The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3
Page 64
"Where's your phone?" I said as a wall of fire appeared in front of me. I turned and saw that the cane not flattened by the explosion had caught fire.
"In the jeep, why?" Harry's eyes opened real wide as he got to his feet and surveyed our position. "No, I see why."
"Come on. We don't have much time." I pulled him after me. We took off running west because I knew that the smoke from the field in the south would kill us long before the flames from the north got to us. "This is going to hurt!" I screamed as we plunged into the dry sugarcane whose leaves sliced at us. Fortunately, we came across a break in the cane. Unfortunately, it was a small access road boarding a canal. I looked south towards the road. The smoke blocked our exit.
I looked at Harry and said, "If we go into the canal there's no telling how deep it is or whether or not there are any gators or snakes in it." I pointed north. "We may be able to make the north access break and get across the canal before the flames get there. We have the south wind to our advantage."
"I say run until we have to jump in and become people MacNuggets." Harry smiled weakly.
That's what we did. We ran north on the sand and gravel road towards the burning field. The sky overhead was just starting to lighten with dawn, and I spied what I had been praying would be there. A small bridge consisting of a few rotten boards and a large culvert crossed the canal, and a small clear path led away from the canal westward. I was feeling a strong wind gust coming from the southeast behind me, and I feared that fate was giving us more problems. If the wind gusted and fanned this fire, it might jump the canal.
We made the bridge and made our way carefully across it. I stopped on the other side, and my fear was confirmed as the smoke, not the fire, would impede our just taking the west side of the canal south to the road. I didn't have enough air to talk, so I just flung my hand in the direction of the westward path, and Harry and I started down it.
"You know when we get out of this. I'm moving to a state where the wind only comes from one friggin direction," I said, clutching my side as another cramp stabbed through me.
Harry stopped and waited for me. "Me, I'm giving up sugar."
That made me laugh so hard that I couldn't run for awhile, so we plodded on down the path, looking over our shoulders hoping not to see smoke or fire.
"Do you know where we are?" Harry asked as the path led out into a nice paved road.
"Somewhere in Florida." I looked up and down the deserted two-way potholed road. "I guess we go south?"
"Sounds good," Harry said, dabbing a cut on his face with his t-shirt. "Do you ever get used to being blown up?"
"I don't know. I don't mind the flying through the air, but I’m sick of the landings." I looked at my feet as I walked. "Hey, hey, I still have my shoes!"
"And a big rip in your shirt," Harry said, looking me over.
"Where?" I asked feeling around.
"The back."
He was right. It was nearly in tatters in the back. No wonder I was feeling the heat.
"Do you think we're going to have to walk all the way back?" Harry said as we heard the sirens in the distance. "Aren't we heroes or something?" He waved at a helicopter that cruised overhead. The copter kept going. Harry flipped it off.
"Do you think it's wise to flip off Homeland Security?" I asked as I recounted my fingers. Harry's digits seemed to work, but mine were a bit, well, two of them were broken. Ouch. "I think I broke my fingers." I lifted him my hand to check out.
"Really?" We stopped walking and he examined my hand. "Yep, they look broken alright, but what do I know, just a hero walking down the street ignored by the world."
"You want some cheese with that whine?" I said smiling. "Ouch, let go."
Harry stopped moving my broken fingers around and dropped my hand. "Whine? Here's whining. I sacrificed my jeep and got blown ten feet in the air and landed on something hard."
"That was me," I filled in.
"I got so close to two - not one, mind you - fires that I'm plumping because I'm cooked."
"Hell, I'm a toasted marshmallow," I snickered.
He ignored me. "And now I'm walking down a god-forsaken road, and they can't even land a copter to pick us up."
"See, this is what I was talking about. Private eyes don't lead the glamorous life you think they do. And that nine thousand dollars we got isn't going to pay for a new jeep. I wonder if it's going to be covered under your insurance. After all, you put it in harm’s way."
Harry groaned and continued walking. "Stop, stop."
"Sure, it’s all fun and games till someone gets hurt." There I said it. I fully became my mother. Gone was the independent soul. I had become Mom. "Do you think we, er, they got everyone?"
"I don't care."
"You mean we can throw all those holy men out of the house?" I asked gleefully.
He looked down at me and smirked. "Don't forget Dave."
