Page 105 of Sexy as Sin
Brett had gone still, his eyes watchful. “And?”
“And,” she said slowly, “the baddie sabotaged the fuel tanks. People jumped, or fell, I can’t quite remember. Through trees. When we were going down yesterday, I kept thinking,I’ve seen this before.Somebody died, but it was somebody the villain hadn’t meant to kill. His wife, who’d stowed away. Dunno how you stow away on a balloon. She hit her head, and had her skull drilled through.”
“Uh...” Brett said.
“With an electric drill, to relieve pressure on her brain. Thanks for not doing that.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked diverted for a moment. “That’s the most random thing I’ve ever heard of.”
“Yes.” She wanted to jump up. She didn’t. “It’s so random, you’d only think of it if you heard about a hot-air balloon ride and were reminded of it. How do you prove somebody did it, though?Ifthey did? That balloon has to be gone. Halfway to New Zealand by now.”
“Nobody was thinking,” he agreed, “about rescuing the balloon.”
His phone rang, and he glanced at it, then picked up. “Hi,” he said. “I was going to call you. I’d like you to come get us. Soon as you can.”
On the phone, Dave said, “That’s why I’m ringing you. The Civil Aviation Safety Authority’s talking to everybody, a mate of mine says. They’ve been having a yarn with Andy, and they’re on their way to interview Amanda and Tom now. They’ll be by to talk to Willow soon, I reckon. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Head over here now,” Brett said. He should have kept the car, but he’d been so glad, yesterday, to have Dave handle all that. Binary decision-making or not, he wouldn’t have done too well at finding the hospital with Willow in the car, or even at driving her home.
“Already on my way,” Dave said. “Fifteen minutes.”
Brett hung up and said, “Dave’s coming to get us. The authorities are trying to figure out what happened. I think we should go help them out.” He eyed her shirt, which was, again, one of his white button-downs, and all she was wearing. He hadn’t had anything else to put her into when he’d brought her home. “You may want to wear a pair of my shorts, or your jeans are dry, if you can manage. I’m not sure how your sweater made out in the salt water. Let me know if you want my help.”
By the time he’d got her into the back of Dave’s car again, wearing his shorts, because it was easier, with his shirt hanging over them, she was gasping. He knew it hurt too much, pain pills or no, but there were all these threads hanging out there, and it was time to start collecting them.
“You could... tell me what’s going on,” she said, leaning back against the seat.
“Deep breaths,” he reminded her. “I’d like you to be surprised. It’ll work better. More effective, and more natural to anybody watching.”
“I should think about this,” she said, closing her eyes, “but I don’t feel well enough.”
Dave looked at Brett in the rearview mirror, and when they got there, Brett said, “Come in with us, if you don’t mind.” He wanted all the ammunition he could get.
When he rang the bell, nothing happened for minutes. Finally, though, Amanda came to the door, looking fragile, harassed, and pale without her makeup, in a T-shirt and shorts.
“Willow.” She blinked, her face crumpling before she restored her expression. “Hi. You didn’t answer my texts. I wasn’t sure what...”
“Two cracked ribs,” Willow said, “and a general air of being put through a meat grinder. How about you?”
“Shaken up,” Amanda said. “Bruised. You pushed me out.”
“I did.”
“Thank you.” Amanda put her hand to her head, and seemed surprised that her hair was in a ponytail. “I think... I would have died.”
“I think we both would have,” Willow said. “We were lucky that Andy took us down over water.”
“But Willow is pretty rocky herself,” Brett put in. “May we come in?”
“Oh.” Amanda didn’t seem to know what to do. “There are some people here asking questions, from the safety board.”
“Two birds with one stone, surely,” Brett said. “Or four, as we were all there. This is Dave, my driver. You saw him yesterday.”
“Oh,” Amanda said again, and then manners must have taken over, because she stood back, opened the door, and said, “Please come in.”
They walked through a severe, white-walled, hard-surfaced space that made Brett’s Portland condo look cozy, then into a living room where Tom was sitting on a couch with two men in business clothes facing him, sitting more upright than you normally saw, on dining chairs. Tom got up at their approach, ran a trembling hand through his hair, and said, “Willow. It’s good to see you up and about. Yesterday was... it was...”
Brett said to the two men, who had also stood politely, but whose eyes were watchful, “Brett Hunter. And Dave Carson. We were both there yesterday before the balloon launch, and at the end. Witnesses. We heard you were here, and thought we’d make your job easier. Two fewer stops. Three, because this is Willow Sanderson, who was actually in the balloon. Willow should sit down, though. She suffered some injuries in the fall.”
