“Where’s Tripoli?” Bibby asked.
“That’s in northern Africa,” Becky said, then turned her attention to the carton. “Okay, nice crate, but I want to see what was sent to my, our grandfather. Do you need a pry bar?”
“Nae, I got this,” Jim said, and flipped out the multitool again, using its broad blade to slip between the wooden strap and the box’s body. He forced it in, then tweaked the handle slightly, prying off the crosspiece. “Jest a couple more,” he said softly, and bent to his task, getting the lid off quickly.
Becky peered around her husband’s elbow. “A wool blanket?”
“It’s jest a wrapper.” Jim lifted the musky bundle out of the small crate. “What we have here,” he said grandly, feeling better at being in control of the situation instead of on the outside as he was earlier with all of the chatting about the family history, “is an old leather briefcase.”
Big Jim frowned as he saw that it wasn’t anything exceptional. It was a contemporary styled, high dollar, well-constructed leather valise. It did look as if it had spent a fair amount of time in the desert air, or in an oven, though. The tanned leather was hard and cracked and in desperate need of a healthy rubbing with saddle soap. However, the design looked newer than the forty plus year postmark.
“That’s Wee James’s bag!” Benji exclaimed. “Look: his initials are right there, and if ye turn it over, ye’ll see they’re also on the bottom. James Ignatius Melbourne, J.I.M.”
Big Jim turned it over and saw that Benji was right. “What the fu… I mean, ye’ve got to be kiddin’ me! How did ye ken? Did ye see this at the post?”
“Hey, yer the one who jest opened it, not me. Do ye think that I coulda sneaked it into that box then resealed it with fifty-year-old tape? Yer the cop; go have the tape and string tested and dated. I’ll wager that they arena current goods.”
Big Jim rechecked the crate; it was solid. He turned the ratty cardboard box over and closely inspected it for signs of tampering. No, it was still sealed, and the only opening was the one he had just created. “How did ye ken about the initials? Are ye psychic, too?” There had to be a reason Benji knew about the engraving.
“Nae, I havena the sight, but I did see this two months ago. Wee James showed it to me. Look, there’s a special lock here.” Benji pulled away the now stiff, leather tab covering the hidden high tech lock. “See, ye put yer thumb here, and if yer the rightful owner, it pops open. See,” he said as he touched the black disc, “I’m not the one. James had it set up for his thumbprint. Hmm, I wonder if his brother’s print would work. They’re kin and…hmm.”
“I doubt it,” Big Jim said, as he looked at the black disc, checking it for weathering or wear. It appeared to be in better condition than the leather it was seated in. He doubted that it had been added later. “The odds are one in 64 billion that two prints are the same. At least, that’s what they told us in cop school.” He set his thumb on the black composite.
Click. Click.
“Weel, ye jest found the one!” Benji walked up next to his brother-in-law’s elbow. “Mind if I look inside?”
“Hold on, hold on,” Becky said. “I want to make sure Mom and Dad see this. I mean, it was addressed to Jody Pomeroy, and he is her father. Where did they go? They were just here.”
“I’ll take this in the house, then help ye look. They couldna gone too far, their car’s still here.” Jim loosely rewrapped the valise with the undyed wool shawl and placed it back into the wooden box. He threw the lid back on and set the weathered cardboard container on top. There might be a few clues in or on it, too. If he didn’t know better—and he didn’t—he wouldn’t doubt that the leather had aged two hundred years. But, the thumbprint recognition technology was twenty years old, at the most. Suddenly, he wanted a drink in the worst way. “Not a chance,” he said softly, “no way.”
“Mommy, Mommy!” Bibby screamed in terror.
Jim dropped the boxes on the table and ran to her voice. She sounded terrified. He found her near the cars, all alone and shaking. Her grandparents rushed in to join her just as he got there. “What’s wrong, honey?”
