by Trevor Scott
Okay. How did Ben process this? The Russians had also seen something out of the ordinary. And not just them. Carlos had also seen something. The same with Lester Dawson. Although they didn’t really discuss the possibility of what they actually saw, everyone on that misty, foggy mountain saw something out of the ordinary. Truth be told, even Ben couldn’t entirely describe properly the fast-moving images he saw during that firefight.
“You still don’t believe,” Marlon said. “Yet, you can’t deny those things that the Air Force pilots told you. You can’t discard the possibility of aliens. So why can’t you trust your own eyes and see the truth before you?”
A strange thought streaked through Ben’s mind. What if Lester was one of them? What if he had shifted long enough to take out the Russians? Naw. That was crazy.
37
A lot had happened in the past week. Della Bluesky had gotten the men from the Compound out of detention with no charges filed and a full-throated apology from the FBI. Which was something that almost never happened. Kevin Engel had nearly been killed by a simple peanut allergy. He was already out of the hospital and doing fine at the Compound. Ben heard Kevin’s sister had actually come to his hospital room and they were reconciling their differences. Della had also gotten the FBI to return Marlon’s computers. Although the FBI didn’t apologize for that debacle, they were quite nice about it.
Deputy Sheriff Lester Dawson had been praised by the sheriff for his work uncovering the murderers of Marco Alvarez. Ben fully expected his old high school friend to be awarded a medal for his apprehension of the Russian mobsters. Vlad Grankin had hired the second-best lawyer in Portland to defend him. Della Bluesky had passed on the job, but another attorney in her office was defending Grankin. Of course, Grankin said he had no idea that his man, the bald thug who had died mysteriously on the mountain, had killed Marco Alvarez. Ben guessed a jury would have to decide who was lying. All of his other men were giving Grankin an alibi, and the bald man killed out in the Siuslaw wasn’t talking. The Russian might get off. But they would likely have to do time for the shootings at Marlon’s house and on the remote forest road, at the men in the truffle camp, and then the firefight with Ben and Lester.
There was also the little matter dealing with the foreman, Carlos Sala. The Russians didn’t simply chase the foreman into the forest because they wanted tips on the Springdale Winery’s newest pinot noir release. They were there to kill the man. Ben was sure of that, and so was Deputy Lester Dawson.
After everyone got out of the Siuslaw National Forest, nobody mentioned the mysterious happenings in that misty fog. Ben wasn’t sure he could believe his own vision.
Ben also found out that Vlad Grankin planned to used the entire Cantina Valley as a high-end winery of the best pinot noir available. But the Russian’s big plan was to produce an exclusive cognac that would eventually rival the French versions. Ben had to give the guy credit for his entrepreneurial spirit. Too bad the guy couldn’t have been more open about his plans.
Grankin’s men had pinned the burning of Jim Erickson’s cattle on the bald man also, but Deputy Lester Dawson was looking into the matter further, guessing the bald man had help. Ben told Lester he better find out soon before Jim got his hands on the Russians.
Once word got back to Della Bluesky about the EPA problems in Cantina Valley, she agreed to sink her teeth in that agency on behalf of the residents, pro bono.
Now, sitting in the comfort of his living room, a fire burning in the fireplace, rain tapping on the metal roof, Ben took a sip of wine and glanced at Maggi McGuffin next to him. He had not mentioned anything out of the ordinary happening while taking down the Russians, but she was a smart woman. She knew that something was wrong.
“What are you thinking?” Maggi asked him.
“I was wondering about us,” he said. Not a total lie. “Where do we go from here?”
“First of all, you need to dispel something that Marlon said to me when he came by my office a couple days ago.”
Ben simply shrugged.
“He said something about a confirmed Bigfoot sighting up in the Siuslaw,” she said. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Did Marlon mention the fact that he had taken a massive amount of magic mushrooms?” Ben asked.
She found her purse on the end of the sofa and pulled out a baggy of dried mushrooms. Then she opened the bag and pulled out a mushroom, popping it into her mouth quickly, chewing a little, and then swallowing the mushroom. “You mean these?”
“Those will show up in a drug test, Maggi. You’ll be tripping soon.”
“Not with these,” she said. “They’re gypsy mushrooms. Marlon misidentified them.”
Now, how could any of them completely dismiss what they had experienced in the forest? Time would tell.
If you like science fiction, please consider reading the first book in this new series:
The Azure Key (the first book in the Corsair Uprising Space Opera Series)
