 
#

Getting Somewhere

# By Eric Hodges

# Copyright 2016 Eric Hodges

# Smashwords Edition

ISBN 9781310691584

License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite retailer. Thank you for your support.

Table of Contents

PROLOG

CHAPTER 1 - LEAVING

CHAPTER 2 - NEW LIFE

CHAPTER 3 - THE NEW TOWN

CHAPTER 4 - SHOP DELIVERY

CHAPTER 5 - FIREWORKS

CHAPTER 6 - DINNER AT HOME

CHAPTER 7 - LIFE ON THE FARM

CHAPTER 8 - THE HALF TRUTH

CHAPTER 9 - UNDERCOVER

CHAPTER 10 - THE SET UP

CHAPTER 11 - FARM LIFE

CHAPTER 12 - THE SCORECARD

CHAPTER 13 - BLACK GOLD

CHAPTER 14 - ENEMY CAMP

CHAPTER 15 - THE CAVALRY

CHAPTER 16 - SHOTS FIRED

CHAPTER 17 - THE CALM

CHAPTER 18 - COVERING

CHAPTER 19 - QUIET

CHAPTER 20 - STORM

CHAPTER 21 - SPIES

CHAPTER 22 - THE CALM

CHAPTER 23 - RUMBLES

CHAPTER 24 - COMFORTS

CHAPTER 25 - FINAL TALLY

About Eric Hodges

Contact Eric Hodges

### PROLOG

Wheeler stared out the open cargo door of the Chinook heavy transport helicopter, letting the hot air blast try to cool him on this insufferable night over the flatlands of the Kunar Province. The helicopter was buffeting as the air density changed low to the ground and Wheeler was holding onto the door frame getting his shoulder pounded but it could not be helped. They were going in low and fast to minimize exposure to Taliban fire on their way to pick up a SEAL team that had been shot up outside of Asadabad in Afghanistan. The hulking Chinook was making the pickup because the Hummer the team used to get in to position had to be retrieved and Wheeler's helicopter was the only way to do it quickly. The hummer had the most sophisticated, prototype automatic cannon mounted to it that headquarters did not want to lose.

Wheeler had a dark premonition about this mission that he tried to dismiss as the normal, healthy anxiety of going into combat but it wasn't working. He struggled with the feelings on the flight but it was time now to put that aside and concentrate on the mission, getting the Seal team out and getting everybody back to base intact. His role was protection and he steeled himself to the job.

Wheeler was the defacto door gunner on this mission because they wanted to travel as light as possible. His normal duty station was that of the loadmaster, responsible for loading and unloading cargo, and they did not want the added weight of a full crew. So here was Wheeler, Jules Wheeler by birth with the surname he never used, alone in the back of the Chinook tow truck on a mission with the strongest sense of dread he could remember. He was sensitive to things that were about to happen, or could happen and this cat-like sixth sense had served him well out in the field. He had used it frequently to avoid lethal dangers especially here, in a war zone, but this time he was helpless to alter the course of the mission and he was just stubborn enough force the helicopter in and out by a sheer act of will if he had to. He was preparing himself to push back any Taliban resistance that got in the way.

He bolstered his resolve, gripped his machine gun and dared the desert or anybody out there to try to stand in his way. He knew he was not invincible but he was not about to hesitate if the time came.

"Wheeler, you still back there?" It was Kevin on the intercom, the usual co-pilot up in the front.

"Hey Capt, I'm still here." Wheeler called both Kevin and Scott captain even though they were both Lieutenants.

"Look sharp back there, we're about five minutes out, and there are lights up ahead. We're going to pull up short and put this thing down."

"Copy" was all Wheeler said as he scanned the dark desert carefully.

The engine whine and blade whump changed pitch slightly as the nose of the helicopter rose to bleed off some speed. Wheeler could see the sparse dim lights inside a scattering of buildings that looked to be residences. They were widely spaced in a random order and Scott was turning the helicopter to slide in sideways a safe distance away and between two of the structures.

"Wheeler?" It was Kevin again.