Now Benji and Jane were there, too. Only Becky and young Jim were missing. Bibby was mute as she looked at each family member, trying to read their thoughts, but all she could see was their concern for her. The bad man had her mother and baby brother—she knew that—but she didn’t know where they were.
And then they were there; she could feel them, but still couldn’t see them.
“mmph!” The muffled scream was slight, but they all heard it and ran to the source.
Big Jim started to tell Bibby to stay back then gulped, choking on his words. Instead, he opened his arms and let her run into them. If someone had snatched his wife and son, he wasn’t going to let him take his daughter, too.
“Ooh, so ye made it back, did ye?” the leader of the group called out when he saw Benji.
Atholl Grant MacLeod the Seventh—Sept as he liked to be called—the man who had kidnapped Benji when he was twelve years old, was back. And, he had his two sons, Eight and Niner, with him.
Becky took advantage of the man’s pride causing him momentary distraction. “Catch!” she screamed, and threw her son into the air in an act of total faith.
Janie saw the toddler toss from her position on the sidelines and leapt out, caught the squalling child, clutched him to her chest, and barrel rolled on the ground away from the vile trio toward her husband. Benji grabbed the pair and ushered them behind him. Now how was he going to get his sister back?
“Smart move, woman,” Sept said snidely, his grimy fist grasping the military surplus bayonet, waving it at her threateningly. “Ye’ll not get another chance like that again.” He grabbed her free arm, the one that had held her son, and wrenched it up and behind her back, bending her forward, almost to the ground. “Bitch!” he growled.
“We’re ready, Pa,” Niner called from behind the opened car door. “Ferget the bairn; he’d probably be more trouble, anyhow. We gotta get outta here quick!” Eight revved the engine and Niner moved around to herd the reluctant, writhing hostage into the backseat.
All three of Becky’s kin rushed the gang. “Stop where ye are!” Sept shouted. He stuck the bayonet blade next to Becky’s throat. “I’ll send ye a note—to the right address this time—with where to send all the money, gold, and gems. And dinna be slow in collectin’ it. Ye might want to start emptyin’ yer savin’s accounts and safety deposit boxes right now.” Sept grinned lecherously and leaned into Becky’s hair, rubbing his face into it. She shook her head, trying to be rid his unwanted advances. “She’ll have good company while we’re waitin’ fer ye,” he said, and entered the car, trying to pull her along with him.
Niner shoved hard and forced the struggling, contorted Becky, her one arm still twisted high behind her, the rest of the way into the back seat of the vintage station wagon. Eight took off, wheels spinning in the loose gravel, as Niner fumbled to get the front passenger door opened, finally opting to climb in through the opened window, his feet pedaling furiously to gain complete access.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Bibby screamed, as she pounded on her father’s shoulder. Jim was focused, intent on trying to see the license plate number of the getaway car, and was ignoring her thumps.
“Jest a minute, sweetheart,” he said. Still holding her close to him, he ducked down to get a better look through the dust being kicked up by the tires.
He got back up from his crouched position and turned to her. “It’s gonna be all right,” he said, his lips pulled tight in anger. The gall of those men, kidnapping his wife, and almost his son, right in front of him, a police officer, and all of her family.
“Daddy, Daddy,” she said again. This time, she pulled his face toward hers, her small hands clutching his cheeks to make him look at her, “You have to open the briefcase. It has the letter in it that tells where they’re taking Mommy.”
“What?” he asked.
Benji, Gregg, Mo
na, and Jane—young Jim held close to her chest—joined the pair. “Are ye okay?” Jim asked Jane as she neared.
“He’s fine,” she said.
“I mean ye,” he said, nodding to her dusty and scuffed up blouse.
“Just a little dirt and maybe a scrape or two; I’ve had worse. Bibby, what are you talking about?” Jane asked the frantic girl since her father was ignoring her request.
“The letter! There’s a letter in the briefcase that says where they took Mommy!” she repeated with exasperation. Everyone was acting like idiots and they had to hurry up, or they wouldn’t be able to rescue her.
