"We're exploring all possibilities.Your name came up in our initial search of professionals in the field.Particularly when we started looking into trauma angles…accidents and things like that."
"Jesus."Sullivan leaned back in his chair."That's awful.How were they killed?"
"They were sent into the air using weather balloons and helium.The victims were sedated, attached to harnesses, and released at altitude.When they woke up, they had no way to get down safely."He watched Sullivan’s face closely, looking for any tells or signs of fear.
Sullivan's hands gripped the armrests of his chair, his knuckles going white."That's sick.That's absolutely sick."
"I know this is difficult, but I need to ask you some questions about your background and your current work."
"Why would I be a suspect?"Sullivan's voice had an edge to it now."I only ever operated hot air balloon tours.”
Miles kept his tone neutral and professional."I understand that.But we're aware of the accident you were involved in three years ago.The one where two passengers died when your balloon caught on fire and crashed."
Sullivan closed his eyes briefly.When he opened them again, they were wet."That was the worst day of my life."
"Can you tell me what happened?"
Sullivan took another drink of water, his hand shaking slightly as he raised the bottle to his lips."We were coming in for a landing in a field outside Temecula.Everything was fine until a sudden wind gust hit us from the side. It was one of those freak accidents, really.The gas…I still don't quite know what happened.But before I knew it, the balloon had caught on fire.The basket tipped a bit as the balloon tore.We were going down very fast and two of the passengers freaked out…not that I blame them.But they…they jumped right out. Don't know what the hell they were thinking.They hit the ground from about thirty feet up."
"I'm sorry."
"The investigation cleared me of any wrongdoing.It was ruled an accident caused by unpredictable weather conditions."Sullivan's voice was steady but Miles could hear the strain underneath."But that doesn't change the fact that two people died while they were in my care.A husband and wife.They were celebrating their anniversary...and it’s something I think of at least two or three times every day, even now."
Miles watched Sullivan's body language as he spoke.The man was visibly distressed by the memory.His breathing had quickened and a muscle in his jaw twitched.His hands were still shaking, his fingers twitching and fidgety.
"How has that experience affected your work?"Miles asked.
"I still work on adventure tour stuff…balloons, even.But just maintenance and planning the excursions."Sullivan stared out at the street, not really seeing it."I have nightmares about that day.About watching them fall.About hearing the impact when they hit the ground."
"That must be difficult to deal with."
"You have no idea."Sullivan turned to look at Miles directly."Do you want to know the really messed up part?I can't go up in a balloon anymore.Not even ten feet off the ground.The moment the basket starts to lift, I have a full panic attack.Heart pounding, can't breathe, the whole thing."
Miles felt something shift in his understanding of Sullivan as a suspect."Give me specifics about the sort of work you’re doing now.”
"I manage the ground crew.I prepare the equipment, I brief the passengers, I handle all the logistics.But when it comes time to actually fly, someone else takes the controls."Sullivan's hands were shaking more noticeably now.Just talking about it seemed to be triggering a physical response."My business partner does all the actual flights.I stay on the ground and coordinate from there."
Miles observed the tremor in Sullivan's hands again, the way his breathing had become shallow and rapid.This was not the behavior of someone who could calmly sedate victims and send them floating into the sky.This was someone genuinely traumatized by heights and the memory of people falling.Deep down, Miles could relate.
"Do you have an alibi for Sunday between six and midnight?"Miles asked, though he was already fairly certain Sullivan was not their killer.
"I was at my daughter's soccer game.It ran late because they went into overtime.I didn't get home until almost eleven."Sullivan's breathing was starting to slow as he focused on the question."I can give you the names of about twenty other parents who saw me there.Her mom, too.We’re divorced, and she spends the weekdays there."
“How about last night?”
“Last night, I’m embarrassed to say I was playing pickleball with some friends on the courts just down the street.Started at six and played until about 8:30.After that we grabbed a few beers at Otterman’s.”
“And how long were you there?”Miles asked.
“Until about nine or so.Hold on…” He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened up the Wallet app.He then found a receipt and showed it to Miles.“Sorry, it was closer to 9:30.”
“Do you mind giving me the names and numbers of the guys you were playing pickleball with?”
“Yeah, sure thing.Whatever you need.”He then recited three names and gave Miles their numbers.By the time he was inputting the last one, Miles was already pretty sure this was also a dead end…that Terry Sullivan was not their killer.
Then something occurred to Miles.Something that should have been obvious from the start but had been buried under his focus on the profile of someone working at heights.When Sullivan had mentioned the gas and the fire, it should have sealed the deal.
Hot air balloons did not use helium.
