The Color of a Promise (The Color of Heaven Series Book 11) by Julianne MacLean Page B

West Coast.”
    Jack stared at me with a furrowed brow, inclining his head slightly, as if he were still trying to figure me out.
    Was he like this with everyone? I wondered. Maybe that’s why he was such a good interviewer. He had a curious mind.
    I saw the other reporter jump out of the back of the news truck just then, and shut the doors. He stood for a moment, checking his phone, still keeping us waiting.
    “It’s weird,” Jack said, staring intently at me. “I know we’ve never met before, but there’s something very familiar about you. I can’t put my finger on it.” His gaze roamed over my face, and he seemed to be hoping I would have something to say about that.
    “Oh…” Unfortunately, I was speechless.
    I couldn’t deny I felt strangely flattered by his interest in me.
    “You’re familiar to me as well,” I finally said. “But I think you’re familiar to most people in America.”
    He nodded, and gazed off in the direction of the crash site across the water. “Maybe we knew each other in a former life.”
    I chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”
    The other reporter climbed into the chopper just then. “Sorry about that.” He took a seat next to the pilot in the forward cabin. “I was just reading my texts. They found one of the wings in the ocean.”
    “Excellent,” I said. “What about the tail or the black box?”
    “I don’t know about that,” he said. “They didn’t mention it.” He turned around and shook my hand. “Hi, I’m Joe.”
    “I’m Meg. I’m with the National Transportation Safety Board.”
    “I know,” he replied. Then he spoke to Jack. “I told the crew at the lighthouse that we’d get some aerial footage of them bringing it up. It’s quite a ways out, apparently. And they’re still working on collecting the rest of the floating debris.”
    “They’ll be working on that for a while,” I said, knowing there must be body parts as well. But I chose not to mention that.
    Someone outside the chopper shut the doors for us, and I put on my headset.
    “Will you be analyzing the data from the black box when they find it?” Jack asked me.
    “No, we have different specialists for that,” I explained. “They’ll take it back to Washington and look at it there, along with the cockpit voice recorder. And of course, the FBI will be involved.”
    “Because it might have been a bomb,” Jack said, studying my face.
    “We don’t know that yet,” I said firmly. “It’s far too early to form any conclusions. Explosions can be caused by all sorts of things, so it’s very important that we examine every inch of the wreckage and explore all possibilities in order to determine the true cause. It’s crucial that we don’t make premature assumptions that might lead us or the public down the wrong path.”
    Jack nodded. “Okay,” he said firmly. “I get what you’re saying.”
    That was easy, I thought.
    The pilot started the chopper engine, and it was very noisy beneath the spinning rotors. I had to speak to Jack through the headset.
    “We’re going to need some time to put all the puzzle pieces together,” I added. “We can’t rush it.”
    He was listening to me carefully. I felt that he was reading my expression through my eyes, listening to the nuances in my voice, even though he could only hear me through the wire.
    The helicopter lifted off the ground just then, and I jumped at the sensation.
    Jack touched my arm and regarded me with concern. “Are you okay?”
    I nodded, embarrassed. “Yes. I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting it right at that second.” I had come to realize a long time ago that although I had “conquered” my fear of flying, I hadn’t actually gotten rid of it. I’d simply taught myself how to cope. “And I guess I’m a bit jittery today. The first day at a crash site is always…” How to put it? “ Difficult. ”
    We rose into the air, flew over the sandy beach and across the water toward the crash site, where I had been working