by L C Hayden
What Readers Are Saying . . .
About What Lies Beyond the Fence
Overall a very good read. Good catchy opening. Lots of suspense and good character development. Possibly the best Bronson book in the series.
Richard Schwein
FBI Special Agent in Charge, retired
Author of the Ben Douglas Series
A pretty good book—a fun and easy read.
Daniel Rios
Cordova, Cebu (Philippines)
The story line is really, really good. I never saw the end coming. The book had me rushing through it on pins and needles! Excellent. Definitely worth my reading time.
Elizabeth Speed
Texas
What Lies Beyond the Fence is a very engaging book. The details took me to places far and beyond the written word. Hayden is certainly skillful at weaving, and intertwining the characters into a very suspenseful plot, or was that plots? She is a gifted writer that kept me wanting to continue reading into the wee hours of the night. I highly recommend this fabulous book.
Jean Addis
North Carolina
About the Harry Bronson Series:
When the Past Haunts You, When Death Intervenes, Why Casey Had to Die, others
I absolutely fell in love with Harry Bronson. I’m in a book club and we all love the Bronson Series so very much. Thank you for writing these books.
Trinity Barnett
Pennsylvania
Settle into a comfortable reading chair and prepare for plot twists and surprises!
Molly Weston
Meritorious Mysteries
About Secrets of the Tunnels
Secrets of the Tunnels is a terrific book. I love everything Hayden writes.
Shan Giraud
Texas
About the Aimee Brent Series:
Vengeance in My Heart, ILL Conceived
The series is full of colorful characters you’ll remember. It’s a smorgasbord of suspense, with a good dollop of romance.
Valerie Stocking
New Mexico
About the Miracle and Angels Series:
Angels and Miracles Abound, Angels Around Us, When Angels Touch You
The series sucked me in right from the start and left me in a perpetual state of goose bumps. . . . The writing is beautiful. I marvel at the smoothness of the transitions.
Kathleen Chalmers
About the Children’s Picture Books
Puppy Dog and His Bone, What Am I? What Am I?
The pictures are sooooo cute . . . my little brother’s favorite . . . Big hit!
Amazon Reviews
List of L. C. Hayden’s books
Harry Bronson Mystery Series
When the Past Haunts You
When Death Intervenes
Why Casey Had to Die
Novels featuring Harry Bronson
What Others Know (Part 2)
When Colette Died (Part 1) (Bronson not featured)
Where Secrets Lie
Who’s Susan?
End of the Road, a Bronson Short Story
Aimee Brent Mystery Series
Vengeance in my Heart
ILL Conceived
Inspirational
Nonfiction:
Angels and Miracles Abound
Angels Around Us
When Angels Touch You
Fiction:
Bell-Shaped Flowers
Children’s picture books:
Puppy Dog and His Bone
What Am I? What Am I?
Paranormal
The Drums of Gerald Hurd
Writing Advice
Help! I Want to Write
Contributed to
A Second Helping of Murder (a cookbook)
Haunted Highways (collection of haunted places in Texas)
Edited and compiled
Breaking & Entering: The Road to Success
(a Sisters in Crime how-to guide)
Random Thoughts, a Collection of Writings
(by senior citizens)
What Lies Beyond the Fence
A Harry Bronson Mystery/Thriller
by
L. C. Hayden
Cover design by
Cover design by Matt Stone from 100 coves
What Lies Beyond the Fence
Copyright 2017
by
L. C. Hayden
ISBN-13:
978-1542399012
ISBN-10:
1542399017
Angel’s Trumpet Press
Printed in the United States of America
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electrical or mechanical, including photography, recording, or by any information or retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in reviews.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Dedication
S/Sgt. Roger Cobb Hallberg
US Army Special Forces
To all MIA and POW’s
But especially to
S./Sgt. Roger Cobb Hallberg
Green Beret
MIA (March 24, 1967, Viet Nam)
Acknowledgements
Lots of kudos goes to the people who honored me by allowing me to use their names: Green Beret Roger Cobb Hallberg (courtesy of his sister, Anne Hallberg Holt,) Norma Karsteter, Aubrey Hamilton, Ellen Biebesheimer, Joe Randig, and Rory Duncan (courtesy of her mother, Mandy Duncan.) I salute you and thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Other folks who are behind the scenes include the manuscript’s first readers. I am very thankful to all those of you who read, critiqued, and edited the manuscript: Diane, Joseph, Yvonne, Daniel, Jean, Norma, Lana, and especially, as always, Dick. The book is so much better because of you.
A special big thanks goes to my editor, Kit Duncan, who worked with me to help me meet my deadlines. The suggestions she made to improve this story are priceless. Thanks, Kit!
