Miles checked the time again.6:58 p.m.They'd been at this all day and had precious little to show for it.He knew investigations took time, knew that building a solid case required patience and methodical work.But the pressure of knowing another victim could be selected at any moment made patience feel like a luxury they could not afford.
"Let me try a different approach," Vic said.She opened a new search on her laptop."What if we look for people who were denied pilot licenses or flight certifications?Someone who wanted to work in aviation but couldn’t for medical or legal reasons.Maybe the killerenvieshis victims"
"Good idea," Miles said."That fits the profile of Kane's other disciples.They tend to be people who failed at something they desperately wanted and then found meaning in his philosophy."
Kim made another note on her legal pad."I can pull FAA medical certification denials.Those are public record in some cases."
The three of them fell back into focused silence, each pursuing different angles of the investigation.Miles read through the autopsy reports again, looking for any detail they might have missed.Vic searched databases for individuals with aviation-related grievances.Kim worked through her multiple screens, building queries and cross-referencing results.
The coffee grew cold in Miles's cup and the remaining granola bars remained untouched.The clock moved past seven, and the sky outside darkened from orange to purple.Miles looked out to that sky and thought about the victims falling from it—and of the terror they must have felt as they realized there was no way down until those balloons started popping.He thought about the killer watching from below, convinced they were doing righteous work in service of Kane's twisted philosophy.
Lastly, he thought of Kane back on the East Coast.The idea that Kane knew this would happen and probably even knew the name of the killer was maddening.But all Miles could do was to keep digging…and to remind himself that each disciple they brought down was one more dent in that smug bastard’s armor.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lisa Anderson chalked her hands one last time and looked up at the route she had just completed.The climbing wall stretched thirty feet above her, covered in colorful holds that ranged from easy paths to razor-thin crimps.She had made it to the top without falling, but her forearms burned from the effort and her fingertips felt raw despite the tape.
The Silver Lake Climbing Center occupied a converted warehouse that had been transformed into a climber's paradise about five years ago, and Lisa came by at least once every week.Some people hit weights at the gym and others ran on trails.But Lisa had always loved the climbing walls.
The main wall of the gym dominated the open space, but smaller bouldering sections lined the perimeter with thick crash pads underneath.The air smelled like chalk dust and rubber, and music played from speakers mounted near the ceiling.A dozen other climbers were scattered throughout the facility, some working routes on the walls while others rested and discussed beta for particularly difficult problems.
Lisa was thirty-one years old with lean muscle built from years of climbing.Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her tank top revealed arms that were all sinew and definition.Chalk dust covered her hands and streaked across her shorts.She had spent the last two hours working on a route that mimicked the kind of overhanging terrain she would face during her upcoming trip to Yosemite.Her knuckles burned and the blisters on her hands were singing, but she loved it all.
"Nice send," called out Larry Givens.He was one of the regulars who had been climbing at the gym as long as Lisa had.He was coiling his rope near the bouldering area, getting ready to leave for the night.
"Thanks," Lisa said.She walked over to where she had left her water bottle and gym bag near the wall."I thought I was going to blow it on that roof section, but I managed to stick the dyno."
"You made it look easy," Givens said.He shouldered his bag and headed toward the exit."Same time Thursday?"
"I’ll be here," Lisa said.
Larry waved and pushed through the glass doors that led to the parking lot.Lisa took a long drink from her water bottle and started gathering her things.Her fingers ached as she untied her climbing shoes and slipped on her regular sneakers.She had pushed herself hard tonight, maybe harder than she should have with the Yosemite trip only two weeks away.But the training was necessary if she wanted to tackle El Capitan's Nose route, which had been her goal for the past year.
She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the exit, waving to the staff member behind the front desk.The evening air was cool against her sweaty skin as she stepped into the parking lot.The sun had set while she was inside, and streetlights cast orange pools across the asphalt.Only a handful of cars remained, scattered across the lot in no particular pattern.
Lisa walked toward her Honda CR-V, fishing her keys from her bag.She was thinking about dinner and a hot shower back at her apartment when a voice called out behind her.
"Excuse me.I’m so sorry to bother you."
Lisa turned and saw a man approaching from the direction of a white van parked three spaces away.He looked to be in his mid-thirties with sandy hair and a friendly expression.He wore jeans and a light jacket, and his hands were visible and empty.
"What’s up?"Lisa said.She kept her keys in her hand, ready to use them as a weapon if needed.Growing up in Los Angeles had taught her to be cautious with strangers, especially in parking lots after dark.
"I caught a glimpse of you as you were leaving the gym," the man said.He stopped about six feet away, maintaining a respectful distance."I was really impressed.That route you were working looked incredibly difficult and you justsangthrough it."
Lisa relaxed slightly.The gym had large windows facing the parking lot, and it was not unusual for people to watch the climbers inside.Still, she remained alert.
"Thank you," she said."It took me a few tries to figure out the sequence."
"I’ve been thinking about taking up climbing," the man said."Right now, I still only use the novice route…barely harder than the kiddie walls.Could I ask you a few questions about equipment?I know this is random, but I figured I should ask someone who clearly knows what they are doing."
Lisa hesitated.The request seemed genuine, and the man maintained his distance without moving closer.But there was something about the situation that made her uncomfortable.She could not pinpoint exactly what it was, just a vague sense that this felt more like a pickup attempt than a genuine interest in climbing.
"I guess I can answer a few questions," Lisa said.She positioned herself so that she had a clear path to her car if she needed to leave quickly.
"Great, I really appreciate it," the man said."So, what kind of equipment would you recommend for someone just starting out?I’ve been looking at harnesses and ropes, but there are so many options."
Lisa answered automatically, explaining the basics of climbing gear while keeping half her attention on the man's body language.He nodded along, asking follow-up questions that suggested he had done at least some research.Maybe he really was interested in climbing and not just hitting on her.It did look like he was paying close attention—and to what she wassayingnot just how she looked.