Crop Circles, Cows, and Crazy Aliens
Page 5
I brought the subject up. ‘Do you wish me to include your wife's death as part of my investigation, Mr. Adongo?'
He was startled by the question. ‘I guess so.' He stammered as he looked at the others for support. Kieron placed a kindly hand on his arm.
‘I will do some research tonight and will be back in the morning. I need to question your staff.’
‘Why is that?’ Glen asked.
‘Because I need to rule out the very real possibility that this is an inside job. If someone is doing something to the cows, then they need to have access to them.’
‘Didn’t we just describe how it was aliens?’ Lara asked, her voice incredulous.
‘You did, but I’m afraid the likely explanation is something more terrestrial in nature.’
‘Why do we need a paranormal investigator then?’ She snapped back at me.
‘Because no one else will take the case.’ Kieron answered.
The final comment drew silence from everyone. I took that as my cue to leave.
As I left the table and Kieron walked me to the door, I could hear the wives muttering about being ripped off. They were not muttering quietly. Kieron's wife even accused him of falling for the pretty blonde's skinny arse.
I was glad to leave.
Outside it was already dark. The alien spotters were no longer visible by the fence, though I suspected they had only retreated as far as the tents I had spotted in the field across the road. It was only tea time, but evening was fast approaching, and it felt like time to go home and to see what James had found out this afternoon. Across the yard, I used my phone to light the way back to the footprint. The plaster had hardened already which allowed me to gingerly extract it from the mud without it breaking. In my bag, I had some evidence bags. They were basically zip-lock bags, but they proved handy when I found something that might have a fingerprint, or in this case, was covered in mud and cow poop.
As I made my way to my car, a light caught my attention. It had flashed on and then immediately off again like someone flicking a torch button quickly.
It came from over by the milking shed. I stopped to stare where I had seen the light. There it was again and now I saw a person move in the dark shadows. Were they trying to get my attention?
I took a pace towards the milking shed but was stopped by the sudden appearance of a man that had a cameraman right behind him.
‘Hi. Jack Hammer, Alien Quest. Can I ask you a few questions about your job here?’ The man had thrust a microphone under my chin and was smiling at me in a way that was supposed to be engaging, I guess. He didn't wait for me to answer the first question though, he just pressed on with the next. ‘What it is that you do here? Dairymaid?'
I stepped into his personal space and pushed the microphone to one side. ‘I don’t work here.’
His smile held even as I pushed by him and on towards my car. ‘Goodness.’ He exclaimed, then, ‘Come on, Bob.’
He ran to get ahead of me with his cameraman and tried again. Once more the microphone was thrust towards me. ‘So, my lovely, if you don’t work here, what brings you to this remote and foreboding farm? Are you another alien hunter, like me?’
This time I stopped. ‘Look, I don’t know who you are, and I have no desire to find out. I’m here as a private investigator hired by the farmers and I am leaving.’
‘Stop the camera, Bob.’ Before I could get away his whole demeanour changed, and he hit me with a look that could only be described as soul-searching. It made me wonder if he practised it. ‘I’m an investigator too.’ He said softly. ‘There are alien creatures visiting this place and I fear for the families. Will you help me?’
I had to pause and look at him. He sounded so sincere, so honest. He reached back to give Bob the microphone then extended his right hand to me. ‘Jack Hammer.’
I had little option other than to reciprocate. Anything else would have been extremely rude. ‘Amanda Harper.’ We shook hands.
‘Amanda Harper.’ He repeated my name and kept hold of my hand. ‘Amanda Harper.’
‘Yes, Amanda Harper. Can I have my hand back now please?’
He turned his head slightly to speak over his shoulder but did not take his eyes from mine. ‘Bob where do I know her name from?’
‘Works for Tempest Michaels.’
His eyes bulged at the news and his jaw hung slack. ‘You’re a paranormal investigator. Why didn’t you say?’
‘Nothing to tell.’ I replied, wondering how it was that I had come onto their radar.
‘Nothing to tell? You must be joking.’ He finally let go of my hand and switched his demeanour yet again, this time to serious. ‘Look, Amanda, I have been talking about having a co-host for my show for months now. You are the perfect fit for the role. You have credibility, you have presence.’ He looked me up and down as if appraising me. ‘I couldn’t come up with a better sidekick. Oh, Bob this is wonderful. Isn’t this wonderful, Bob?’
‘S’pose.’ Bob said.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Hammer. I already have a job.’
He barely even bumped from my rejection as he steamed straight towards signing contracts. ‘This is the chance of a lifetime for you. Don't blow this off without giving it some consideration. We had over two hundred thousand viewers last year.'
Two-hundred thousand? Not exactly a phenomenon.
‘I need to go.’
‘Really? You’re turning this down?’ I wondered if he meant the show or himself. ‘I could make you a star!’ I slid into my car, but he grabbed the door before I could close it. ‘Come on, darling. Your chest alone would get me an extra million viewers.’
