by Vella Day
She held up a finger before pulling out her iPad from her purse. Once she booted up, Sky navigated to a bookmarked page. “Here’s an article on alien implants. The incision is new, but the scar appears old because of a special cream the aliens have developed. And the scar’s in the shape of a half moon.” Darleen looked up, smiled, and then returned to her work.
Kane clasped the iPad tightly. “Okay, now I’m a little freaked out.”
“Are you starting to believe?” It was her turn to wink.
Kane chuckled. “God help me if I do.”
She did more searching until Dr. Williams appeared. “Come back with me.” He nodded at Darleen who showed little interest in the two visitors. From the frown on Williams’ face, things hadn’t gone well. As soon as they stepped in the corridor, the doctor stopped and faced them. “We found something. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s definitely metal and about half an inch in diameter. There appears to be a microchip in it.”
Her breath caught. “Ohmigod.”
“My thoughts exactly. Do you want me to send it to the lab to determine its origin?”
A small shiver raced up her spine, and she looked at Kane, not sure if he wanted the government to be exposed.
He stepped forward and handed Dr. Williams a business card. “Please tell them to let me know the results, and ask them not to discuss this with anyone.”
“The lab I use is very discreet.”
She wondered how the Senator was taking the news. “Is Mr. Overton okay?”
“He’s angry.”
“I don’t blame him.”
Dr. Williams addressed her. “I forgot to tell you that I received the lab result this morning for the tox screen of your headless man. He had no cocaine or trace of any illegal drug in his system. Besides the military tattoo, he had about four percent body fat that was covered by a lot of muscle, convincing me he was military and not some drug user.”
“Good to know.” Sky shivered, not from the cold, but at the fact someone who was trained to fight, had died quickly. “Any results from his fingerprints?”
“Not yet.”
The doctor led them back to the lab where the Senator was sitting on the table, looking uncomfortable. He slid off the table and winced. “Get me out of here. I have some phone calls to make.”
Dr. Williams nodded. “Use the back exit. I don’t need a leak coming from Darlene.”
They all left. After they stopped for lunch, Kane drove them back to Savory. During the whole trip, the Senator was quiet, not that she blamed him. Not knowing when or how someone had implanted a foreign object in his body would scare the bejesus out of anyone.
Halfway back to town, her cell rang. “Hey, Earl. Everything okay?” Last night’s heavy cloud cover would have prevented him from another sighting, so she couldn’t guess what he was calling about.
“I found something you need to see.”
“What is it?”
“Well, I was out on my golf cart when I seen this piece of plastic sticking up right near where the man was killed. I took out my grabber and lo and behold it was an ID badge.”
“Was there a name on the badge?”
“Sure was. Crandall Thompson.”
“Never heard of him. Is there a photo on it?”
“Nope. It’s plain white plastic with a black strip on the back, like one of those credit cards.”
Adrenaline kicked up her heart. “Does it look like the kind one might use to get into a protected area?”
“Could be.”
She glanced over at Kane, whose eyes were riveted on the road, but from the way he gripped the wheel, he was listening to the one-sided conversation with attention. “I’ll stop by when I return to town.”
“You on some kind of fancy mission?” His question held way too much excitement.
“No. I’m visiting someone in Page. Later, Earl.” She disconnected and turned to Kane. “I think I might know why someone broke into my house.”
“I’m listening.”
She told him about the found ID badge. “I’m thinking this guy could have worked at a secure facility, so if we can figure out where Crandall Thompson was employed, we might be closer to solving a few mysteries.”
“We? I thought you had to take care of the Savory population and didn’t have time?”
He’d caught her. Had Kane not delivered his comment with a smile, and if he hadn’t been driving, she might have punched him in the arm. “My main goal is to figure out who killed Crandall Thompson. If that serves your purpose too, then all the better.”
The Senator leaned forward in his seat. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You think this secret facility might have a connection to the place I was supposed to look into?”
If she could answer that question, she’d already be a detective. “To be honest, I’m not sure what his card opens. My imagination might be working overtime. It’s probably not something secret.”
Kane pulled in front of the station but let the engine idle. “While you take care of your work, I need to find out who messed with Paul’s leg.”
She had no idea how he planned to accomplish that, and she wasn’t about to ask. “Works for me. I need to meet Earl anyway.”
Once she said goodbye to both of them, she hightailed it over to Earl’s farm, without stopping inside the office to check in. The news of the implant would surely be written all over her face, and she didn’t need Harriet grilling her.
When Sky arrived at the farm, thankfully Pearl wasn’t there. From the backseat, Sky grabbed the silver cone-shaped object she and Kane had unearthed in the caves. If anyone could tell her what the item was, it would be Earl. Before she opened the car door, he was down the ramp to meet her. He must have a camera at the entrance since he always seemed to know when she was there. She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and eased out.
He motored closer. “What do you got there? Oh, is that the thing you found in the cave?”
“Yes.”
“Well, lemme have a look-see.” She handed it to him. “It’s light. That’s good. Could be alien.”
She leaned in closer. “You think?”
“It’s hard to tell. Mind if I keep it for a few days? I want to do some research.”