Last, but not least, a million thanks goes to all my readers. Without you, I wouldn’t have a reason to write. I appreciate your support and loyalty. I couldn’t make it without you. I love hearing from you. Contact me through my website at www.lchayden.com. While you’re there, sign up to receive my newsletter.
If you’re not my Facebook friend, please befriend me at https://www.facebook.com/lc.hayden.3 and like my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/MysteriesbyHayden/?fref=ts.
As always, a very special thanks to my husband, Richard Hayden, who supports me by driving me everywhere, creating and maintaining my website, and always being there for me. When Bronson has a decision to make or he encounters a problem, I turn to Rich and we talk it through. Thank you, hon, for being you.
Chapter 1
He was there.
Watching.
Waiting.
For what? Harry Bronson couldn’t answer that, but somehow he knew the man sat somewhere behind him, eyes scrutinizing him.
Bronson sat in a pew in one of Pittsburgh’s friendliest and smallest churches. Not exactly the best place to turn around and analyze the audience. Still, as best as he could, he turned his head and looked to his left.
Everyone sat like him, eyes focused ahead, except for an old man who was nodding off.
Bronson cast his glance at each of the service’s attendees. No one stood out. He looked ahead, then to his right.
Carol, Bronson’s wife, poked him in the ribs. He turned his attention back to the pastor and waited a couple seconds. It’d be safe for him to sneak a glance at Carol. Big mistake.
Sh
e squinted and stared back at him.
Oh, oh. She knew he was being watched. He couldn’t worry her, not again. After all, he was retired—okay, he had been forced to retire—but still retired. All those feelings in his gut should have been left behind when he walked out of the Dallas Police Department. All the danger, all the ugliness lived in his past.
Yet, here he sat, paying attention to his gut, knowing someone was out there.
Bronson turned and gave Carol a reassuring smile. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Just wonderin’ how many people are here.”
She continued to stare at him, if possible, her eyes even narrower than before.
He should have kept quiet. Carol always knew when he was lying—especially when he was attempting to protect her.
Bronson wrapped his arm around his wife and pretended to listen to the pastor.
Behind him, he knew the man sat, waiting.
But for what?
And for how long?
Chapter 2
Service ended, and like always, Carol used the time to socialize, which was good. It gave Bronson an instant to memorize as many of the faces as possible. An elderly couple, probably husband and wife. A young couple trying to control their three toddlers who had returned from children’s church. Four gray-haired ladies. Three middle-aged men. Groups of people walking, standing, laughing, and chatting. No one in particular stood out. Yet, one of them . . .
Carol stood beside him, arms crossed, her features bland, but still they shouted a million questions.
Bronson reached for her elbow and led her down the aisle. “Ready, honey? Let’s go do our usual. What restaurant do you feel like patronizin’?”
“We told Mike and Ellen that we would meet them at that Italian place, remember?”
Of course he remembered, he had just temporarily forgotten. “You think I’d forget about meetin’ my ex-partner and the love of his life? No way.”
“Precisely. So why did you? What’s going on?”
They stepped outside the church, and an unusual cool spring breeze hit them, but the chill Bronson felt didn’t so much as come from nature as from seeing a familiar face, one he thought he wouldn’t see again.
Detective Joe Randig of the Pittsburgh police force half sat, half leaned on the hood of his blue Mazda. He nodded at Bronson and smiled at Carol.
“Detective, imagine seein’ you here.” Bronson indicated the church. “You could have joined us.”
“Didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Very thoughtful. We’re on our way to meet Mike and Ellen. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Actually, no. I’m working, and I need to get back before someone notices I’m missing. I’m just glad you’re still here and haven’t left town.”
Bronson glanced at his motor home parked across the street. “Since I retired to travel all over the U.S., I’m never in a hurry to leave a place I like. What brings you here?”
“I have a favor to ask.” He spoke to Bronson but looked at Carol.
“Does this involve a case?” she asked. “He’s retired.”
“I realize that. And yes, it does involve a case, but it’s more like a favor—and there’s no danger involved. Absolutely none.”
“I’m listenin’.”
“Ever heard of Eric’s Landing?”
Bronson and Carol exchanged looks. Carol shook her head. Bronson said, “Not that I know of.”
“Frankly, I’d be surprised if you had. It’s an isolated place, not even sure where. But my granddaughter lives there. My daughter—” Randig cleared his throat and looked away. “Three years ago, she passed away.”
Carol squeezed Randig’s shoulder. “We’re so sorry. We had no idea.”
“I don’t . . . talk about it much.” He shrugged. “No reason to.”
“How can I help you?” Bronson asked.
“Like I was saying, my granddaughter lives there. My son-in-law thought this was a good place to raise a teenager who’d lost her mother.” His gaze returned to the trees, his mind obviously focused on some long lost thoughts.
Bronson grasped the opportunity to glance at Carol. She looked at him and nodded once. “I need to finish discussing some things with the ladies,” she said. “Why don’t you two continue while I’m gone?” She gave Randig a reassuring smile and walked away.
