Fletcher: Stargazer Alien Mystery Brides #2 (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

by Tasha Black

  “Hello, Fletcher,” Hannibal said. “Do you want toaster waffles?”

  Hannibal gestured at a plate on the coffee table. It looked like his brothers had toasted all the waffles in the box.

  “I don’t have time,” Fletcher replied proudly. “I am going on a stakeout.”

  “Is that like a cookout?” Spenser asked, sitting up quickly. “Can you bring us back some steak?”

  “No,” Fletcher said. “That’s what I thought, too. But really it’s spying.”

  “Oh.” Spenser sat back and took a bite of his waffle.

  “Who are you spying on?” Hannibal asked suspiciously.

  Fletcher didn’t blame him. Spying was the opposite of good manners. Everyone knew that.

  “A man who Vi suspects is involved in stealing those cars,” Fletcher explained. “I am going with Jana, and you and Vi are going to look at another clue.”

  “We are?” Hannibal asked.

  “And what am I doing?” Spenser asked in a grumpy way.

  Fletcher’s heart ached for his brother Spenser, who was having a harder time adjusting to this new world.

  Spenser had not yet found a mate. And though he expressed happiness at his brothers’ joy, it was clear that the big alien needed a mate of his own to ease his transition to Earth.

  “Did you not promise to go to the garden store with Micah and Tony?” Hannibal asked Spenser.

  “Oh, yes,” Spenser remembered, looking more cheerful.

  Tony had said the best hamburgers in town could be obtained at the restaurant next to the garden store. The three were planning to make a day of their excursion.

  Fletcher ran to his room and grabbed his backpack. He looked around, uncertain what he was supposed to bring for a stakeout.

  He decided on a warm sweater and a dictionary. Then he headed for the kitchen and grabbed a few snacks and two bottles of water and crammed those in as well.

  Satisfied, he headed for the door.

  “What will you and Jana be doing?” Hannibal asked.

  “I think we sit in the car and watch for the man who owns the tow truck to appear,” Fletcher said.

  “So you will be doing almost nothing?” Hannibal asked. “For hours?”

  “Uh, yes,” Fletcher realized this was true.

  “Are you going to talk to her?” Hannibal asked.

  Spenser leaned forward again to see what Fletcher would say.

  “I-I am not sure,” Fletcher said. “I do not wish to frighten her. It seems that there is some barrier to our union.”

  “How do you know?” Hannibal asked. “Have you talked to her?”

  He hadn’t. But Jana was the best kind of human, the kind who wore her feelings plainly on her face, which made it easier for an alien to understand how a conversation was going.

  The only times Jana made herself vague and unreadable were those moments when they were close enough to touch, when the electric attraction between them was undeniable.

  It gave Fletcher the feeling that she was unready, or perhaps unwilling to be his mate.

  And as much as he ached for her, it was more important to him that she feel happy. Her vibrant happiness was his favorite thing about her.

  He would not be the one to rob her of any part of it.

  “Go with your instinct, brother,” Spenser said suddenly in his deep serious voice.

  “I will,” Fletcher told him gratefully, heading for the door.

  “But don’t wait so long that you make her think you don’t want her.” Hannibal cried out after him as he closed the door.

  3

  Jana

  Jana climbed into the old ice cream truck and waited for Fletcher to join her.

  “May I ask a question, Jana?” he said politely as he got in.

  “Sure,” she said.

  He was always so straightforward. Some wild part of her brain waited for him to propose to her, or at least proposition her.

  “Why are we taking the ice cream truck?” he asked.

  Oh. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved.

  “Vi has to drive a very long distance,” Jana explained. “And this truck doesn’t get good gas mileage. So she’s taking my car.”

  Vi had fixed up the old ice cream truck to use for her mobile dog grooming business. That wasn’t happening anymore, but her friend didn’t really have the money to upgrade to something more economical.

  “But aren’t we supposed to be spying?” Fletcher asked. “This vehicle seems… conspicuous.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “We’ll just have to park it really carefully,” Jana said, hoping there was a spot big enough to hide an ice cream truck somewhere in sight of the towing lot. At least Vi had gotten around to painting over the ice cream menu on the side, so they wouldn’t spend the entire time getting flagged down by a bunch of soon-to-be-disappointed kids waving change and screaming about rocket pops.

  “This is a good plan, Jana,” Fletcher said. “I am excited for our adventure.”

  He smiled at her and she instantly had butterflies in her tummy again.

  She smiled back instinctively and willed herself to start the truck instead of mooning over him.

  As she pulled down the alleyway and headed for the road out of town, she automatically reached for the radio.

  Not knowing what Fletcher would like to listen to, she opted for the classical station on low volume. The background music might help with her nerves.

  All of a sudden, she was feeling a little weird about this stakeout.

  “Are you okay?” Fletcher asked, as if reading her mind.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I’m just a little worried we’ll be spotted.”

  “Then let’s make a plan for what we’ll do if that happens,” Fletcher suggested sensibly.

  “I guess we could say the truck broke down,” Jana said slowly.