“Sure.” If anyone would keep it safe, it would be Earl.
“Come inside. I left the ID tag on the counter.”
She followed him in. “Are you burning candles? It smells like jasmine.”
She swore he blushed. “Pearl brought a bunch over. Said my house needed romancing up.”
That sounded like something Pearl would say. Sky spotted the white ID tag and picked it up. Light from the window reflected off the plastic to reveal a hologram—something Earl failed to mention. “Did you notice this image?”
He wheeled closer and wiggled his gnarled fingers. “No.” He tilted the plastic. “Well, I’ll be. What do you suppose it is?”
She studied the small reflective figure. “It looks like a perfume bottle. Kane and I just visited the Fleur de Paris. They have a white logo like this on the front door.”
“Now why in the dickens would the dead guy work at a perfume factory? He was no sissy.”
She’d leave that comment alone. She doubted she would have connected the dots if she hadn’t made the visit. “Perhaps he worked as a landscaper at the perfume factory, or worked to maintain those massive air conditioning units. Something macho like that.”
Earl nodded. “You might want to call Ray Strand or Cecelia Roberts. They both work at the Fleur de Paris.” He pronounced it, Flour-de-Pear-ee.
“I forgot about that.” Cecelia was basically a bottle washer, and Ray worked on the landscaping crew. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Ray knew about the Senator’s visit.
Sky pulled out her iPad and looked up the number for the factory. After three transfers, she finally got a hold of the manager, Mr. LeFloch.
“This is Dalton LeFloch,” he said in his distinctive lilt.
Sky i
ntroduced herself, and he said he remembered her, though not fondly she was sure. “I found a badge that I believe belonged to one of your workers—a Crandall Thompson.”
Paper rustled. Finally, Mr. LeFloch cleared his throat. “We don’t have anyone by that name.”
Right and she wasn’t a cop. “You’re familiar with all the workers? Even the names of those who work outside?”
“Yes, but I can have my assistant double check in case we hired someone recently who I wasn’t told about.”
Liar. “You do that.” She gave him her number and disconnected.
Earl tapped his leg. “I’m bettin’ he wouldn’t admit the man worked there?”
“No. I’m thinking there’s a definite connection between Crandall and the factory.”
“I can’t remember the last time you were wrong about anything.”
“You are too sweet.”
“Say, I hear you’re working a case with Senator Overton’s security man.”
She opened her mouth and shut it just as quickly. “How did you hear that?” Earl never claimed to be a mind reader.
He lowered his chin and looked up. “A little birdie told me.”
“Damned Harriet.” Sky had said nothing about going to Page with Kane. She needed to remind Harriet not to make stuff up.
“Now don’t go getting yourself in a tizzy. She’s worried about you. Thinks you need to hook up with a good man.”
Sky didn’t need this conversation. Defending her decision not to openly work with Kane was her choice and no one else’s. “I know she means well.” Sky picked up the badge and stuck it in her purse. With Earl’s fingerprints all over the plastic, there was no need to preserve the evidence. “Let me know if you learn anything about my find.”
“Will do. Be careful now.”
“Oh, before I go, I want to run something by you.” She told him about the new theory of her break-in. “If they didn’t find the badge at my place, they might think to come back here.”
“Don’t worry about me. I got more fire power than a small army.”
“That’s what scares me the most.”
He laughed, and she hugged him goodbye. An energy she hadn’t felt all day zoomed through her. She couldn’t wait to run Crandall Thompson’s name through the military database to see what else she could learn about the mystery man. His tattoo fit in with the fact most of the bases around here were Air Force. In fact, both Luke and Williams Air Force Bases were located near Phoenix, and the Davis–Monthan Air Force Base sat next to Tucson. However, this Thompson dude could just as easily have come from an Air Force base in Utah. Clearly, research was in order.
The drive home only seemed to take a few minutes since her mind raced from one topic to another. If the government had put the implant into the Senator’s leg, why would they need to know his location? A simple GPS would have done the trick. When they’d taken him for the procedure, had they used sodium pentothal or some kind of GHB to erase his memory? Sheesh. She was just glad she didn’t live in Washington where espionage happened day in and day out.
Chapter Twelve
Sky rose early, ate a quick breakfast, and headed into work, eager to find out about Crandall Thompson. For safekeeping, she entered the ID tag as evidence and then logged the find into the murder book.
Next, she typed in Crandall Thompson’s name into the database and tapped her foot while the computer ball spun on her screen. Sixty seconds later, it came up empty. Damn. He’d been in the service, so why wasn’t his name showing?
As she pondered why his name didn’t show, her email dinged with the results of the dead man’s fingerprints. Ah, ha! That’s why. His real name was Randall Tyler. He’d been commissioned at Hill Air Force base in Ogden, Utah, and was still listed on active duty at his death. So why did he have a swipe card with a different name on it? Was he working undercover?
After further investigation, his death brought up more questions than it solved. Sky found his home address and debated how to proceed. Even though Randall Tyler aka Crandall Thompson was no longer among the living, he might have confided in a neighbor or a girlfriend about what he was really doing.
