Fly by Night
Laurinda Wallace
Fly by Night
Cover Design and Photo by Jesaro Photography
Author Photo by Hannah Whaley Photography
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise-without prior written permission.
For information contact:
L. Wallace ● PO Box 415● Hereford, AZ 85615
This is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.
Copyright ©2014 Laurinda Wallace
All rights reserved.
DEDICATION
For my Dad, with love.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, many thanks to my awesome beta readers,
and to my editor, Rose.
Table of Contents
prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
prologue
The splintered, half-rotted platform complained under the weight of its occupant. The deer stand had the perfect vantage spot. A trial run from the stand to the edge of the field and back again proved that it was perfect. Timing would be everything for this meeting. Then again, timing was everything—always.
A hand pushed the jagged leaves of the maple aside to reveal a better view of the field, which now lay in semi-darkness, the air heavy with the smell of hay ready for cutting. Exhaling slowly, the figure leaned back against the shaggy bark.
Fumbling in the pocket of the denim jacket, strong, latex-gloved fingers extracted two red-and-brass shotgun shells in a plastic bag and, reaching overhead to a cup-like crotch of branches, deposited the small package into the natural deep container.
Blue-and-white lights burst through the darkness and swept the field. A gasp of fear was quickly swallowed. A thin humming sound broke the silence.
The flashing stopped and the lights became steadier, slowly pulsating while hovering over the shadowy woods on the other side of the wide field. A cigar-shaped object glimmered under the blue-and-white lights. The faint, high-pitched hum competed with the steady chorus of peepers in the swamp that lay to the west of the deer stand. A flash of white light etched the black sky. And then all was quiet.
After a cursory check of the area around the base of the tree, the figure hastily descended from the treetop perch on short lengths of two-by-fours nailed into the tree trunk.
Slinking through the murky woods, the figure looked back only once to make sure no one was following. Shuddering, the silhouette then jogged down the narrow lane and disappeared into the darkness. The peepers resumed their serenade as if nothing had happened.
Chapter 1
“Mornin’, Chief. Take a look at the paper.”
Jim Taylor dropped the front page of the newspaper on his business partner’s desk. Gracie Andersen glanced up from the computer monitor and swung around to look at the headlines. A big black Lab stood and shook herself, rattling the tags on her red collar. She ambled from her corner bed to greet Jim.
“Hey, Haley,” Jim said, rubbing the dog’s head and then scratching her wagging butt.
“I saw that story. Things are getting pretty exciting for little ol’ Deer Creek,” Gracie replied.
“A little too exciting, maybe. The paper’s been full of the wind farm controversy for two months and today we’ve got little green men up in Greerson’s Meadow.”
Gracie laughed and pushed back her chair from the desk. “Don’t forget the lawsuit between D. B. and the environmental group. What’s their name? Renew Earth, I think. That’s even been on the TV news.”
“You’re right. Forgot about that. It’s been a bonus news week for the media.” Jim poured himself a mug of coffee and dumped a generous slug of half-and-half from the carton next to the coffeemaker. “I’d like to get a good look at those mysterious lights. I’m betting it’s a hoax or some military exercise.”
“Maybe it’s true. You need to keep an open mind.”
“Sure. Just like you do,” he teased. “Well, I’d better get back to cleaning runs.” He took a gulp from the mug before heading for the doorway.
“Kibble delivery comes at 9:30 today. Don’t keep Harry waiting,” Gracie called after his disappearing back.
“Got it!”
He began whistling a boisterous rendition of “Jimmy Crack Corn.” An enthusiastic chorus of yips, barks, and howls joined in as backup. Gracie shook her head and turned back to the computer screen.
The invoices for the week were now paid and there was a comfortable balance in the account—finally. It had been a tough start, but the kennel was officially in the black. She clicked the print button and waited for the small laser printer to slide out the report. The front door to reception jangled.
“Good morning, Gracie,” a young feminine voice sang out.
Haley eagerly trotted to the reception area to greet Trudy, their newest kennel assistant. She was young, pretty, and energetic. Trudy Wilcox had been a teller at the Deer Creek Bank, and when Gracie had advertised the job opening, she’d been the first to respond. She felt that standing behind a counter and counting money just wasn’t exciting enough. So far, Trudy was good with the dogs and customers.
The bell jangled again, signaling the arrival of Marian Majewski, the part-time groomer. Marian had been drawn out of retirement to work at Milky Way almost from day one. Gracie didn’t know what she’d do without the woman who kept the grooming portion of the business thriving. She grabbed the grooming and the occupancy schedules from her desk.
“Here’s the paperwork for today, ladies.” She handed them each a schedule.