"Here!" Wheeler replied over the noise.

"Lower the ramp to flat!" Kevin ordered. Flat meant the normally raised rear loading ramp needed to be lowered to be a horizontal extension of the cargo bay, partway deployed. It would be up out of the way for landing but only a short drop to the ground for speedy loading. Wheeler left the gunner position and went to the ramp controls in the back.

He saw the streak of light of the shoulder fired rocket scream up at a shallow angle out of his peripheral vision and fly through the open cargo door he had just left. Its rocket motor flashed inside the cargo space and exploded into the opposite side wall of the helicopter, carrying it's warhead outside the craft. It was the luckiest shot of the entire war in that the pilots still had control of the aircraft as it lurched sideways at an odd angle. The big helicopter rocked back to normal vertical and Scott lowered it the dozen feet to the ground, landing with a thump.

Wheeler did lose his balance but was up and moving quickly, grabbing the fire extinguisher and spraying the smoldering hole in the craft. No fuel lines were hit and there were no sparks but he did have a palpable urge to get back to the door gun. Luckily the machine gun at the side door was not hit, so he dropped the extinguisher and reached for the machine gun to aim at the insurgents that he knew were coming. He assumed the pose, purposely aiming at one of the houses and waited for his night vision to return. He heard the charge before he saw anything, so he aimed and had to wait only a moment.

The muzzle flash signaled he could wait no longer and he fired at the source to be rewarded with a muffled grunt. The muzzle flash squashed his night vision again but he didn't need it, he knew where to fire and released a few more rounds. More steps, fire, grunt. Steps, fire, grunt. Then it was silent and his night vision finally did return. The insurgents had come out from behind the building toward the front of the helicopter, but the Hummer and presumably the SEALS were at the rearmost building. It was quiet but Wheeler still felt danger. It wasn't over.

He was distracted by the heavy footfalls from the inside the helicopter made by Kevin and Scott making their way down the ladder in their flight boots.

"Are you guys all right?" Wheeler asked.

"Oh yeah, but we took one hell of a bump" Kevin replied. "What happened back here?"

Wheeler just pointed at the smoke still coming off the ragged edge of the hole in the skin of the ship and wondered aloud "We took a rocket blast. Will this thing still fly?"

"It felt fine, really. Except for the hard slew, it landed okay. We've got to take off fast, so let's collect us some SEALS and get out of here."

"Aye aye Capt." Wheeler said. "Stay here" as he bounded off the deck to the ground. He saw the SEALS moving around the Hummer to his right but he was attracted to the front house on the left. He moved carefully toward it confident he could sneak up on whatever was there, all the while his inner sense was screaming Danger, Danger. He blocked out the movements of the SEALS, ignored the bodies scattered in his path and allowed a laser focus to take over his entire being and turn him into a feral predator. The few moments it took to get to the building had allowed him time enough to get into full zombie mode, attentive to only the danger and acutely aware of every sound or movement.

Wheeler knew where the remaining hostiles were and where they were going so he needed to go around the building on the opposite side to come up behind them. He had his holstered pistol but he drew his assault knife, preferring the stealth capability. He quietly approached the side wall of the building that faced the SEALS and slid along quietly toward the back. He stuck his head out to see along the back wall of the building just in time to see a dark shape disappear at the far end and move to the front. He quickly made his way to the far corner following the shape, and looked around the next corner to see a smaller person hugging the wall, midway to the front. He was relieved there was only one but he did not relax.

Gripping his knife firmly, Wheeler moved slowly and carefully along the wall to intercept the person. In one smooth movement, he gripped the face of the person from behind, violently jerked the head back and something within him yelled 'stop!' freezing his knife in mid stroke. The person he was holding squirmed a bit but was no match for Wheeler's size and strength and Wheeler held the person immobile easily. Inside, he was a swirling mass of electrified confusion and thorough inaction. His quick reflexes and warrior instincts had vacated, leaving him holding his quarry with a raised knife and no idea what he should be doing.