I slammed the door shut, almost taking his head with it, then quite deliberately spun my wheel as I gunned the Mini’s engine to create a spray of cow shit that shot out the back of my car to pelt him as I escaped down the road and into the dark.
Whoever the figure by the milking shed was, there was no chance of speaking with them now. They would have to find me again later.
Phone Call to Mum. Wednesday, November 9th 1905hrs
Once home, I had emailed James to see what he had discovered, chopped some peppers and onions to make a stir fry for my dinner and elected to take a bath. The bath was the lazy option. I was supposed to be going to the gym since I had not bothered with it this morning, but I really didn't feel like it. I would go for a run in the morning. A good sleep would make me feel more motivated. Right now, I wanted to eat ice-cream on the sofa watching Ryan Gosling movies while telling myself I wasn't going to get left on the shelf. Seeing the yummy farmer and his pregnant wife had reminded of what was missing from my own life. I was twenty-nine and single. My most recent boyfriend had lasted no more than a handful of dates before fate threw a spanner in the works. But Brett had been the real thing for a few moments and that bothered me more than anything else.
Later, floating peacefully in the bath, I remembered I was supposed to call my mum. I had meant to call her a week ago. She was a worrier and I loved her, but she thought I was still a little girl and not able to take care of myself. It drove me nuts. A week ago, I was going to call to tell her about quitting the police force. She didn't like that I had chosen a career in uniform and had constantly sniped at it over the years. It didn't pay enough, it was unbecoming of a lady, I would never find a man if I kept arresting them. The last point had been tinged with irony a week ago as the man I was dating at that point was one I had arrested a week earlier. Brett Barker, a millionaire with a hot body and perfect manners.
Had I called then, I would have been able to deflect her questions about my new job with information about my boyfriend. It would have worked too, but now I would just have to suck it up.
After my bath, I was cooling down while wrapped inside a huge cotton towel. Another towel adorned my head and I had big socks on my feet to ensure they stayed warm. I would cook dinner after the call.
With a little resignation, I sat down and picked up my phone. I didn’t particularly want to, b
ut I had news that she would complain I hadn’t shared with her if I left it until she returned. She would also complain that I hadn’t called her enough, despite the fact that she was on a cruise ship and thus could be anywhere and I had no idea what she was doing at any point, while she could reliably predict that her spinster daughter would be at home every evening unless I was working a shift. Now she knew I had quit the police though and would have a stack of questions to ask.
I settled into the corner of the sofa with my legs tucked under me and the phone on my lap. It was on speaker, leaving my hands free to cradle the hot cup of coffee I had just made.
What time was it on east coast America? Were we four hours ahead or five? Or was it more than that? I could never remember but it was late evening here so I felt sure it was late afternoon wherever she was.
‘Hello?’ Mum’s voice came onto the phone. She seemed surprised to have received a call and as if she was now wondering who it was even though I knew she had caller ID.
‘Hi, Mum. It’s Amanda.’
‘Oh, hello, Mandy.’ I hated when anyone called me Mandy. Only my mother got away with it. ‘How are you? Why the call?’
Had she had a stroke? Had I imagined this afternoon’s conversation?
‘We spoke just a couple of hours ago, mum. I told you I quit the police service. You thought I was a prostitute. Does that not ring any bells?’
‘Oh, yes. Yes, so you are not with the police anymore then?’
She sounded distracted. There was music playing in the background, something from the eighties.
‘No, mum. I work as a private investigator now. I investigate my own cases and bill my clients for the hours I work.’
‘That’s nice, dear.’
That’s nice, dear?
‘We specialise in paranormal cases, ones with an unexplained element or where the client believes they have a paranormal problem.’
‘How interesting.’
I could swear she wasn’t taking in anything I said. ‘The case I am investigating now involves aliens tampering with cows.’ All I got to that revelation was quiet at the end of the phone. I changed tack. ‘How’s your holiday going?’
‘Oh, well it’s lovely, darling. I should have done this years ago.’ At least that got you talking, I thought to myself. ‘John always takes such good care of me. We had dinner with the Captain just last night. I have eaten so much lobster on this trip. More in the last month than the previous fifty years.’
‘That sounds nice, mum.' I let her prattle on for a while. She had lots to tell me about where they had been and what they had done and about how John was the on-board Quoits champion. I didn't know what Quoits was, but I also didn't ask for fear she might explain it.
Suddenly, she sensed that she had been speaking uninterrupted for many minutes. ‘Goodness, listen to me go on. How are you, dear? What are you up to? Is there a new man in your life?' I was exasperated that she was asking me questions when I had been trying to tell her the answers already. Her last question though was dragged out to demonstrate her hope that the answer might be positive.
I figured I might as well just talk to her about what she wanted to talk about. ‘No new man, I’m afraid, mum.’
No reply.
I could hear her giggling at something, her voice muffled like she was putting her hand over the phone. ‘Well, I did have a boyfriend briefly, but he saw me with someone else so dumped me and went to Coast Rica and I was kidnapped last week and stripped naked so I could be sacrificed by a voodoo priest.’
