Free 5 - Choker: Ike Schwartz Mystery 5 by Frederick Ramsay

right of parents.
    “But rationalizing stupidity, bad behavior, and evil doesn’t make it intelligent or good. Black is not white, I don’t care how many times it says so on the Internet.” Blake paused and took a breath. “I’m sorry, Lanny, I’m taking out my frustrations on you. It’s your principal that needs to learn to weigh ideas without societal bias.”
    “But the devil…”
    “Devil, Satan, misdirected choices, all the perversions of what you and I hold as a standard for righteousness, whatever—call it what you want. Evil is real and it threatens society everyday. Psychobabble and good intentions will not allay it, and may even promote it. But my concern, here, is for that kid. He has put himself in harm’s way and your idiot principal needs to do something about it.”
    “What can he do?”
    Good question. In a secular society that does not permit spiritual intrusion in its governance, DiComo could do nothing. “Look, I am not pushing religion here. Maybe I should be. It’s what I’m paid to do, in fact. I am not one of those bible thumping, mousse-haired televangelists, and I am not proselytizing students or anybody else, for that matter, more’s the pity. He doesn’t have to believe me, but he should at least acknowledge the possibility I’m right. Then there might be some chance he’d be ready if, and when, something really bad happens to the boy or to his school.”

Chapter 13
    Ike taxied the plane to its tie-down position on the flight line and shut down the engine. The prop shuddered to a stop, and he completed his postflight check. The lineman stepped up to the cockpit door as he climbed out.
    “Boss wants to see you.”
    “Trouble?”
    “FAA called is all I know.”
    The FAA had, indeed, called. They’d grounded Ike.
    “Why?” he asked, when he entered the office.
    “Don’t know, they just said I was to pull your ticket. Problem is, you don’t have, like, a real license so I’m not sure…” The facility’s manager stood behind his cluttered desk and looked embarrassed. “They said they had a complaint from someone over in Maryland about you buzzing some sailboats.”
    “There wasn’t a boat in sight. Well, not within a mile, anyway.” Ike sighed. “Consider the ticket pulled.”
    “Okay. Sorry about that. I guess you won’t be needing the plane any more.”
    “We have a contract. The plane is mine for at least two more weeks.”
    “But—”
    “I expect you’ll be receiving a call in a few hours or maybe by early tomorrow rescinding the grounding. I won’t need the plane again for a few days, anyway, so I’ll see you Thursday or Friday.”
    Ike walked to his car and called Charlie.
    “I need your help.”
    “Again? I’m beginning to feel like a scout master. What now.”
    “You’d make a very fine scoutmaster, Charlie. You ought to volunteer.”
    “What do you need?”
    “A call to the FAA. They grounded me today and it’s bogus. Even if it weren’t, I need to get back in the air in a few days. Either that or send me an unmarked plane that I can fly off the beach.”
    “You can do that?”
    “No.”
    “I’ll make some calls. Do you have anything to tell me, any progress? Your bills are piling up. The suits upstairs are beginning to wonder what the PR department is doing with all its money.”
    “PR my foot.”
    “It’s what we call it. What were you doing that got you grounded?”
    “Actually it was Trent Fonts that did the questionable flying, but I took the rap. We were flying at a low altitude looking for what I thought was wreckage. Then we flew over a piece of shoreline where Trent thought he saw a bit of airplane the day after Nick disappeared.”
    “You thought you saw wreckage?”
    “Operative word, thought. I can’t be sure. It’s a maybe at best, but we’re getting somewhere, I think.”
    “Talk to me.”
    “Okay. The original search turned up no evidence of a plane crash because they were looking in the wrong place. Nick went