Wheeler calmed himself for a moment to let the adrenaline subside, now aware of the SEALS moving around across the compound in the quiet of the night. He sheathed his knife and pulled his mini light out of his flight suit to take a look at the fighter he had immobilized against the wall.

His light shone into the face of a young girl that was no more than 13 years old, still holding an ancient rifle that was too corroded to actually fire. Wheeler was thunderstruck, he had just tried to kill a kid that was not really a threat. His inner danger warnings had betrayed him, there was a firestorm going off in his head, his blood pressure was pounding in his ears, his vision narrowed to points and all he could do was lean back against the wall and pant uncontrollably. He grabbed the old rifle automatically and pushed her away to run off into the dark.

"Hey buddy, are you ok?" The voice came at him as if from a great distance. "Hey fella" his arm shook "have you been hit?" Out of his fog, Wheeler saw the helmeted face of a combat soldier slowly come into focus. "Snap out of it, we gotta get out of here." The soldier helped him off the wall and they walked back to the helicopter to get on with the business of loading the Seals and equipment for departure. Wheeler went through the motions of being a loadmaster as if he were on autopilot: strapping down the Hummer, deploying the troop seats and making ready to depart, but the warrior within him was dead. He would have to solve his crisis outside of the Navy. He was done.

### CHAPTER 1

LEAVING

Wheeler drove through the pristine vacation villas on Park Boulevard, adjacent to the up-scale shopping district heading to Naval Air Station Coronado Island. The proud warriors of the Seahawk Support Wing would be short one mechanic after today. Today will be the last time the brakes of his old VW bus would squeal pulling up to a stop at the guard gate, the last time his identification badge would be used and the last time he would go to work in fatigues. No more would he be reminded of that night in Asadabad that continues to keep him up at night. He may never be fully free of the nightmares but at least, after today, the reminders would be gone.

He made short work of the checkout process, filling in most of the blanks on the retirement and separation forms that wanted to know about his future plans, with 'Unknown,' but he did list his next address as Emil's Small Engine Repair in the town of Temecula, a few hours north of San Diego. Wheeler's very short term plan was to bunk in the loft of his friend Emil's shop while he figured out what to do with the rest of his life. He had already emptied the apartment into the back of the VW, so when the base cleared him, he could just drive.

Nagging thoughts of his navy career, his future life and everything in between fought for attention in his head while he drove. Wheeler had spent years being a soldier that provided him with a generous helping of useless skills except for the mechanical ones. He liked to repair machines, from the helicopters he patched to the VW that he had rebuilt to the small stuff that Emil repaired to make his living, Wheeler liked all of it.

As he thought of all the machines he had repaired and adjusted, the turmoil in his head subsided. Wheeler needed the solitude of mechanical things right now, to clear his head and hopefully release some of his internal pressures. Suddenly he felt optimistic, rumbling along in the slow lane on his way to the simplicity of repairs. The slight break in his mental turmoil allowed him to notice he was running low on coffee and needed a cup, even though he was barely out of San Diego. The next off ramp advertised 'Meg's Diner' so he took it to go meet Meg.

Wheeler took a seat at the nearly full counter next to a woman that was about his age, 38, and not retired. Smudges of gray decorated her plaid work shirt and worn jeans, her early onset wrinkles were tanned and her calloused hands were not decorated with painted nails. Wheeler noticed that the distinctive muscle tone on her tanned forearms matched the rest of the ensemble as he sat down and ignored the menu. She was definitely a woman that worked with her hands.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked.

"Sure, help yourself" she said, over the bustle of the pre-lunch crowd.

"Looks like you've brought a bit of your pottery to lunch with you" he said, nodding at a smear on her arm.

She chewed through a bite of sandwich and said "I bring it with me everywhere so I don't forget where to go after lunch."

Wheeler ordered coffee to go and replied after the waitress had gone "I use post it notes. Then I don't have to wash." They both chuckled then he remembered his manners "Call me Wheeler."

She chewed the end of her sandwich and said "Call me Peg, and no, my twin sister does not own this place." She smiled at her own joke.