More silence and I worried that I had stunned her. ‘Sorry, dear.’ Mum finally said, ‘I wasn’t listening. John just went by on his way to the shower and I got distracted. What were you saying?’
FFS. She was too busy ogling her boyfriend’s bum to even hear my shocking news.
‘I said I got kidnapped and almost murdered.’
‘That’s nice, dear.’
‘Mum, are you listening to anything I say?'
‘What’s that, darling? Sorry, John is dancing for me now. I have to go.’ Just as the phone went dead, I heard her squeal with excitement. My mum’s sex life was better than mine. Surely, that can’t be right.
I gave the phone an accusing stare and felt my arm twitch with a desire to throw it at a wall.
Bollocks to it!
I was going to order take-out and drink a bottle of wine. There was a cold one in my fridge right now which suddenly had a limited life expectancy.
I rose from the sofa and stomped across my small apartment to find it. However, my doorbell rang before I got my hand on the fridge door and though I twitched with indecision, I went to answer it anyway.
I live in a safe apartment block in a safe part of town. I’m no fool though, so I put the safety chain on before I opened the door and peeked around it to see who was outside.
Not the Evening I had Planned. Wednesday, November 9th 1937hrs
Outside my door, with a massive bunch of flowers in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other was the only person in the world I wanted to see right now.
Outside my door was Brett Barker.
And he looked hopeful.
Neither one of us said anything for a second, then I was slamming the door shut so I could get the safety chain off and he was starting to speak.
‘Amanda, I’m so sorry. I made such a mistake.’
‘Shut up.’ I demanded as I threw myself at him. Then he couldn’t talk because we were kissing, and I was so overwhelmed with happiness that I thought I might cry. He didn’t know what to do with his hands as they were both full and he couldn’t put anything down.
He broke the kiss as I dragged him into my apartment and kicked the door shut. I snatched the champagne from his unresisting grip and dropped it on the sofa as we stepped around it, still mostly locked at the lips. The flowers… I don't actually know what happened to the flowers but neither they nor my towels were still with us when we got to my bedroom door and tumbled through it.
The Morning After. Thursday, November 10th 0614hrs
I woke to the sound of Brett snoring lightly next to me. My bed wasn’t big enough that we could share it and not touch each other so even though he was laying on his back on the other side of the bed, he was still partially intertwined with me.
I didn’t move. I just stayed where I was, watching him sleep and breathing in the scent of him. I felt glorious. I felt victorious.
I felt horny.
The realisation that I felt a desire for physical affection and could instantly do something about it made my tummy go swirly for a second. Not that I hadn’t got my fill last night. I just wanted more. He was like candy, only this candy wouldn’t make me fat.
I gently eased back the duvet to reveal his toned torso. He was every bit as fabulous as I remembered. I didn’t want to wake him, but maybe if I accidentally caused him to come awake…
I tugged the duvet a little more. What I wanted to see was just a few inches further south.
Mmmm inches.
‘Find something you like?’ He asked, his husky voice dripping with passion.
I bit my bottom lip as I locked eyes with him. Then he moved with sudden speed, flipping me onto my back and pinning me in place.
The rest, if you will allow me to paraphrase, was ecstasy.
Forty minutes later I was in the shower, getting clean and trying to think about work when the shower door opened behind me and it all started again. This time vertically instead of horizontally.
When I finally got to work a few minutes before nine o’clock, my legs were wobbly, and I was starving because I had missed dinner completely and only grabbed a banana for breakfast. I needed to check in with James, since I hadn’t even looked at my emails since last night and I needed to find food.
And coffee. Definitely coffee.
Before I had left the apartment, or more accurately, before I let Brett leave, I had asked him how it was that he had come to believe I had not been cheating. He seemed reluc
tant to tell me the whole picture but said that he had come by information that proved he had been a fool. He distracted me with more kisses. Kisses that were heating up again and which caused me to insist he go before we were naked once more.
Driving to work, I thought about how Brett could have come to know I was not cheating on him. The answer I kept coming back to, was that Tempest or Big Ben had contacted him. Tempest seemed the more likely of the two to perpetrate the crime and he and Brett were not friends, so it felt right that Brett would be more inclined to believe him. Who else could it have been? A better question was whether I should be angry about it or not. I needed to think about that.
I found James in the office already, the dim November dawn light just starting to brighten the office naturally from outside while he sat under the bright white LED lights inside. He looked up as I crossed the office.
‘Where do you get your eyeshadow?' I asked. James had been dressed as a girl more often than not since I met him but, on the occasions that he turned up as a boy, he never wore make-up. Until this week, that is. I suspected it was something to do with the events of last week when he had also been kidnapped and was to be ritually murdered. They hadn't spotted that he was a man beneath the dress and blonde wig until they stripped him naked. Now he came to work as a boy with boy hair and a full face of make-up.
Thing is, he wore it better than me.
‘It’s Mac.’ He replied. That explained a lot. I couldn’t afford Mac. A little voice on my right shoulder whispered that I had a multi-millionaire boyfriend again so could have whatever I wanted probably.