Chapter 7: The Brother I Buried
I read the sentence three times.
Your brother was the first person to approve the aircraft that killed our witness.
My brother.
Thomas Whitmore.
For twenty-two years, Thomas had been the person I trusted most in the world. He had helped me care for our mother when she developed Alzheimer's. He had stood beside me at my husband's funeral. He had even driven me to Arthur Bennett's funeral six years earlier.
And according to the photograph in my hands, he had been involved in the very scandal I was investigating.
"Ms. Whitmore?""
Michael's voice pulled me back.
I folded the photograph.
"Where did you get this?""
"Inside Arthur's original investigation file.""
"Who took it?""
"I don't know. But there's a date on the back.""
I turned the photograph over.
October 14.
Six years earlier.
The same week Arthur Bennett supposedly died.
I looked at Michael.
"Why would Arthur send me this now?""
"Because he knew you wouldn't believe it unless you saw it yourself.""
"Where is Arthur?""
Michael hesitated.
"I don't know.""
"Did you see him three weeks ago?""
"Yes. He was in the maintenance hangar with Daniel Cross and your brother.""
I closed my eyes.
"Thomas works in commercial property development. He has never worked for an airline.""
"Not officially.""
Michael reached into his pocket and removed another folded document.
"Your brother owns a company called Whitmore Aviation Consulting.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"It was registered under a different address. The company received payments from the airline's maintenance department.""
I examined the document.
There it was.
A company registration number.
Thomas's signature.
And a payment record totaling $2.8 million.
I felt sick.
"Why would he receive that money?""
Michael lowered his voice.
"Because his company was used to approve maintenance work that had never actually been completed.""
I looked at the captain.
Robert's expression had become unreadable.
"Captain, do you know anything about this?""
He shook his head.
"No. But if these documents are authentic, we have a much bigger problem than a falsified cabin report.""
Before I could answer, Sergeant Grant's radio crackled.
"Control, we have a development.""
She listened for several seconds.
Then her face tightened.
"What do you mean he's requesting access?""
She looked at me.
"Ms. Whitmore, someone identifying himself as Thomas Whitmore is waiting outside the aircraft.""
My heart stopped.
"Where?""
"At the forward boarding stairs.""
I looked toward the aircraft door.
Thomas.
After six years of believing Arthur was dead, after discovering his name on a maintenance badge, after finding my own brother in a photograph connected to an aviation scandal, Thomas had appeared in person.
"Do not let him board," I said.
Grant nodded.
"Understood.""
But a moment later, the aircraft phone rang.
Robert answered.
"Flight 417.""
A familiar voice came through.
"Eleanor? It's me.""
My knees nearly weakened.
Thomas.
He sounded exactly as he always had. Calm, warm, almost amused.
"Thomas?""
"Thank God. I've been trying to reach you.""
"How did you know I was here?""
A pause.
"Daniel called me.""
I looked at the photograph.
"Why are you involved with Daniel Cross?""
Another pause.
Then he sighed.
"Because you've stumbled into something you don't understand.""
I gripped the phone.
"Did you approve maintenance work on Flight 417?""
"Eleanor, listen to me.""
"Did you?""
"I signed documents. That doesn't mean I knew what they contained.""
"Did you receive $2.8 million from the airline?""
Silence.
Then his voice hardened.
"Who showed you those papers?""
"Answer the question.""
"You're making a terrible mistake.""
I almost laughed.
"That's exactly what Daniel told me.""
Thomas lowered his voice.
"Arthur was unstable. You know that. He became obsessed with people stealing his work. He invented stories about the airline and started accusing everyone around him.""
I stared at the envelope.
"Arthur was not unstable.""
"You haven't seen what I saw.""
"Then tell me what you saw.""
Thomas exhaled.
"He came to me six years ago. He was convinced someone was altering maintenance records. He asked me to help him expose it. I refused because he had no evidence.""
"And then he died.""
"Yes.""
"At least that's what you told me.""
His breathing changed.
I knew my brother well enough to recognize when he was frightened.
"Thomas, what happened to Arthur?""
"I can't discuss this over the phone.""
"Then discuss it in person.""
"I'll come aboard.""
"No.""
"Eleanor, I'm your brother.""
"That doesn't answer my question.""
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he said something that made the hair rise on my arms.
"Do you remember the night Arthur died?""
I didn't answer.
Thomas continued.
"You weren't supposed to be at the hospital that night. I told you to stay home.""
I remembered.
A phone call at 11:40 p.m.
Thomas telling me Arthur had suffered a sudden medical emergency.
By the time I reached the hospital, the family had already been informed that he was gone.
I had never questioned it.
Not once.
"Why are you bringing that up?"" I whispered.
Thomas's voice became almost gentle.
"Because I was the last person who spoke to Arthur before he died.""
I looked at the photograph again.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
"Did you kill him?""
The silence was unbearable.
Finally, Thomas answered.
"No, Eleanor.""
I closed my eyes.
Then he added:
"But I helped someone make sure he stayed dead.""
The call ended.
I stood motionless.
Emily covered her mouth.
Michael looked away.
Sergeant Grant immediately contacted her team.
But I barely heard her.
My brother had just admitted that he helped conceal the death of a man I had loved like family.
And before I could process that confession, a message appeared on the aircraft's cabin display.
May you like
It was a notification from an unknown sender.
*YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO HAND OVER THE ENVELOPE. OTHERWISE, YOUR BROTHER WILL BE NEXT.*
