Three and a half months later Frank sat at his new desk in the Ashburn, Virginia regional office of the NTSB, more or less wishing that his vision of being fired had come true.
Being an office drown was not his forte. He missed field work. Truth be told, he even missed the stench of jet fuel and burnt flesh. But he would never have admitted that to anyone. That in itself would have been grounds for a psych review and he had another two months of probation, reviewing the reports of other on-site investigators before he could get back into the field, provided his name was not linked to any more crashes in a negative way.
To his surprise Agent Sanchez had backed him up during the FBI’s investigation of his involvement in the crashes of Flight 404 and 625.
The investigation had hit a snag when the FBI was unable to find any trace of Rebecca Schuster. Somehow, she had managed to slip through their nets.
As for her strange behavior on the tape, a well-known physiatrist after viewing the tape said it was most likely due to DID, Disassociate Identity Disorder. And that the DID had probably been brought on by the sexual abuse she suffered from her father and/or the continued harassment inflicted upon her after Donald Schuster refused to move out of the neighborhood.
Unfortunately, no one would ever know for sure because a search of Rebecca’s apartment had uncovered what had really become of her parents. Their bodies were found hacked to pieces, wrapped in plastic, and covered with lime in a freezer located in the kitchen pantry. They’d never left for Florida.