“All right. Looks like I’ll be busy all day,” Marian said and tied on the black groomer’s apron.
“I think it’s getting busier every week, Gracie,” Trudy remarked as she glanced over the pick-up and drop-off schedule.
“That’s good, and July is already starting to fill up.” Gracie crossed her fingers on both hands and grinned.
“I’m not surprised. Our reputation is building the business. Midge gave us some good advertising yesterday when I stopped in for lunch,” Marian replied, exiting for the grooming room.
“Midge is our biggest fan. She always promotes us,” Gracie added.
Midge owned Midge’s Restaurant in Deer Creek and
had been Gracie’s very first customer. A successful two-night stay for her nervous Chihuahua, Taco, was Milky Way’s inauspicious opening. Gracie had refused to leave the poor dog alone in the huge empty kennel, so she’d just taken him in the house to hang out with Haley. After Haley had recovered from her initial shock to discover Taco was actually a canine, they had a rip-roaring good time, chewing bones and chasing squeaky toys.
“I’d better go help Jim,” Trudy said, looking at her watch.
“He’s down in ‘C,’ I think,” Gracie informed her, turning back to the office.
Marian rattled around in the grooming room, getting ready for her first customer.
“Did you hear about that UFO sighting on the radio today?” Marian stepped into Gracie’s office, holding a large pump bottle of shampoo.
“I read about it in the paper. Jim thinks it’s a hoax.”
“Not from what I’ve heard,” Marian countered. She leaned against the doorframe. “Quite a few people have seen those lights up at Greerson’s Meadow. Reputable people.”
“Since when?” Gracie poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Since a month ago, at least. Tobias McQuinn says he’s got pictures from the other night.”
“Toby’s not exactly what I’d call a reliable witness.”
Gracie would have a hard time giving him any validity as a witness in general. Tobias McQuinn was the local hermit, having lived up in the woods near Greerson’s Meadow in an Airstream trailer for years. He worked sporadically, picking up calf-feeding jobs and handyman projects. Mostly he cut firewood to sell. Every once in a while he’d claim he’d been abducted by aliens as a child.
“He’s a little strange, but he seems to know a lot about UFO stuff,” Marian sniffed. “Did you hear that D.B. Jackson is trying to buy that property from him too? D. B. wants to lease it to the windmill company that’s putting up wind farms all over the place.”
Gracie almost choked on her coffee. “You’ve got to be kidding. Why would D. B. want to stick those awful white giant windmills up there? The view and that pond …”
She was sputtering now. A ton of fond childhood memories centered around the Meadow. Her favorite was the night excursions in the summertime with her parents and brother to watch fireflies make it a fairyland with their twinkling lights. The road would be flanked with vehicles and families leaning out car windows to watch the show. Several times a year, biology departments from local universities conducted studies on the wildlife and plants. It was a natural gem, tucked away on a back road that saw little traffic and hardly any maintenance.
“Don’t worry. Tobias won’t sell to him,” Marian said confidently. “He’s a little eccentric, and not stupid. I think that environmental group is trying to stop it too. D. B. usually gets his own way, but I’d be surprised if he does this time.”
Before Gracie could respond, the bell on the door jingled, and Marian went to greet the customer.
*****
Haley stood panting at the rear entrance ready to go back to the house, while Gracie finished the final bed check on their canine guests and set the alarm. It had been a long day, and she could hardly wait to stand under a hot shower.
“Okay, girl. Let’s go.” Gracie pushed open the door, and Haley made a beeline for the kitchen steps.
The sun lingered in a gold-and-pink streaked sky. Gracie took a deep lungful of lilac-scented air and admired the scene. The old ranch-style house had been under renovation and now had a second floor with dormers and a wrap-around porch. The contractor had finished the outside construction and the upstairs addition. With another bedroom, bathroom, and large office, the house had doubled in size. It had seemed silly to add on for just one person, but somehow it seemed more like home to her. The rambling farmhouse she’d lived in for almost 16 years with her late husband was sometimes like a distant memory. It was hard to believe she’d lived at Milky Way without Michael for more than two years.
The gardens in the backyard were overgrown, but the lawn looked like a golf course. Her dad kept it mowed and the yew hedge near the driveway trimmed. She’d have to get the flower gardens in shape soon. There just wasn’t enough time to do everything. Gracie sighed. Her mother yearned to get her hands on the gardens and was itching to be asked. A lot of free advice came with the help. Asked or not, her mother would probably show up if she couldn’t find time in the next couple of weeks. The flowers struggled to be seen through the jungle-like mess. Somehow it had all gotten out of control during the house renovation and the building of the new training barn next to the kennel. She needed to check on when the fence guy planned to put up a new fence around the backyard too. He’d already postponed installation twice. With the new training facility finished, Gracie wanted a little more privacy from the bustle of the kennel. Cheryl, their most senior kennel assistant, was working hard to get kennel clubs and 4-Hers to use Milky Way’s latest venture.
