4
“What do you think happened?” Brett called over the intercom as they climbed toward the site—the audio system from PS Engineering, very high end. She’d also always like the SIG headsets for their comfort and sound insulation.
“I never conjecture prior to a crash investigation,” Miranda hadn’t wanted the copilot seat—because she didn’t want such a clear view of the crash prior to assessing terrain and other external factors—but Brett had insisted. The rest of her team, Jon Swift, and Brett’s nine-year-old son Jeffrey were seated in the back. They were clear of the airport and beginning the mile-high climb to the crash site.
Now she could see the anticipated switchover to the dark conifers. Several fourteeners revealed themselves to the south—each popping into view like a giant Jack-in-