  “That’s a good idea,” Fletcher agreed. “Now we have a plan.”

  She glanced over at him. He looked so content, it was almost like he was actually glowing.

  It would be amazing to live such a straightforward life. Fletcher took joy in a good meal, in helping his friends, in an afternoon in the garden.

  Jana felt as if she had grown calloused from spending her whole life on Earth. She was so focused on career goals that it was hard to remember to take pleasure in the small things. It must be nice to view the world with fresh eyes.

  The houses grew farther apart as they drove in companionable silence. Before long, the thin ribbon of suburb turned to farmland.

  “This is near where Vi and Hannibal found the dogs,” Fletcher noted.

  “Yeah,” Jana said. “We’re going to pass the barn soon.”

  “Why do you think the person took those dogs?” Fletcher asked.

  It was a question they all had been asking themselves.

  Why would you steal someone’s dogs and pay to have them trained?

  “If it was only one dog, it could have been revenge,” Jana mused. “Like someone was mad at another person and they took the dog but didn’t want to get caught with it.”

  “But there were many dogs,” Fletcher pointed out. “And why bother paying to train it as revenge?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question,” Jana agreed. “It’s a figure of speech,” she added when she saw the confused look on his face.

  He smiled in understanding.

  The group of friends had been over it again and again, but they were no closer to coming up with a theory that actually made sense.

  Officer West, the policewoman who met them when their landlords’ dog went missing, had posed the idea that maybe the person was a big fan of the dog trainer, and had done this hoping to help him.

  The trainer was Darwin Brody, a former professional football player. The theory made some loose sense, though if the person were really a fan, they surely would have wanted contact with him. There was no reason for them to remain anonymous. And the person who kidnapp
ed the dogs had merely sent an Über driver with the dogs and an envelope of cash to Brody, asking him to train them.

  So the fan theory made no sense either.

  But at this point, none of their ideas really did.

  Jana turned the van onto a side street and headed for the tow company.

  “Okay, let’s keep an eye out for a good place to set up,” she told Fletcher.

  Unfortunately, they seemed to be surrounded by potato fields on both sides with no place to hide.

  They had nearly reached the tow company lot when Jana spotted a stand of yew trees near the roadside that might provide the cover they were hoping for.

  “Here we go,” she said as she pulled the truck onto the dirt road that led onto the farmland next to the trees.

  “What are we doing?” Fletcher asked.

  “I think we can hide between the trees,” Jana said.

  “Won’t the owner of the farm want to know why we’re here?” Fletcher asked.

  “This is a fallow strawberry field,” Jana said. “The owner won’t even look at it again until next year. Hopefully.”

  Fletcher nodded.

  “Okay, hold on,” Jana said, hoping the ice cream truck could handle a bit of off-road action.

  They bumped and banged a bit, but ended up more or less exactly behind the stand of trees. The thin branches provided modest cover, but it was still easy for them to see between the trees and branches to the towing lot across the street.

  “This seems pretty good,” Jana said, feeling pleased with herself. “Now we wait.”

  She pulled two pairs of binoculars out of her bag and handed one to Fletcher.

  “What is this?” he asked, examining the binoculars.

  “They’re for seeing things that are far away,” Jana explained. “You put them up to your eyes and then you slide the dial to help you focus on the thing you want to see.”

  She watched as he played with them.

  He looked at things outside the car, then he tried to look at her.

  “I’m ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille,” she joked.

  “Who is Mr. DeMille?” he asked, looking around the inside of the truck.

  “Oh, it’s a joke,” she said. “Kind of an actor thing. Cecil DeMille was a famous director. And a close-up is when the camera shows a shot of just the actor’s face.”

  “You are an actor,” Fletcher said thoughtfully. “Or are you an actress?”

  “Depends on who you ask,” Jana said. “Stage performers generally prefer the term actor, even if we’re female. It indicates seriousness about craft.”

  “Are women not serious?” Fletcher asked.

  Jana’s eyebrows shot up. Then she remembered how new he was to everything.

  “Oh, we’re dead serious,” she assured him. “But there’s a belief out there, and it’s somewhat accurate, that most female actors are only cast in roles because of their beauty, or because the directors are attracted to them.”

  “Are the directors attracted to you?” Fletcher asked.

  His voice was strangely rough.

  “Who knows?” Jana asked. “But none of them have really hit on me yet, which makes me one of the lucky ones.”

  “Why would they hit you?” Fletcher sounded horrified. “Is it part of the acting?”

  “Oh dear,” Jana said. “To hit on someone means to flirt or to ask them to go on a date.”

  “Ah,” Fletcher said, looking much relieved. “I am glad no director has hit you, or hit on you.”

  “That’s one for the gratitude board,” Jana agreed.

  “What is the gratitude board?” Fletcher asked.

  She really needed to stop mentioning things he didn’t understand. It must have been a frustrating way to hold a conversation. Although to his credit, he showed no signs of impatience with her.

  “A lot of people try to visualize things to make themselves feel happy or inspired by putting images on a poster board,” Jana explained. “Some people make them for things they aspire to do, or for things that make them feel grateful.”

