Chapter 14 - The Parachute
Her name was Lorraine Beck.
She had worked at Mercer Ridge Adventures for twenty-two years.
Now sixty-eight, Lorraine lived quietly outside Colorado Springs.
Detective Alvarez reached her before Margaret did.
“Do you know Margaret Mercer?”
Lorraine laughed.
“Unfortunately.”
“Has she contacted you?”
The humor disappeared.
“When?”
“Recently.”
Lorraine hesitated.
“Three weeks ago.”
Alvarez leaned forward.
“What did she want?”
“To ask about old parachute equipment.”
“Why?”
“She said Mercer Ridge might display some vintage gear.”
“Did she ask anything technical?”
Lorraine looked uneasy.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Whether an old canopy could still deploy.”
Alvarez wrote.
“Anything else?”
Lorraine swallowed.
“She asked what would happen if one steering line failed.”
The detective stopped.
“What did you tell her?”
“That no child should ever be using that equipment.”
“Did she mention a child?”
“No.”
“Did she ask how to cause a failure?”
“No.”
Lorraine rubbed her hands.
“But she asked whether someone could survive a partial deployment.”
Alvarez’s expression hardened.
“What did you say?”
“That it depends on altitude, terrain and luck.”
Hailey had survived on luck.
And trees.
Forensic examination of the parachute produced another discovery.
The damaged steering line had not failed from age.
It had been partially cut.
Not enough to break while Hailey stood on the cliff.
Enough to snap under load after deployment.
The intent was horrifyingly clear.
Margaret had not simply planned to push Hailey.
She had tried to reduce the chance that the parachute could save her.
Grant received the news in silence.
Then walked into a hospital bathroom and vomited.
Elise found him sitting on the floor.
“She cut it.”
Elise closed the door.
“She cut the line.”
Grant stared at her.
“That means when she put Hailey in that harness…”
He could not finish.
Elise sat beside him.
“She already knew.”
“She hugged her that morning.”
Elise’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“She braided Hailey’s hair.”
“I know.”
Grant pressed both hands against his face.
“She was preparing her for a murder.”
Elise leaned against him.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Hailey was not told the full detail.
Her therapist advised the family not to burden her with forensic specifics unnecessarily.
She knew the parachute malfunctioned.
She knew it saved her enough to reach the trees.
That was enough.
Margaret, meanwhile, appeared on another camera near a bus terminal.
This time officers caught up.
At 3:17 p.m., she was arrested while attempting to board a bus under a false name.
She did not resist.
She wore a gray coat and carried one bag.
Inside were $18,000 in cash.
A prepaid phone.
Two forged identification cards.
And one photograph.
Hailey.
Age six.
Standing between Margaret and Thomas at Christmas.
Detective Alvarez asked why she carried it.
Margaret smiled faintly.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
At the county jail, she requested an attorney.
When informed of the attempted-murder evidence, she did not react.
When told the parachute line had been cut, her eyes changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Her attorney later entered a not-guilty plea.
The defense strategy emerged quickly.
Margaret would claim she never intended to kill Hailey.
She would argue she pushed the child only after Hailey lost balance.
The video, according to her attorney, captured an emotionally charged moment but did not establish premeditation.
The cut line?
Old equipment.
The forged documents?
Separate financial disputes.
The phone call with Caleb?
Misinterpreted.
The journals?
Private thoughts taken out of context.
Grant nearly exploded when he heard.
“She said, ‘I had to push her.’”
Rebecca nodded.
“And prosecutors will use that.”
“She cut the parachute.”
“They’ll use that too.”
“How can she deny it?”
“Because defendants can.”
Grant paced.
Rebecca watched him.
“This is why evidence matters more than outrage.”
Grant stopped.
“We have evidence.”
“A lot.”
“Then she’s finished.”
Rebecca did not promise that.
Courtrooms were not cliffs.
Nothing happened in one dramatic push.
Every fact would be challenged.
Every witness examined.
Every inconsistency used.
Hailey might have to testify.
That frightened Grant more than anything.
That evening, he told her.
“You may not have to.”
Hailey looked at him.
“But maybe?”
“Yes.”
“Will Grandma be there?”
“Probably.”
Hailey went quiet.
Then she asked:
“Can she make me say I’m lying?”
“No.”
“Can her lawyer?”
“No.”
“Can they call me a liar?”
Grant hesitated.
“They can ask hard questions.”
Hailey looked toward the window.
Then back.
“Okay.”
“You don’t have to be brave for anybody.”
Hailey shook her head.
“I’m not doing it to be brave.”
“Then why?”
“Because she told me to keep my mouth shut.”
Grant felt his throat tighten.
May you like
Hailey looked directly at him.
“I’m done doing what Grandma tells me.”