"Buslowski, he's definitely out on the street. Betty's alright. She can stay, but Aunt Diane, if you ever..."
"Don't worry. I’m mentally tearing up her card on the Rolodex of my life." Harry rubbed his eyes.
We came to an intersection. "This way," I said, pointing east with my good hand, "would be your exploded jeep and maybe some firefighters. This way," I indicated south, "would connect with the road to the sod farm. But if we go this way, about a mile or so down the road is one of the best breakfast joints in south Florida."
"This way, and that would be the responsible thing to do," Harry said as he dug deep into his pocket and came out with a twenty-dollar bill. "This enough for breakfast?"
"With that at Mama C's we can eat like kings," I said. "They might let us use their phone so we could tell someone we aren't dead."
"They saw us."
"But Michael didn't. And Luke's due back, and I don't want him emptying my closet and moving the new wife in, yet."
Harry held out his arm, and I laced mine through it. We started off down the road when I heard the toot of a horn, and a white USDA/NRCS truck pulled over.
"Cindy girl, looks like you and your young fella could use a ride," Sugar Booger said as he made his partner get in the back, and Harry and I climbed in. "Seems to me that you guys are going the wrong way."
"Isn't Mama C's down here?" I asked.
He looked at me sideways and started the truck in the direction of the diner. "I saw that big fire, and I said to myself, Sugar, I betcha that Cindy girl has something to do with that."
"Actually, that would be Harry here and, I think, a couple of priests. Me, I was just along for the ride." I sat back, wincing as my bare back came into contact with the rough seat.
"They might be looking for you."
"Maybe."
He drove in silence until he pulled into the diner's lot. "Mind if I give you something less ripped to wear?" He said as he reached behind his seat and handed me a well-worn Earth team volunteer t-shirt.
"Thanks. You guys want to join us? Harry has twenty bucks."
"I don't know, we have that field to finish." Sugar Booger rubbed his chin.
"The flat one a couple of miles north of Metts?" I asked.
"That's the one."
"Might as well come and eat as it's on fire," I said as I turned my back, flipped off my shirt and on the t-shirt before Sugar could blink twice. I pulled my hair out, and Harry helped me pick out some miscellaneous foliage.
"Jimmy,” Sugar called to his partner, “might as well get out of the truck and get some grub. Cindy girl has burned down our field."
The surveyor just nodded and hopped off the truck. Harry asked if he could make a call with Sugar's phone. He just handed it to him and requested that if it was long distance to make it short. We left Harry outside to make the call, and I headed to the ladies room after asking Sugar to order me something fattening and greasy.
Chapter Thirty
Harry was into his second version of our adventure when Father Michael and Betty pulled up. I waved them over with my good hand. Be
tty rushed over and gave me a bone-crunching hug. Michael, feeling abandoned at first, shyly made his way over to our table. We had started off with just us and the surveyors, but as the morning wore on, and Harry's story increased, we had six, maybe seven, farmers and laborers pulling their tables and chairs over.
One of them brought a chair over for Michael, and he sat down across from me. "People are looking for you guys," he said irritated.
"I had to stop for first aide," I said, holding up my hand. Sugar had taken two coffee stirrers and some duct tape and fashioned me a two-finger cast. It wouldn't do in the long run, but it made eating eggs and grits easier.
"You know, you’ve a black eye forming."
"I hit Harry's shoulder. Or was it his elbow?" I pondered. "I think I’ve a couple of bruised ribs."
"Harry looks pretty good."
"He should. He landed on me," I said, looking over at him. "I hear we flew twenty feet at least. That's what Harry's telling them over there." I leaned in. "It was only ten and don't believe him when he tells you about fighting off alligators," I confided. "So, do we know yet how things turned out?"
"Aside from the plane crash, the truck explosion and you don't even want to know what happened over at the farm."
"Well, actually I do want to know what happened over at the farm and whether we got all the bad guys. And if Father Thomas and Father David ever got found. Not to mention the flying priests."
"I don't think this is the place to discuss National Security."
I reached over and grabbed his hand. "Damn right this is the place. That boy over there lost his jeep and put his life in jeopardy for National Security, and if you don't tell them," I waved my other hand around, "Then no one's going to know." I softened my voice. "He needs to be a hero, if just for today. You know they'll bury this. The moron in charge didn't even stop to pick us up," I said, staring into his eyes. "I'll give you back your cat’s eye?" I said seductively
Michael sat a moment and then began telling the room the details, as he knew them.