"I was not going to resort to such juvenile humor" Wheeler said with mock indigence. He could only hold back the laugh for a heartbeat, and then they both chuckled together. Wheeler felt the normalcy of civilian life returning after its long hiatus and it felt good. He could become normal again.

Peg interrupted his musing "I don't see any post it notes on you so some of us must get back to work." She smiled pleasantly while dealing with the check.

Wheeler's alarm bells went off when Peg got up to leave. He had to get up too, something was terribly wrong, and he could tell it was her vehicle. He covered his spinning emotions and said "Yea, me too. I can't keep up with the big boys in my clunker van" he waved at his VW, "so I have to put in more time to get anywhere." He had to get her over to the VW, he just knew it. He dropped his money on the counter, grabbed his coffee and got up to leave with her.

They walked out of the diner together and she eyed his VW dubiously, but she was interested. "I've been thinking about getting something enclosed. Could I look inside?" Great waves of relief washed over him. She did it but he had to hurry her over to the VW to delay her moving on.

"Sure, come on over here and I'll show you" he said enthusiastically as he hurried her to the van. He was fiddling nervously with the keys to the side doors when a big rig truck whisked through the parking lot barely missing the rear of the VW and smashed into a Japanese pickup truck, pushing it out into the street and firmly squashing it into a power pole on the far side of the street.

They were stunned into immobility for a few fast heartbeats, processing the scenario that had just unfolded and trying to make sense out of it. Wheeler shook himself out of it first and ran over to the cab of the now steaming truck, jerking the driver's door open in one smooth movement.

The driver was slumped over the steering wheel and hanging by the seat belts but he was moving and mumbling incoherently. Wheeler gently propped him back upright and asked "Are you okay buddy? Anything broken?" The driver blinked himself back into the present moment as he pushed on the steering wheel to hold himself up.

"I think I'm okay" he said weakly. "Help me out of here." Wheeler released the seat belt latch and helped him over to the curb as Peg joined them away from the hissing, smoking truck.

"Are you okay" Peg asked him, and then turned to Wheeler "Is he okay? What happened?"

"I'm just banged up a bit" the driver said. "It was the darnedest thing, both the over and under brakes went away. I was coasting on the off ramp and then just, well, nothing. I pulled on the engine brake, but the truck only slowed. I guess I panicked." He held his head in his shaking hands.

Peg looked over to her smashed truck in front of the big rig and sighed. "I guess it's time for that van now" she said.

Wheeler stood beside her speechless, staring at the smashed truck as the reality of what just happened hit him. He had just gone into zombie mode using all of his senses automatically and the result had been to save somebody, not hurt them. All of those years honing his skills for a military purpose were not wasted. He did have a future that was not isolation and withdrawal but contribution to a society that would benefit. His mind was spinning off wild directions that were optimistic and not foreboding.

He had a flash of his life being that of a police dog, trained to apprehend criminals with force and inflict vicious harm if necessary. Now it was time for him to go home to the family, play Frisbee with the kids and pull skateboards. It was time to walk with the grandparents and sniff to make friends. He laughed out loud at his new life.

"What?" Peg said sharply. "Are you laughing at my truck? It was a good one, I beat it up some, but we were friends."

"Sorry, it was something else" he said, hiding the truth from her. The police and paramedics had arrived with sirens blaring by then and Wheeler led Peg back to the parking lot of the diner. They stood for a moment in silence, wondering at the possibilities but coming up empty. "Can I take you somewhere?" Wheeler finally asked.

"No thanks. I have to get my stuff out of the truck after they pry it out of the mess. I'll just call my daughter later."

"I'll just be going then" Wheeler said lightly and started to walk away.

Peg grabbed him into a hug and pulled him close, looked him straight in the eye and said seriously "I know what you did back there. I don't know how you did it but you saved my life." She stared into his eyes waiting for a response that he couldn't get out. She continued, not really expecting one and said "Thank you," kissing him on the cheek and redoubling her hug energy.

She released him and with a cheeky grin added "If you come back through town, look me up, I'm the only pottery chick in town."

