Page 101 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
“Liar,” he replied, kindly enough, so she chanced a smile and was relieved to get one back.
Chapter 40
“Now! What have you lot got for me?”
“Allsortsof exciting things,” Nadia said. “By which I mean the coroner’s report and more distressing photographs.”
“Lovely. Er…” Berne made a point of looking around Lila’s humble living room. “Are ye sure this is the best place to meet? Shouldn’t we be at IPA?”
“I think you’re gonna be glad we’re meeting here, Magnus,” Oz replied, sounding terribly serious, which wasn’t sexy at all, except it was, sofuck.
Berne turned a friendly gaze on Lila. Gah, the guy was so big he was blocking the sunlight from the window. “And you’re here for this meeting, too, lass?”
“It’smy house, Berne.” Why were none of them getting this? She was starting to think it was pathological.
“O’course, o’course. It’s kind of you t’offer it up. I havna said so and I’m remiss—I’m grateful for all you’ve done for Sally. Especially since you’re not. Ah.”
Lila didn’t say anything, so they could all feel the enormity of the elephant in the room. Fifteen. Excruciating. Seconds. Went. By.
“Right,” Oz said, and you could almost hear the collective gasp as everyone started breathing again. “So, updates. First, thanks again for flying us to the crash site.” He had riffled through Nadia’s file of photos, found what he was looking for, put it on the vintage trunk Lila used as a coffee table. She hoped to be buried in it someday. (Roomy!) “D’you mind telling me what this is?”
They all leaned forward to look down at the pic, which was kind of funny, given that at least three people in the room had already seen the photograph. To Lila’s eyes, it was just another pic of twisted metal and torn cloth, with something that looked like a mangled backpack, all smooshed and flattened at the edge of the frame.
Wait. Not a backpack.
“That’s a parachute,” Berne said, staring fixedly at the picture.
“Uh-huh. A parachute in your plane. The plane you lent to the Smalls.”
Berne was still staring.
“Do you often carry parachutes on your planes?”
Ten. Excruciating. Seconds. Went. By.
“Magnus?”
“As a matter of fact.” Berne looked up. “Yes.”
“More than one?”
“Usually two.”
Oz took a few seconds to digest that. “Why?”
“In addition to being a ferry pilot, I take people jumping.”
“Wait,what?” Lila could have bitten her tongue; the filter in her brain hadn’t engaged quickly enough. But Oz just looked at her expectantly.Keep goingwas (probably) written in his body language. OrKeep out.She sometimes got those mixed up.
“Lila? Something to add?”
He’s looking at me like he’s giving me a cue. Like I’m part of the IPA team. Or an aviation expert. Which is deeply nuts.“It’s just. When I heard Sally’s parents went down in a single engine, that’s the first thing I wondered about. But it doesn’t fly, no pun intended. An unmodified Cessna? Going down? That’s a terrible plane to jump out of. And a terrible altitude. There probably wouldn’t be enough time for the chute to deploy.” She looked around the room full of people giving her 100 percent of their attention. It was gratifying and nerve-wracking at the same time. “And depending on what was wrong with the plane, it was probably safer to stay on board. Planes are designed to glide even if the engine quits. It’s a much safer bet to stay put.”
“Because a parachute is not a magic wand,” Oz prompted.
“Well. Yeah.”
“For Stables,” Berne said, and Lila cursed herself for overlooking that rather large fact.
