CHAPTER FIVE
DETECTIVE LIEUTENANT Nolan Brice stood in the brush near the wrecked aircraft, watching the men move about in the light of several spotlights that had been set up by the National Guardsmen who had roped off the area. The thick blackness of the surrounding forest, plus a glance at his watch, told him that dawn wasn’t too far away. FAA investigator Dickson, a thin, stringy ex-pilot stepped around the scrambled bits of wreckage and offered a light to the dead cigarette in Nolan’s mouth.
“Thanks,” Brice said and blew the smoke to the night. “What d’you make of it, Mister Dickson?”
Dickson shrugged and pushed his snap-brim hat back with a blunt forefinger. “Dunno. It’s pretty dark to see much, but it’s no private plane.”
“Why do you say that?”
“No wings, no tail assembly. Of c