"I'll see you later" was all the breathless Wheeler could get out as he watched her head back to the trucks, swaying her hips provocatively. Hmm, Wheeler thought. Maybe.

~~***~~

He drove north to Emil's repair shop a new man. Just hours before he was leaving a dark past still in the darkness and now he was out of it, heading into the sun. Peg had given him a new life that had possibilities she could not know. Heck, Wheeler couldn't imagine what those might be, but the fact there were now possibilities had him giddy. If his radio worked he would have turned it up and sung along.

He pulled into Emil's parking lot just before quitting time and he found Emil inside poking a lawnmower engine with a screwdriver.

"Wheeler!' he noticed as soon as Wheeler cleared the entrance. "You come to stay more than weekend?" He pulled Wheeler into a bear hug like he was family, which was almost true. Wheeler had spent many a weekend in Emil's loft, accepting his hospitality.

"A place to stay and free beer? Why would I leave?" Wheeler said and they both laughed.

"Not free, I work you hard, get my money that way" he smiled broadly. "Come, sit, I get beer." He wiped his hands with a shop rag and grabbed two bottles out of the fridge.

"So, tell Emil everything, it been two months" Emil demanded. His English wasn't any better but his enthusiasm had not diminished a bit.

They sipped a bit and Wheeler mostly skipped over the retirement plans Emil knew all about, so there was not much there to tell. He did replay the story of Peg's truck and surprisingly, Emil beamed.

"What's that all about?" Wheeler asked.

"I know you find flower in cow pie. It there all along" laughed Emil, ever the cheerleader. Wheeler should not have looked confused but he did, so Emil continued "Wheeler," he said more seriously, "you have ability to know things before they happen. It save you in Middle East, it save somebody else now. What is big deal?"

Wheeler should have not been surprised, Emil evidently knew him better than he knew himself. "You have known that for a long time, haven't you?" Wheeler accused.

"Of course, I not just fix broken lawnmowers" he thumbed his nose at Wheeler with a smirk.

"Of course" Wheeler feigned exasperation at his friend and they drank into the night enjoying each others company.

After nearly a month of tuning lawnmowers and fixing leaf blowers together, Emil finally initiated the first serious talk about Wheeler's future.

"So Wheeler, you going to fix this junk with me forever?" his words were pointed but his tone was soft.

Wheeler stopped moving his tools but did not look up. He had been slowly turning into a civilian working with Emil, letting his buzz cut turn to long fuzz and getting used to jeans.

"I'm not sure I'm ready" he answered, unsure of himself.

"What you mean 'ready'? You wait for post card?" Wheeler laughed, he couldn't help it. Emil was a subtle as a brick. He continued "Get coffee, sit at table, we talk."

Emil finished bolting on an air cleaner and joined Wheeler at the table, taking the cup he poured for him. "Look, Wheeler" he began seriously, "you good mechanic, you fix more than you break. You could stay and be partner, maybe open shop and compete with me." Emil couldn't stay completely serious. "But your talent be wasted on machines, you need to help people or you not be happy." Emil sipped, waiting for Wheeler to get it.

"That's just the thing, Emil, I know that too, but I don't know exactly how to start" Wheeler said, retreating into himself a bit.

"You know just before moment of danger, to do something or go somewhere, right?" Emil said to his friend.

"Of course, I've been able to do that since I was a kid" he replied.

"And you have learned to trust this knowing when you get it, true?"

"Sure" Wheeler said, not certain what Emil was leading up to yet.

"Just use that trust to lead you to where you need to go, where you need to be. Is it not the same thing?" Emil explained.

"Emil! That's it!" Wheeler blurted out. "I don't have to know. I've been wrestling with figuring out where to go and how to start. I don't need to know now, I need to know later, when the time is right." Wheeler felt the last predictable, orderly strings of his old life just get cut. The order and rigor of the military no longer held him, the structure of it all was no longer necessary.

He was no longer Wheeler, Jules (none), he was just Wheeler, civilian, free man.