Sky pushed back her chair, and then explained to Harriet where she was going. “I don’t think I’ll be gone long.”
“You should take Kane with you.”
“Why’s that? I can handle myself.”
Harriet shrugged. “Just saying. You start poking your nose in where it doesn’t belong, and the next thing you know the killers will come after you, or worse, the U.S. Government.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
As soon as she stepped outside of Harriet’s hearing, she forwarded the information to Kane, thinking this might help the senator. It was possible the senator knew this Randall Tyler and what kind of undercover work he was doing while working at the perfume factory.
Once Sky arrived at his address, she was a bit disappointed that he lived in a rundown area about fifteen miles from town. No one was on the street to talk to, so she’d have to go door-to-door.
One hour later, she left, having learned that Crandall Thompson was an honest and helpful guy. None of the neighbors had ever seen him with a woman and said that he kept to himself. Only one elderly gentleman had been aware Randall aka Crandall had been in the military at all.
After running into that dead end, she returned to the office.
“How did it go?” Harriet asked.
“No one knew anything.”
“That’s a shame.”
All during the ride home, Sky couldn’t help but wonder how the perfume factory was connected to some secret operation. Even the senator didn’t know. While it was a farfetched idea, she wondered if the factory was a front for some kind of deep underground military base, or DUMB for short. Many of the locals claimed there were several in Arizona.
Time to do more research. She searched Google for anything related to these military bases. On the third link, she hit pay dirt. Someone listed as whistleblower2 authored one site. He said he’d worked at a place called Blackthorn Base, off 89, near Page. No address was listed, but as outrageous as it appeared, it was possible there could be an underground base below the perfume factory. The many air handlers outside the greenhouse made that seem possible.
She read on. When this person learned of the atrocities conducted there, he decided it was time to quit. While he was now in hiding—which was why he couldn’t reveal his identity—he wanted the world to know what the military was really up to.
She read the introduction. “Oh my God.” Blackthorn was five levels deep. Six, if she counted the underground parking level. That made sense since a secret operation wouldn’t want a lot of cars parked right above it.
Not that everything she read on the Internet was correct, but this was detailed enough to give her pause.
Level 1 was plain creepy. Apparently, all of the workers first weighed in, were given a navy blue jumpsuit, and had their weight logged into the computer. If the worker gained or lost more than three pounds in a day, they were subjected to a physical exam, most likely because the base believed their workers were capable of stealing stuff.
Level 2: This was where the human research was conducted. Shivers crawled up her spine at that concept. Among the topics were mental telepathy, mind control, hypnosis, remote viewing, and out-of-body experiences. Okay, that last one was actually kind of cool. She’d like to learn more about that. Intergalactic space travel wasn’t included in this list, but perhaps that happened at another military base. There was mention of a laser weapon that could cause some major discomfort to its target. Thank God the military men who shot at her and Earl weren’t from this Base. Bullets seemed benign compared to a laser that burned holes in its victims. Also on this level was a section where the scientists could lower a person’s heartbeat to put him into static shock. Sky wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but apparently, this condition enabled them to reprogram the brain. “Jesus.” Had this happened to Dan J
oe or the Senator?
Level 3 – Alien housing. Her fingers nearly slipped off the mouse. Was this for real? Sky leaned closer, not wanting to miss a word. This level was circular in order to house the electro-magnetic generator, which was nearly two hundred feet in diameter. There were five entrances, plus an escape door to the fourth floor, though she couldn’t figure out why they’d build such a thing on the floor where the aliens were housed. The article went on to describe the intense security, probably like Kane was used to. Armed guards patrolled constantly. To move about, one had to use a handprint or a retinal scan station.
She leaned back in her seat, recalling that the greenhouse had some kind of scan. Oh, shit, maybe the entrance to the Base was through the greenhouse. She’d have to ask the Senator how he got in—assuming he remembered that part of his experience.
Level 4 – This was given the name, Hell-hole Hall. It held the genetics labs. Experiments were done on fish, otters, birds, and mice, which made them different from their original forms. Using otters, however, made little sense given this was Arizona.
She scrolled down. “Holy crap!” she whispered.
There were pictures, probably doctored in Photoshop, of multi-armed and multi-legged humans, as well as those of bat-like creatures up to seven-feet tall. She read out loud. “Aliens have taught the humans a lot about genetics, things both useful and dangerous.” The article went on to say that people, usually drugged, were kept in cages, often crying for help. She had to admit this seemed too ridiculous. What was even more absurd was the reference to shifters—people who could change into an animal at will and then change back again.
Level 5 – Prison cells.
She couldn’t finish reading. This was too gruesome. Kane would laugh at the article, stating whoever had created this had a vivid imagination with too much time on his hands. He might be right, but what if he wasn’t? Sky decided it wouldn’t hurt to check out the perfume factory tonight and see for herself—without Kane’s skeptical help.
* * *
Right before her shift ended, she’d asked Harvey to drive her to the garage to pick up the repaired cruiser. She wouldn’t have bothered, but in case she needed to investigate something at the factory without them shooing her away, she needed to look official.