Bronson waited for the detective to compose himself. “Don’t know about you, but I’m a bit chilled. Why don’t we go inside the church? There’s a couple of benches in the entry way.”
Randig nodded and followed Bronson inside the church.
“I used to come to church all of the time.” Randig focused on a carving of a crucifix that hung in the entry way. “Ever since my Louise passed away, I've seen no reason to continue coming.”
“The world is not always an ideal place. No reason to blame God for that.”
“No reason not to.”
Bronson leaned back on the bench. “Sometimes that’s what we need. Someone to blame. That makes you feel better?”
“It doesn’t. What would make me feel better is being able to see my granddaughter. I lost them both that day.”
“You said she lives in Eric’s Landin’?”
Randig nodded.
“Can’t you visit her there?”
“Like I started to say, my son-in-law—”
“And that is?”
“Chris Karsteter.”
“He won’t let you visit her?”
“Worse than that. The entire place is blocked. No one can enter—or maybe even leave—without the permission of the Elders—and they’re dead set against allowing anyone in.”
“So this is some kind of a cult?”
“Basically, although they prefer to think of it as a community. This place has existed for around fifty years. Supposedly, it’s a peaceful, quiet place, filled with happy people. There’s no crime. No hatred, no prejudice.”
“You think a place like that really exists?”
“I live in the city, and I’ve seen a lot of ugliness, as I’m sure you have. I have my doubts.”
“Well said. So you want me to get your granddaughter out of there?”
Randig sighed. “I would love to see her, but that’s not the main reason I contacted you. Looks like for the first time in the uh, community’s history, someone did a big no-no. Someone stole something very valuable. I’m not privileged to know what. The Elders know that Chris is my son-in-law, so they asked me to help. They won’t tell me where Eric’s Landing is, but I bet you anything that it’s out of my jurisdiction. I’m almost ready to retire. I can’t compromise that. You, on the other hand, are retired. I thought maybe you could go. Maybe if I give you a letter, you could sneak it to my granddaughter. Maybe even take a picture of her. Maybe.”
“If I go,” Bronson said.
“I can understand your hesitation, and I’m sorry I can’t really give you any information. Truth is, I don’t know much. But Everett over there—” Randig pointed to a man who leaned on the wall, his arms crossed, his gaze drilling them. “He’s your man.”
Bronson immediately recognized him. The suited man had sat three pews behind him, to his right. On his suit lapel, he wore a gold brooch with the letters EL. Eric’s Landing, Bronson assumed.
Everett approached. “Everett Henderson.” He offered Bronson his hand.
Bronson accepted it. He had a firm, grasp. Definitely a man in authority.
“I’m sure the two of you have a lot of talking to do. No need for me to hang around. Bronson, I’ll see you. Let me know what you decide.” Randig waved goodbye to Carol and walked away.
Everett waited until Randig could no longer hear them. “What would you like to know?”
“I’d rather you start talkin’. I’ll listen.”
“Eric’s Landing—”
“And that’s where?”
“This may sound like I’m feeding you a line. But I’m not privileged to reveal its location. Not even the residents in Eric
’s Landing knows where it is, and we want to keep it that way. It’s been a long battle maintaining its secrecy, but so far, we’ve succeeded.”
“That’s goin’ to make it hard for me to get there—provided I decide to go.”
“I have a small camper. All the windows will be closed. I drive, you stay in the back.”
“Why all of the cloak and dagger?”
“Eric’s Landing is our Shangri-La. We want to control who comes in. We start getting strangers, we start getting problems. In almost half a century, we’ve never had a single crime committed. Not ever. Until now. That’s why we want you to help us.”
“Who’s we?”
“The Elders.”
“And they are?”
“We’re a group of people who make sure all is running smoothly in Eric’s Landing.”
We. He was one of the Elders. One of the big shots. “Continue.”
“A couple of days ago, a teenager—a boy barely seventeen, possibly aided by his girlfriend—took something that is very valuable to us. These kids are people we love and trust, and they stole from us.”
“So you know who did it?”
“We have our strong suspicion.”
“If you know who it is, why don’t you take care of it yourselves?”
“It’s not that simple. These are kids. Like I told you, he’s only seventeen, and if the girl is involved, she’s only fourteen, maybe fifteen.”
Same age Lorraine was when she first started to walk outside the law. Bronson forced his thoughts away from his sister and back to what was being discussed. “Why would that complicate matters?”
“Because we don’t want to punish them. We want to straighten them out. We figure you could talk to them, put the fear of the law in them, or do whatever you do. They’re good kids. They’ll listen to a stranger, we’re sure. Especially if they think they’re going to jail. You have the distinct honor of returning our treasured item and help two troubled teenagers at the same time.”