Gregg heard her and sprinted back to the house, the rest of the family close behind. Gregg dug into the open briefcase. “This one?” he asked Bibby, holding up a folded piece of yellowed paper that read, OPEN ME FIRST in a broad, brown-colored script.
Jim walked in, looked around and said, “Weel, get on with it! I may not believe any of what ye say about yer time travelin’, but I’ll believe anythin’ my daughter says. Does it say where Becky is?”
“It’s addressed to Jim Melbourne…” Gregg said, and looked up at his son-in-law who had suddenly gone ashen at his name. “It says, ‘Jim, if your wife was just kidnapped by the MacLeods, then get to Swona Island as fast as possible. Take a helicopter, spare no expense. You and Benji together can take them. They’re headed to the old house with red doors. Use the rear, ocean side entrance and watch out for loose rocks. Love, J.I.M.’”
“What the fu…I mean, what’s goin’ on here?” Jim asked angrily. “I should be on the phone to headquarters, not listenin’ to this nonsense!” He snorted in disgust and reached for the phone on the wall.
“Daddy!” Bibby screamed, once again grabbing her father’s face in her hands. “Just do it, please!”
Jim rolled his eyes then nodded his head to Benji. “Are ye ready fer this? I mean, I can take the truck and get us to the station in no time, but damn. Sorry, sweetheart,” he said as he looked to Bibby, apologizing for the cursing. He turned back to Benji. “We have a helicopter in town, but the pilot is out on holiday. I suppose we can drive to Gills Bay and take the ferry.”
“If ye can get me to the station, I can fly the chopper. Jest call ahead and make sure it’s fueled and everythin’ that isna needed is tossed. I dinna ken the size of the bird, but with the both of us in it, it’s sure to be pushin’ maximum load.”
“Ye mean, the two of us and Becky,” Jim said, and handed his daughter to Gregg. “Take care of each other,” he said to the group, “Benji, Becky, and I will be right back."
The End
Watch for FAIRIES DOWN UNDER
Fifth in THE FAIRIES SAGA
Release information at www.danihaviland.com
Thanks in no particular order:
Thank you, Leatherman Tool Group, Inc., for having such fantastic multi-tools that they’re worthy of mentioning by name. Everyone in my family has at least two of them.
Thank you, Carhartt clothing, for having the toughest work pants around. You also have great jackets and other gear, but my characters didn’t need them in their summertime scenarios.
Note: Up here in Alaska, we refer to “Carhartts” and “Leathermen” by name so my former Alaskan characters do the same.
Thanks to my husband, Marty, and youngest daughter, Bibb, for being patient, supportive and ignoring the messy house while Mom writes and rewrites, cuts, and pastes.
Thank you, Cathie Woods, the gifted body worker, for the many hours spent reading, suggesting, and editing this book.
A grateful nod to James Pietz, a guy who fell short of his dream of being the village idiot, but during a lucid interval, stumbled upon a fix to a technical annoyance I was having with my documents.
Thank you, America and our valiant protectors, for securing my freedom of speech along with so many other rights and privileges still promised in our Bill of Rights. Because of them, I can share my wandering, imaginative mind without fear of repercussions. I have fun, fearlessly time tripping, knowing that there really is a way to travel in time—it’s just that we haven’t discovered how to put the science and hardware together. Then again, the secret of time travel may already be known by a select few. I know if I knew how to bounce back and forth between the centuries, I’d keep it to myself, too (grin).
And remember: always be nice to one another,
Dani Haviland
www.danihaviland.com
Join Time Travelers Anonymous for freebies, contests, and opportunities to be a beta reader (read excerpts and even entire books before they’re available to the public).