"After Cin and Harry found out the location of the missing planes and called me, I notified Father Peter and Paul who were flying in the jump plane doing an air search. They jumped and landed just south of the planes. Peter checked out the buildings while Paul went to secure the planes. About the time that Cin and Harry alerted us that people were coming, a ground fight began between the terrorists and Peter. Peter had found where they were hiding some very special munitions and assembled a ground-to-air missile launcher."
"Amazing what they teach priests these days," commented an awestruck burly farmer.
"Anyway, to get back to the story, Paul had time to drop the tanks off one plane, but he was shot and was unable to stop the pilot from getting the other plane off the ground."
"Is he okay?" I asked.
"Shoulder wound, but he'll be fine. Help had arrived but too late. The other plane was airborne, so Father Peter brought it down with a missile."
"So that's what went whizzing over our heads, Harry."
"Damn good aim, oh sorry Father," Harry said. "It blew up like the Fourth of July."
"How'd the truck get away? Who was driving it?"
"I think it was Bill Metts. Between the fathers and the feds, they brought down five men. But Bill saw that the tide was turning against him, and he took off. You said he passed you, and then when he ran into trouble, he doubled back and crashed into Harry's jeep. Unfortunately for him, he was carrying a lot of explosive material," Michael finished and accepted the plate of eggs and bacon Betty had ordered for him.
"Do we know why Metts was involved?"
Michael shook his head.
"Probably for the money," Sugar offered. "He'll do anything for a buck."
"They have some men in custody, but I don't know if we will get the privilege of having all our blanks filled in." Michael sighed.
"Tell them about Dave," Betty prompted.
"Oh, Dave gets credit for this bust so he's out of the dog house with the Sheriff's Department anyway. You and Harry are being labeled anonymous tippers to keep Homeland from prosecuting you for interference."
The crowd of farmers that had accumulated booed. Michael held up his hands.
"Not my idea. Father Peter and Father Paul are military so they’ll receive the credit."
"How about Father Thomas and Father David?" I asked.
"Well, they ended up in Boynton Beach. Last I heard, Father Thomas had to restrain Father David from shooting the OnStar. I suggested to Dave that he put into his report that they were checking out a location down there."
"And you?"
"And me? I get my cat's eye back." He smiled and held out his hand.
I dug in my pocket and produced the marble. I shined it up before giving it to him. After all, he did tell a good story.
Chapter Thirty-one
Dear Noelle,
They say that time heals all wounds. I still wonder who “they” are. My fingers and ribs will heal in time and my skin has more flesh colored areas than purple bruises, but I still have a long way to go to lose the ghosts.
Harry was surprised by an anonymous gift of a new Jeep Cherokee. I think it was Michael, but he swears he knows nothing about it. Harry and Dave have gotten close since they still both share a bathroom. Dave never got back to his wife with an apology, so he's living with us awhile until he gets on his feet.
Your Dad doesn't seem to mind. He thinks of Dave as Harry's babysitter. I hate it because I'm outnumbered and never get the remote control. I spend a lot of time in the hammock in the backyard.
Dwayne's toy drive is in full swing. He didn't let a little thing like a concussion get in the way. Bernice said he has four helpers in the community band alone. I haven't been back because of my broken fingers. They did offer me the bass drum, but I declined. I've had enough booms lately.
I'm thinking of your suggestion to come to see you, and I think it would be a good time to visit England. Maybe the magic of Cornwall will help me to deal with the ghosts I left there.
Talk to you soon.
Love,
Mom.
***
Alexie Aaron
After traveling the world, Alexie Aaron, a Midwestern native, returned to her roots where she’s been haunting for years. She now lives in a village outside of Chicago with her husband and family.
Her popular Haunted Series was born from her memories of fleeting shapes rushing around doorways, an heirloom chair that rocked itself, cold feelings of mysterious dread, and warm feelings from the traces of loved ones long gone.
Alexie also writes the Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries. These cozies set in England and south Florida combine action and intrigue with a liberal dose of humor.
Table of Contents
ALSO BY ALEXIE AARON
Deomposing
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Death by Saxophone
Copyright
Dedication
Performance
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chap
ter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Discord
Copyright
Dedication
South Florida
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen