Conspiracies and Stuff: A Dreamland Junction Mystery (3 page)

The Dreamland Junction police station was small, and located in the basement of the city building, along with the jail.

When I walked in, Fawn Lyons was just finishing up a call. Fawn was the dayshift dispatcher and receptionist.

She was a mousy girl with dirty dishwater hair and little brown eyes. Though most people tended to ignore her, I kind of liked Fawn. If my mother were still alive, she and Fawn would have been the same age. In fact, they were in the same graduating class.

I didn’t actually remember my mother, but I loved to sit and listen to Fawn tell me stories of what Lucinda Adams was like as a teen.

According to Fawn, my parents met in high school and married shortly after graduation. My father’s family had moved to Dreamland Junction when my grandfather was stationed out at Ellis Air Force Base.

Fawn looked up and gave me one of her timid smiles. “Hi Kat. I haven’t seen you in here in awhile.”

“Been busy jazzing up my new place.”

“Yeah, I heard that you rented a trailer out at the Sagebrush Mobile Home Park. If you ask me, that’s getting a little too close to, you know what.”

By you know what, she meant Area 51. In actuality, the Sagebrush was only a couple miles outside of town, therefore only a couple miles closer to the infamous Area 51.

Fawn was the type to be afraid of her own shadow, so I supposed it might seem a little weird to her to move closer to a so called, UFO hotspot.

“It’s nice,” I said, putting on a tolerant smile. “It is so quiet, and there isn’t a lot of light pollution, which means I can sit by my telescope and look for flying saucers at night.”

Her eyes widened and she seemed a little flustered.

I laughed. “I’m kidding, Fawn. I don’t have time to take out my telescope. Is Uncle Sonny in?”

“He sure is.”

“Thanks,” I said, before stepping through the door that led to the back of the station. I found Uncle Sonny with his head buried in a file.

“Is that the Molly Peterson case?” I asked, though I knew it was. I could see the woman’s picture clipped to an autopsy report.

When my uncle looked up, he was wearing a scowl, which meant he wasn’t happy about something, usually me.

“Detective Moss told me about you showing up at the crime scene last night.”

“That’s true,” I admitted.

“Are you smoking that wacky weed? He said he could smell it.” Uncle Sonny was drawing his big bushy brows together, which meant he was totally pissed.

“Oh come on Uncle Sonny. You know me better than that. Moss is always trying to get me into trouble.”

“Yeah right.”

I was offended, mostly because I was being totally honest. I didn’t smoke pot, and that jerk Moss
was
always trying to get me into trouble.

Uncle Sonny was a bit rough around the edges, but that was just him. He’d been a cop for a long time, and after awhile that kind of job had to rub some of the shine off a person. He was my mother’s older brother, and although he seemed like a grouchy old cop, I knew he was really just a big teddy bear. Anyone who would take in six month old twins and raise them alone, had to have a little something special about them.

“What did the medical examiner determine to be the cause of death?” I asked, changing the subject before he could start lecturing me on the evils of hanging out with people like Spencer Judson.

“Undetermined. There was no trauma, no illness or disease. Her heart just stopped,” he informed me.

“From what I saw when I was there … it looked as if she’d died of fright.”

“Yeah, I saw the crime scene photos, but that’s actually very rare. Maybe if she were seventy years old and had a bad heart.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t make a lot of sense.

“I can’t believe they didn’t find anything at all. No drugs or poisons?” I asked.

“We won’t know until the toxicology comes back. That could be a few weeks.”

“What about her kid, Sean Peterson. I heard he was missing.” I was determined to get as much information as I could before he shut down, which he’d do as soon as he figured out I was interested in investigating the case.

It would take him a minute. Usually I focused more on Area 51, and other government cover-ups, but this one was pulling at my heartstrings. The little boy was out there somewhere, and I didn’t dare let myself think of what might be happening to him.

“One of her neighbors saw Ms Peterson and her son leave their house about midnight, so we know the child was with her, at least he was with her at midnight.

“So no one knows where they were headed so late?”

Uncle Sonny shook his head. “Nope, but there were some packed bags in the trunk, like she were heading out of town in a quick hurry.”

He was right. None of this was making any sense.

“You would think that if she were murdered, there would be evidence of someone forcing her off the road. Was the car binged up at all?”

Again he shook his head. “Maybe it is natural causes … drugs or something, and the boy wandered off and is lost in the desert. We have a search party combing the area right now.”

“Or maybe she pulled off to help someone in trouble and they jumped her, or she stopped to look at something.”

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Well somehow she got off the road, and her son disappeared. I want you to stay out of this one.”

It crossed my mind that I should probably tell Sonny about the guy that came into the Landing, but then I thought better of it. He’d lock me up for the night, just to make sure I didn’t go meet the guy, and then the entire police force would descend on him as soon as he showed up, if he showed at all.

“Do you really think I have the time to solve your case for you … between work and unpacking?”

I’d discovered over the years, responding to Uncle Sonny with a question was the safest route. That way, I wouldn’t have to outright lie, and I’d still be able to ease his mind some.

He grunted. “Well just stay clear of it … also, if you see Tuke, let him know I’ll be bringing my old Ford in for a brake job this week.”

Tuke was my twin brother, and short for Tukey. His real name was Keith, though no one called him that. My parents apparently thought it would be cute to have both our names
start with a K, so they named us Keith and Katherine. Keith was older by two minutes, and he never let me forget it.

Both Tuke and Spencer worked at Fat Bob’s Auto Repair, which gave me two advantages. One, it was easy to keep up on what my brother was doing, plus I never had to worry about car repairs. If something went wrong, one of them would get it fixed in a hurry.

My brother and best friend were so awesome. What more could a girl ask for?

“Will do,” I tossed the words over my shoulder as I was leaving.

The longer I stuck around, the more he’d push the, don’t get involved thing, and I would really prefer to keep that out of the conversation at the moment. As far as I was concerned, staying out of it wasn’t an option when a little boy’s life may be on the line.

It wasn’t that I didn’t think Uncle Sonny was capable, but he had to do things by the book. I didn’t.

* * *

It wasn’t easy finding someone to go with me to meet Mister Mysterious, especially when I mentioned that they’d have to hide and watch from a distance. Spencer was out of the question, on account of him being scheduled to attend some alien abductee support group. I was really beginning to fear for my friend’s sanity, not that he’d ever really been all that sane to begin with.

I would have asked Celeste, my other best friend, but she was working the nightshift at Bronson’s, which was Dreamland’s answer to a grocery and hardware super center. Celeste wouldn’t get home until at least midnight, which of course would be too late.

Tuke would have to due. He was even less happy than I was with the arrangement. My brother was the type that liked to mind his own business, which of course didn’t include getting mixed up in a homicide investigation, or meeting strange men in the desert.

I figured he’d get over it sooner or later.

Tuke and I looked nothing alike. I resembled my mother, with the same color of hair and eyes, while Tuke looked like my father. Of course, all I had to refer to when it came to what my parents looked like, were pictures.

My brother had the same light hair, fair complexion, and blue eyes as our father, Jack Parker. Tuke was also very tall, just like Dad had been.

We barely looked like brother and sister, let alone twins. Our disposition was opposite as well. I didn’t mind ruffling a few feathers, while Tuke was basically a good old boy. He’d just as soon sit home with a six-pack and watch the game; as opposed to worrying about what dirty tricks the black ops people were up to.

“Oh come on Kat! I can’t believe you didn’t just blow this guy off. If he really had something to say, he would have gone to the police,” Tuke complained. “You know … there’s been some serial killer strangling women in Utah. It wouldn’t be unheard of for the guy to change his location a little. We’re not that far away from there.”

Parking the car smack dab between the legs of the giant green alien, I turned to my brother. “Relax Tuke. That’s why you’re here.”

The little parking lot - rest stop, located at the crossroads where Highway 318 and Highway 375 met, was another tourist draw. People loved to stop and take photos of the giant alien.

But at the moment, the rest stop was dark and deserted.

“Where am I supposed to be while you are doing your cloak and dagger thing?” Tuke asked.

I pointed to the men’s restroom. “Just hang out over there and watch that he doesn’t pull a weapon on me, or try and force me into his vehicle.”

There was a single light burning above the door of the restroom, but he would still be out of sight if he went inside and kept the door open a crack.

Sighing, Tuke got out of the car. “You owe me.”

Tuke was gone no more than a couple minutes when I saw a pair of headlights on Route 375, coming from the direction of Rachel.

Rachel was the little town near Area 51.

My mouth fell open when the silver
Lamborghini Veneno
parked next to my old Honda. Now there really was no doubt this was my guy. No one within a hundred miles of Dreamland Junction would drive a four million-dollar car. It was a work of art, and very futuristic.

Having a hot car didn’t let the guy off the hook for being a serial killer, or some other kind of whack job, so I played it safe. Instead of getting out, I rolled down my window.

“Hello,” I said, my voice sounding a little more timid than what I cared for.

He held out his hand. “I’m Levan.”

“Hello,” I repeated, which was all I could really get out. My tongue felt as if it were tied in knots.

When my hand made contact with his, I experienced a moment of panic, but quickly brought my emotions under control. His flesh was a little on the cool side, but not unpleasant.

There was a touch of amusement in his smile. “I get that you’re a smart girl, and you’re trying to play it safe, but it would be easier to talk if you got out of your car.”

I quickly weighed the risk.

Since he was parked so near my car, I would be way too close to the passenger door of his vehicle if I got out. He could shove me in and be gone before Tuke had the opportunity to get to me.

The easy answer was to take the conversation away from his car.

Sighing, I rolled up the window and got out. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d be more comfortable sitting at one of the tables,” I told him, pointing to a wooden picnic table in the grassy area near the restrooms.

The table was well away from the cars, but Tuke would still be able to see what was happening.

Nodding, he followed me to the table.

“So what is it that you have to say to me, that you couldn’t say at the Landing this morning? By the way … my name is Kat,” I added.

“I know who you are.”

Stopping, I looked back at him. “I assumed as much, but
how
do you know me?”

“We are looking for the same boy that you are. I can tell you for sure that he isn’t lost in the desert. Someone took him,” he said, ignoring my question.

Damn! I really hated it when people ignored my questions.

Well he wasn’t getting off that easy. “How do you know who I am?”

Stopping near the table, he stared into my eyes and I felt my insides turn to mush. A smile touched his lips. “I’ve actually known who you are for a long time.”

This guy seemed to be as talented as I was at averting answers.

“And what do you mean by
we
?” I asked, deciding it was probably best to move the conversation along to the information I really wanted. I would tackle the, how he knew me question later.