Haley barked and pawed at the kitchen door.
“All right. I’m coming,” she told the dog. “You’re probably hungry, aren’t you?”
A school-bus-yellow compact car swung into the driveway before she was through the door. Haley offered a “somebody’s here” bark. Gracie shooed her inside and walked down the steps to the new flagstone path.
A lanky man with longish dark hair and a well-trimmed dark brown beard strode toward her across the crunchy driveway gravel. He had a clipboard tucked under his left arm. He was dressed in a light blue button-down shirt and gray dress pants.
“Hello. Mrs. Andersen?” He smiled and pushed his sunglasses up on his head.
“That’s me. Were you dropping off a dog tonight?”
“No, no. I’m Ben Richter. I live over on Stillwater Road. I’m hoping you’ll sign a petition to stop those wind farms from ruining our views and damaging the environment here.”
The massive white turbines that spiked the green rolling hills of dairy country seemed to be everywhere in rural Western New York. Gracie quickly sized up the man, whose tone and slightly haughty manner made her immediately go on the defensive. So this was D. B. Jackson’s current foe. The picture in the paper hadn’t captured the overconfident attitude that radiated from the man.
“You must live near the Jackson farm then,” she said, watching for his reaction.
“Unfortunately, yes. Mr. Jackson and myself … we don’t really see eye to eye. However, someone has to keep large businesses accountable.” The man shifted uneasily in what looked to be expensive alligator leather shoes.
“Let me take a look at the petition,” she said, reaching for the proffered clipboard. “Is it connected to any particular group?”
“It’s a concerned citizens’ petition,” he answered. “We’re trying to raise awareness about the dangers of these horrible windmills and their effects on our health and, of course, our wildlife.”
Gracie scanned the signatures. Ben and Autumn Richter were at the top. Tobias McQuinn was the third signature, and then there were a half-dozen names she didn’t recognize. The wording seemed innocuous enough, but she wasn’t getting a warm fuzzy. A logo at the bottom of the page confirmed her hesitation. A globe with an outer circle of stars filled the right corner. It was the Renew Earth logo she’d seen in the article about the lawsuit. Besides that, the guy’s attitude was a little high and mighty.
“You know, I really need to talk to my business partner about this. I understand your concerns and I share some of them, but I’m not comfortable signing right now.” She handed the clipboard back to the man whose smile had quickly turned to a scowl. Ben Richter stroked his beard and then recovered his smile.
“Sure. I understand. How long have you had the kennel?”
“Just a couple of years.”
“We’ll have to look into your services next time we’re out of town.”
“I’d love to give you a tour sometime. What kind of dogs do you have?” Dogs were an infinitely friendlier subject than wind farms and the environment.
“We’ve g
ot just one right now—Aristotle. He’s a shar-pei.”
The way the man said “shar-pei” was reminiscent of her cousin Isabelle’s imperious tone, making her bristle.
“We see quite a few of those,” she fibbed and enjoyed the look of disappointment on his face. Milky Way had hosted only one of these wrinkly canines, and they could see a lot more of them. “He’d be welcome anytime. Can I get you a brochure?”
Haley was whining at the screen door, begging to come out.
“No, thanks. I’ll have my wife give you a call if we need your services. Big dog you have there.” He waved his hand that held the clipboard toward Haley who pressed her muzzle against the screen.
“That’s Haley. She loves everybody, but she can be a little rambunctious.”
“Looks like it. Thanks for your time. I’ll stop back again.”
“Sure. Nice to meet you.”
From her kitchen window, she watched the small car loop around the driveway and head down Simmons Road.
Just as she stuck a fork into the plate of salad that was supper, her cell phone rang. The caller ID indicated it was Jim. He wanted her to join him to check out the mysterious lights at Greerson’s Meadow.
“Not tonight, Jimmy. I’m really beat. Let me know if you see E.T.,” she joked.
“Your loss,” he bantered back. “If I don’t show up in the morning, you’ll know I was abducted.”
“All righty. Have fun!”
She didn’t see a hint of any colorful lights in the sky later, when Haley made her final potty run for the night. Shivering in the chilly night air, she called for the dog. Maybe Jim was having more luck.
Chapter 2
“It was quite a show last night,” Jim announced triumphantly, pouring a cup of coffee.
It was already lunchtime and the first chance for a conversation between the partners.
“Really? So you saw flying saucers?” She arched an eyebrow at her tall, dark, and handsome partner.
Fly by Night (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 3) Page 1