  “You have such a board?” Fletcher asked her.

  “Not yet,” she admitted. “But I always thought it sounded kind of neat. I guess I need an aspiration board to remind me to make a gratitude board.”

  “We will make one together,” he said. “When we are finished with our stakeout.”

  “Oh shoot, you’re right,” Jana remembered. “We should totally be watching the tow lot right now.”

  She held up her binoculars and focused them on the lot.

  The sky had taken on a pink glow, and it cast a dreamy haze over the tow lot and the big metal shop.

  Jana wondered suddenly if the two missing cars could be right there in the shop.

  It would be amazing if she and Fletcher somehow found the cars while Vi was away. It would be super exciting to really make something of this time while she was waiting to find out about her audition.

  They watched the lot for a long time, taking turns having a coffee break.

  Jana couldn’t help checking her phone from time to time.

  Don’t think about the call-back. Don’t think about the Cyndi Lauper Story, she told herself.

  But it was hard not to think about what it would be like to play Cyndi at the Public.

  Jana had done a handful of national tours, as well as some voiceover work and regional and off-Broadway theatre.

  But this role was something completely different, something that would change her career and her life.

  Sometimes she thought to herself that there were really two timelines with two Janas in them - one who got the part and started a new life in the city, and another who came close but didn’t get the role.

  What would it be like to go back on the road with another touring show, knowing how close she had been to breaking out in the city?

  She hoped she wouldn’t have to find out.

  “What’s that?” Fletcher asked.

  She refocused her binoculars and saw movement at the gates. Sure enough, the flat bed tow truck was leaving the drive and heading out to work.

  Jana scanned it, searching desperately for clues, remembering her earlier conversation with Vi.

  “What will I be looking for?” Jana had asked Vi before they left.

  “Clues,” Vi had replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  Vi sometimes forgot that not everyone had her gift for picking up details.

  “What clues?” Jana had asked.

  “You’re looking for something that doesn’t belong,” Vi had said. “Something unusual, something that doesn’t make sense in the story of what is supposed to be happening.”

  Right now, all Jana saw was a flatbed tow truck.

  She tried to pick out as many details as she could. The man driving it appeared to be the owner. He was wearing a flannel shirt. The truck was not clean, but not especially dirty. The bed was empty. It had a Pennsylvania license plate.

  Then it was gone.

  “Darn,” she said to herself.

  “What’s wrong?” Fletcher asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “And that’s the trouble. Maybe Vi would have noticed something out of place, but I certainly didn’t.”

  “It was far away and moving quickly,” Fletcher said.

  Vi was going to be really disappointed.

  Suddenly an idea occurred to Jana.

  “You know, if he’s gone with the truck, he must be out to tow a car,” Jana thought out loud. “Which means he won’t be back for a while. Maybe we can check out the lot and the shop.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Fletcher said. “Why don’t you stay here and keep a lookout and I’ll go over there? You can beep the horn if he’s coming back, and I’ll know to hide.”

  “No way,” Jana said. “I already can’t search for clues as well as Vi, and you’ve got an even worse shot than I do.”

  He looked troubled.

  “But I like your idea a lot,” Jana sa
id. “You stay here, and I’ll go over there.”

  “Jana, this isn’t a good plan,” he said.

  “Are you suggesting that because I’m a woman I’m incapable of doing something risky?” she asked lightly.

  His face went blank.

  “I’m sorry, Jana, if this is what you wish, I will help you.”

  She felt a pang of guilt.

  But there was no time to waste explaining herself.

  “Perfect,” she said. “Keep a sharp eye out. I’ll be right back.”

  4

  Jana

  Jana slipped out of the truck, trying not to think about hurting Fletcher’s feelings. Just because his body made him look like a man, and wow did it ever, didn’t mean he knew the ins and outs of sexism on Earth.

  She would be done and back before he had a chance to lick his wounds, she decided. They could talk more about it then.

  She carefully looked both ways before crossing the road, though she would have been able to see a car in either direction for at least a mile.

  When she reached the gravel drive to the towing lot, she saw a huge metal mailbox with a lock on it - probably the lockbox for mail and keys when customers dropped off after hours.

  She jogged past it and headed for the lot.

  It had looked mostly empty from the road and indeed there were only few cars in the dirt parking area. None of them matched what she was looking for.

  She took a deep breath and headed for the shop.

  It was as big as an airplane hangar, its metal walls painted light blue with the towing company’s logo of a tow truck with a smiling front bumper and eyes with stars in them on its windshield. Stargazer Bill’s Towing was emblazoned above the image in a half-circle.

  She tried the front door and was unsurprised to find it locked.

  She checked her phone. It had been just over five minutes since they’d seen the man drive away. She headed into the tall weeds next to the shop to see if there was a side door.

  The grass tickled her shins, and the sun was bright overhead, glaring on the dusty shop windows. She tried peering in but it was too dark inside and too bright outside for her to see much.

  When she had almost reached the rear of the building, she heard a tinkling, jaunty music playing in the distance. It was so out of place that it took her a few seconds to realize what it was.