Breaking The Silence. Diane Chamberlain

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      “Cool,” Alex said. “About the same spot as last time?” He’d had to land on the median strip a month or so ago.

      “Right. Think you guys can get there in time to assist?”

      “If we fly, man. Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”

      “Okay, then,” Dylan said. “See you on the ground.”

      He slipped the radio onto his belt and checked the altimeter.

      “Is there a problem?” the man asked.

      “Very minor,” Dylan said. “Remember before we boarded I explained that an unexpected gust of wind might blow us off course?”

      They nodded. He had their complete attention, the sunset forgotten.

      “That’s what happened. So, we missed our usual landing site. I’m going to land on the median strip of one of the main roads.” He intentionally avoided saying try to land. They didn’t need to hear uncertainty in his voice.

      “You’re what?” the woman said. “What about the traffic?”

      “It won’t be a problem,” Dylan said. “You’ll see.” His voice was so calm that they seemed to relax a bit. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he continued. “See that line of trees up ahead?”

      The tops of the trees glowed a surreal pink from the sunset. The couple nodded.

      “I’m going to brush over the tops of them with the basket,” Dylan said. “That’ll slow us down a bit. On the other side of the trees is the highway and the median strip. Do you remember what I told you about a high-wind landing?”

      “Face the direction we’re landing in,” said the man.

      “Right,” Dylan said. “And bend your knees and hold on to the rope handles. And we’re going to be fine.”

      The woman looked at him with doubt in her eyes.

      “Honest,” he said.

      He let some air out of the balloon as they approached the trees, enough to allow the basket to coast across the treetops. Twigs snapped and leaves brushed against the wicker. He loved the sound, but the woman gripped the rope handle tighter.

      “You doing okay?” he asked the couple.

      “Doesn’t matter how we’re doing,” the man said. “You’re the one we’re worried about.”

      Dylan laughed. He lowered the balloon on the other side of the trees, flying above the two lanes of traffic. They were close enough to the cars that, had it been lighter, the surprised looks on the faces of the drivers would have been visible.

      The crew had not made it in time, but he hadn’t expected them to.

      “Bend your knees,” he said to his passengers. “And hold on.”

      Down they went, the balloon touching the ground and being carried only a few feet across the grass by the wind before stopping. Good landing, given the circumstances. His jelly-kneed passengers hugged each other, laughing in apparent relief.

      A few cars stopped along the median strip, their drivers and passengers getting out for a closer look. Dylan spotted Alex’s truck as it pulled in behind the line of cars. Brian’s van was right behind him.

      “Here come our rescuers,” he said to the couple.

      Once on the median strip, Brian grabbed the drop line, and Alex produced the stepladder to allow the couple to disembark.

      “Don’t know what you need us for,” Brian said, acknowledging Dylan’s safe solo landing.

      “I wonder about that myself sometimes,” Dylan joked as he helped his passengers from the basket.

      Once safely out of the basket, they celebrated the successful flight with the requisite champagne toast. The passersby kept a respectful distance from them, and Dylan knew that some of them would call him for their own balloon rides over the next few days.

      The couple got into Brian’s van for the ride back to Dylan’s barn, where their own car was parked.

      Dylan and Alex dismantled the balloon in the near darkness, Dylan glancing at his watch from time to time. He had a date tonight. It was not with Bethany, he was sure of that, but damned if he could remember exactly who it was with.

      No big deal, he thought as he helped Alex load the basket into the truck. He would know when she showed up at his door.

       11

      EVENTHOUGH RHONDA GIDDINGS NO LONGER WORKED AT THE Air and Space Museum, Laura was able to track her down at her new job.

      “How nice to hear from you,” Rhonda said. “How’ve you been?”

      “Fine,” Laura lied, not wanting to get into all that had changed in her life since she’d last seen Rhonda. “I was wondering if—”

      “When does the best viewing start for the latest Comet Brandon?” Rhonda asked. “I hear it’s going to be a good one.”

      “I hope so,” Laura said. “It should peak next summer.”

      “Fantastic.”

      “I’m calling for a favor, Rhonda,” Laura said. “I’m trying to get in touch with someone I met at a party at your house quite a while ago. Six years ago, actually.”

      “Wow,” Rhonda laughed. “I have to warn you, my memory isn’t what it once was. Who are we talking about?”

      “Dylan Geer.” Laura cringed as she said the name. She wondered how many people had been aware that she and Dylan had disappeared upstairs together the night of the party.

      “Dylan Geer! Why would you…oh, you must want a balloon ride, huh?”

      “A balloon ride?”

      “That’s not it?”

      “No, it’s something else. Something personal. Sorry.”

      “No problem. I don’t think I have a private number for him, but I do have his balloon business number. Hang on. Let me get my address book out of my purse.”

      Laura could hear her rummaging through her purse, then flipping through the pages of the book.

      “I took my husband up for his birthday last year,” Rhonda said.

      “So, he operates a hot air balloon business?” Laura asked. Not exactly what she’d imagined for Emma’s father, but interesting nonetheless.

      “Yes. He totally changed after he left the airlines, you know.”

      Laura was getting frustrated trying to sort the pieces of the puzzle together. “I don’t know much about him,” she said. “I didn’t know

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