Firewatch Ch 20

Chief Ava Johnson looks curious as she watches the trees go by on the drive back to town.

“Are you familiar at all with an Aria Durano?” Flores asks, keeping her eyes on the road.

“No.”

“Hailee Siegel?”

“No.”

“You didn’t tip off the FBI that Hailee Siegel might be in the Barney area?”

“No.”

Flores looks over. The light in the car is dim, but the patch on the shoulder of Ava’s jacket seems to be of poor quality. She’s not sure if it’s mistakes in the stitching or if it’s been damaged in some way. “What about Ro Nielsen? You’ve never heard any of those names?”

“No.”

“What about local cattle farmers or ranchers? Have there been any reports of cattle being attacked or harmed in any way?”

“No.”

Flores hesitates. “What kind of calls do you typically receive here in Barney, Chief Johnson?”

“Cars get broken into. DV sometimes. Child abuse and neglect cases.”

“Doesn’t the state investigate those?”

“Yes, but if the allegations are criminal, I ride along.”

“How often do you have to cover firewatch?”

“Not often.”

“You don’t have any questions for me, Chief?” Flores asks, flipping on her turn signal.

“I thought you were asking the questions.”

“Well, I don’t want to be rude.”

“I don’t think you’re rude.”

“Chief, are you feeling OK?”

“I’m tired.”

“Sorry to keep you. I’m sure you want to get home. You know, I didn’t notice before. I was startled. You don’t have a bag or something? How long were you on firewatch?”

“Not long.”

“Couple days at least. Sounds tough. I couldn’t do it,” Flores says. She brings the car to a stop in front of the police station. “I’ll try not to keep you too long. Thank you for working with us on this. Chief?”

“You’re welcome.” Ava climbs out of the car and looks up at the station.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right? I’m a doctor. I know how that sounds. A psychiatrist, actually. If something’s wrong, I can take a look at you.”

“I’m OK.”

A moment passes. Flores looks expectantly at the chief, then at the door. Ava climbs the steps and halts.

A car door, probably a block away, slams. The streetlights are spaced out in Barney, but there’s one in front of the police station. Flores’s breath comes out in a cloud as seconds tick by.

“Chief?”

“My keys.” Ava turns back. “I must have left them behind.”

“At the, uh, the lookout tower?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” The car key is still in Flores’s hand. “Good thing everything around here is a short drive. Perks of small-town life, huh? Let’s go and get them.”