Page 35 of Girl, Unseen

She wet her lips as she searched for the right words. ‘I'm so sorry. Were you close with him?’

‘Yes. I saw him all the time. Now he’s…. gone.’

Gone. Such a simple word for such a big, ugly thing.

Tessa nodded slowly. She knew a thing or two about sudden loss. She was surprised she could still make her pregnancy joke after everything she’d been through. ‘Do you need to be with your folks right now? I can radio the office, have someone drive you home.’

Hermes shook her head again, ponytail lashing. ‘My mom's place is just down the road. I can walk.’

‘You sure?’ Tessa couldn't imagine being alone after news like that. Death of natural causes was one thing. Falling onto some rocks was another. But grief wore different faces, she guessed. Who was she to tell this kid how to wear hers?

‘Yeah.’ Hermes swiped at her eyes with the back of one gloved hand. ‘You should still fly though. Don't let me ruin your day too.’

Tessa's instinct was to protest. To insist on driving the girl home herself, or at least calling her a cab. But something in Hermes's expression stopped her. A brittle kind of determination, like she might crack clean through if pushed too hard.

So she just nodded. ‘If you're sure. I do need to get the old girl in the air. Need to fly at least ten hours a week to keep my pilot’s license.’

It was a white lie but a necessary one. The balloon did need to fly – she had to transit it to a festival three counties over by nightfall. But Hermes didn't need to know the specifics. Better to let her believe she was doing Tessa a favor.

The girl managed a wobbly smile. ‘Thanks. For understanding.’

‘Of course.’ Tessa fought the urge to hug her. She kept her distance, respecting the clear desire for space. ‘You take care of yourself, okay? And if you ever want to reschedule that flight, just give the office a call. It's on the house.’

‘I will. Thanks again.’

And with that, Hermes was striding across the field with her shoulders hunched like she was trying to fold in on herself. Tessa watched her until she disappeared over a hill, feeling like she'd just watched a car crash in slow motion. There was a reason she preferred flying to driving.

With a sigh, she turned back to the balloon. The show must go on and all that. She'd radio the office once she was airborne, let them know about the situation. Maybe they could comp the girl a voucher for a free flight down the line. A little good karma never hurt.

She hauled herself into the basket and began the final flight checks. Fuel gauge, check. Altimeter, check. GPS and radio, double check. She ran through the sequence on autopilot.

Time to fly. Tessa guessed it was just her and her thermos of coffee for the next two hours.

There were worse ways to spend a Wednesday afternoon, she reasoned, but Tessa knew she’d be thinking of that poor girl the whole flight.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Felix might have looked like a strong wind could knock him over, but he ran like the devil himself was on his heels. He cut between two rusted silos and vanished behind the main barn. Behind her, she heard Luca telling the father to stay put, followed by the kind of language that suggested the old man wasn't listening.

‘Stay put,’ she shouted at Luca. ‘I’m going after him.’

She didn’t give Luca a chance to respond, but she saw in her peripheral vision the image of him holding Felix’s dad at gunpoint. That was good enough for now, so she hurried in pursuit of Felix, trying to predict his movements.The burns on her legs sent lightning bolts of pain up her spine with each stride, but it subsided when she caught a glance of Felix trying to climb over a fence behind the barn.

‘Felix! Freeze!’

The suspect abandoned ship, dropped off the fence and hurried away on foot again. Ella sped in pursuit and found that themud wanted to keep her boots. Each step felt like running through wet cement. Felix bee-lined for a stack of empty feed containers and vaulted over them with the grace of someone who'd done this before. Ella reached the same mark and pushed off the containers. Twenty feet between them. Fifteen. Then her boot skidded on a patch of mud, and the world tilted. She caught herself against an ancient tractor and used the momentum to launch into a faster sprint.

‘Last chance, Felix! Stop!’

She could end this now. Her hand brushed her weapon, but she pushed the thought away. Too many variables – buildings full of who-knew-what and the ever-present risk of a ricochet in this maze of metal and wood. Besides, dead men told no tales about dead professors.

He reached the barn door and plunged into darkness. Ella pulled up short at the entrance. The smell hit her first – hay and horse and a century of farm life compressed into one sucker punch to the sinuses. Weak sunlight filtered through gaps in the roof. Dust motes danced in the beams like stars gone wrong.

Movement above. Felix scrambled up a ladder toward the hayloft.

‘FBI! Don't make me-,’

A hay bale crashed down where she stood. Ella dove sideways and rolled behind a stack of crates. More bales followed, thuds echoing through the barn like artillery fire. If Felix wasn’t her man – and she had a good feeling he was, because innocent people didn’t run – she had him on assault of a federal agent.

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