. I simply moved out. I couldn’t believe that Joe would do such a thing and I hated that Suzanne had.

I remained married to Suzanne in the hopes that she might come back to me. Eventually, they moved to another city, and I didn’t see them anymore. Until the flight.

I did hear from them, however. I knew when they had Heather, and Suzanne asked if I would be godfather to the little girl. I couldn’t refuse.

I received pictures of Heather and updates on how she was doing, but I never received any of Suzanne or Joe. I think they knew how painful the whole thing was for me.

I guess when she had Heather, she needed to stay home. But they had just purchased a house. Her drop in pay hurt them very much. Joe had been laid off, and couldn’t find a good-paying job.

From all that I had heard, and others that I talked to after the incident, Suzanne and Joe tried to give Heather everything. They gave so much, that both started suffering from malnutrition.

Suzanne had always been, well… Quite shapely, actually. A very beautiful blonde woman.

Joe had been on the wrestling team in high school.

Someone found out about them, and approached them with the idea of the theft and hijacking. They agreed. I believe they must have been desperate, although why they didn’t ask me for help, I’ll never know. I would have been glad to.

They looked so different on the plane. When I shot Joe, I had no idea he was my old friend. He had grown a beard in high school but had shaved it off before the flight. Plus, he was so gaunt.

Suzanne had lost so much weight also. It totally changed her face, and she had dyed her short hair brown. The only time I’d ever seen her with hair even remotely short was when she’d put it up for a flight. And as I said, she’d been blonde.

When she went to prison, she died. Her malnutrition had caused medical problems.

Heather knows what her parents did, but she doesn’t know that I was the one who killed her father. I never wanted her to find out about that, so I tried my best to disappear. I even had some creep wanting to write a book based on it.

I started a new life for myself and Heather. I’d always been a Christian, so I went into the ministry. Maybe as some sort of penance.

To this day, I still feel guilty for what I did. I know Joe was trying to kill you, and he’d killed the pilot and co-pilot. I like to think that was not planned. Maybe they just hadn’t planned the hijacking as well as they should have. Perhaps he’d been forced to kill them? Regardless, I know they did what they did for Heather.

When I saw your name on that business card, I knew God was offering me a way to end the guilt. So, I want to ask you to please see to Heather’s well-being if anything should happen to me. I know it might be painful for her if she found out that you were the pilot who her father tried to kill. She knows the general story of the hijacking, but I’ve always been able to keep the particulars from her.

Because of the pain it might cause, I ask you to not adopt her, but to see that she is placed with a family who will treat her well. Neither Joe nor I have any family still alive, and Suzanne’s are all in Sweden and have never had anything to do with her.

Now, I must deliver this to my attorney, then I wish to visit a tavern not far from here. I need some toughening up.

Paul Shore

Mike had to read the letter a second, then a third time. He wondered if it were true and why Paul would lie about it if it wasn’t. Many of the details of that flight were sketchy in his mind, so he asked Gloria about the general appearance of the two hijackers. She remembered the woman with short brown hair, and both of them were extremely thin.

He nodded and held out the letter to her and she sat down to read it. As she progressed through the writing, tears started forming in her eyes. She too, read it a second time, then a third, and by that last perusal, the tears were flowing freely.

She sniffed and asked Mike, “Do you believe the story?”

“Yes, I do. I’m assuming you do as well?”

“Why would he lie?” Gloria asked, echoing Mike’s thoughts.

“I can’t see any reason,” Mike replied. “What do we do about Heather?”

“You have to ask?” Gloria seemed shocked.

“We don’t know the girl,” Mike defended himself. “And the only thing we know about her is what this letter says. Sure, we had dealings with her parents, but that was hardly anything good.”

“I’ve had dealings with rebellious kids. If she is rebellious. We don’t know that she is.”

“I agree, but for two things. One, we have a very young boy here, and two, Paul asked that we not take in Heather ourselves. Just find her a place to live.”

“Well,” Gloria said with a bit of levity, “Chet and Mage took in Sammy and Ally not long after they got married. Maybe Darryl and Marcia would take in Heather.”

Mike looked at Gloria incredulously, and then he slowly smiled. “Heather, meet your new mom. She’s only four years older than you.”

Gloria laughed. “Naw… They’ve already met.”