Other books in the series:
NAKED IN THE WINTER WIND: Author Lisa Sinclaire’s romance novels were a favorite of the plump and perky, sixty-year-old Dani Madigan. While visiting her daughter, Leah, in North Carolina, she is in an accident involving the mysterious Master Simon. Dani awakens in the wilderness of the late 18th century, without a memory and in the body of a much younger self. Through cleverness and a Leatherman tool, she rescues an injured mountain man, Ian Kincaid, from a band of vigilantes. He names her Evie and claims her as his wife. Local Revolutionary War skirmishes wreck havoc in Evie’s life. Master Simon returns the wounded young mother to the 21st century for emergency surgery to remove the musket ball near her heart. During her brief medical visit, Evie recognizes her recovery room nurse: Leah, her firstborn daughter. Master Simon whisks away the still frail patient, back to the 18th leaving her daughter, Leah, in a quandary. Was that woman really her mother who disappeared nearly a year ago? How did she get so young? And where did she disappear to—again?
AYE, I AM A FAIRY continues the story with Leah finding clues about her mother’s whereabouts in a misplaced smart phone. The reportedly gay James Melbourne, the British Lord her mother met the day she disappeared, contacts Leah. He has more information about her mother’s disappearance in his bundle of ancient Letters. The first of The Letters explains where Mom is, that the characters from Lost, the historical romance novels by Lisa Sinclaire, are real, and that some of these people are now family. Leah and James become friends then suddenly have to ward off attacks by the numbered heirs of Atholl MacLeod who are searching for The Letters and the treasure they lead to. James receives another old letter, apparently from Marty Melbourne, asking him to go back in time to save his ancestor. But, it looks like he won’t be traveling solo— Leah wants to go back, too.
DANCES NAKED transpires at the same time as THE GREAT BIG FAIRY but in different centuries (it’s a time traveling thing). Marty Melbourne has helped others in the 18th century, but now wants to get back home to the 21stcentury. On his way to The Trees, the magnetic time portal through the centuries, he is robbed by Grant MacLeod. The callus brother of Atholl MacLeod is dragging his reluctant younger sister and her baby cross-country, robbing, and pillaging at every opportunity. Marty escapes with his life but little else. No horse, no shoes, and no sense of direction thwart Marty’s homecoming to 2013. A small Cherokee hunting party finds Marty and decides that the crazy white man in strange clothes could be of use to them. The group continues to grow when two very different women join the micro tribe. But Marty must wait until Chief Red Shirt is done with him before the brave will lead him to The Trees, and he can go home to Bibb, the woman he should have married, and Billy, the son he never knew he had.
FAIRIES DOWN UNDER: Find out how James Melbourne wound up on the First Fleet, how he knew that Becky would be kidnapped, and more about how to travel through time. (Still in development.)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dani Haviland grew up in the Arizona desert, but currently resides in Alaska with many others who became ‘fed up with the heat.’ No snakes, few bugs, and lots of fresh air are only three of the wonderful aspects of The Great Land. Long winters are ideal for creating stories, the short, but full of sunshine summers bring on bumper crops of flowers and veggies, and the generous and selfless friends and neighbors are bonuses not expected, but very much appreciated. Find
lots of pictures of Dani and family, Alaska, North Carolina, and Australia (locations investigated for the continuing saga) at www.danihaviland.com
The Great Big Fairy and The Fairies Saga are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously for the reader’s entertainment. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or fictional, events, business establishments, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2011 by Dani Haviland
All rights reserved
Published by Chill Out!
ISBN 978-1-4699941-2-3
~ The Fairies Saga ~
By Dani Haviland
In chronological order:
Naked in the Winter Wind
Aye, I am a Fairy
Dances Naked
The Great Big Fairy
Fairies Down Under
Table of Contents
Previously…
1 They Might Be Giants
2 Breakfast for the Boys
3 Benji
4 Greetings
5 Mother Knows Best
6 Surprise, Surprise
7 The Best News
8 What’s a Woman To Do?
9 Too Soon for Babies
10 Gimme Shelter
11 Edinburgh
12 Benji’s Disappearing Act
13 A Secondary Infection
14 Where’s Benji
The Great Big Fairy (The Fairies Saga Book 4) Page 44