### CHAPTER 2

NEW LIFE

The old VW bus was laboring up the last rise on the highway before a town called Eaton. It labored up and down most any highway because its engine was sized more for a clown car than a real size vehicle. The rain had mostly stopped and the hard rubber wipers were just able to smear the drips off the windshield as the town came in to view. Wheeler felt an acute anticipation when arriving at a new place, knowing it might be the destination and not knowing if he is being drawn to it. It may be a rescue, it may be a helping hand, it might just be a gas stop.

He still wore the short cropped hair he'd grown to like from his Navy days, now two lifetimes past and he had mostly kept the muscle tone of his youth. He was still a big guy at six feet two and kept in shape by the odd jobs he found that were usually manual labor of some sort. The back-breaking, dangerous opportunities he vigorously avoided but the casual quick jobs he looked for required that he be physically fit, which he was. Working mostly out of doors gave him a nice tan and would have lightened his hair if it wasn't so short.

~~***~~

Eaton California was Smalltown, USA with its main drag, a few stoplights blinking red after 9:00pm and a late night diner still open. Wheeler pulled the VW into the parking lot next to a well used pickup and a shiny, old Chevelle. He liked old Chevys. They had a charm and character that reflected the owner like no late model Honda ever could. He sat at the end of the counter, down a few seats from the truck guy and the three young fellows from the Chevelle were talking girls and cars over cheeseburgers in a booth. It was after 10:00pm but he ordered a cheeseburger, fries and coffee anyway. Coffee never kept him awake and it was warm on the chilly night. The heater in the bus could not keep up with the air leaks and the cavernous interior.

"I haven't seen you around here before" the fellow at the counter said, leaning over toward Wheeler, "you just passing through?"

"I'm looking to pick up some odd jobs here, replenish my supplies a bit." Wheeler was not used to giving out too much information but he did want to know about the town. "Do you know where I might start?"

"I don't know what kind a work you're looking for but you might be able to help me out a bit. My sister owns the antique place across the street there." He pointed out the window of the diner to a dim sign across the street on a building that said 'Old Glorys'. Wheeler followed his pointed finger and saw the two front windows with furniture displays and old lamps lit up on each side of the door.

"She has been getting me to help her move displays around inside and do some deliveries with my truck. I don't have time for her because I have my own welding shop to run. I have to make a living too." He seemed to get more at ease as he spoke and Wheeler felt like they were fast friends. He liked small towns.

"My name's Bob Keefer, I run Keefer Fab down the way" Bob said as he waved vaguely down the street. He held out his hand half lifting himself off the stool.

Wheeler did likewise and said "Just call me Wheeler." Bob reached back to his coffee pulling it over next to Wheeler to seat himself more sociably noticing that Wheeler was only half way through the burger. At that moment, Wheeler got one of his incoming messages that were like thoughts remembered that had no previous record. He sometimes compared them to a psychic e-mail, one moment a clear mind and attention to the present, the next moment an urge to move someplace specific and be alert.

Bob was settling on the stool and Wheeler said "I have to go out to my bus for a second, I'll be right back".

He deliberately rose to allow his senses to take over and concentrated on appearing casual while he released his mind to become a clear channel to the next input. He overheard the boys in an animated conversation about carburetors as he walked past the booth to the door. He leveled his breathing and braced himself for the unknown as he opened the door and walked out to the VW. It was parked nose-in about ten feet to the left and Bob's truck was just past it parked the same way. Wheeler walked to the front of the bus tuning his hearing up to its highest sensitivity. The feeling he had was that 'it's right here'. He walked lightly between the bus and the truck and stopped just at the back of the bus and leaned against the side putting equal weight on both feet.

'Now is the time' the new memory in his head assured him. Just then, a young man appeared sneaking around the bus from the back and his unfortunate furtive head turning directed his attention to the street, not to Wheeler standing in the shadow. He bumped firmly into Wheeler and yelped, instinctively trying to take a step forward. Wheeler was not surprised and had the presence of mind to grab his shirt at both sleeves right in the middle of the upper forearms. Wheeler pulled both of young man's arms together behind his back and lifted him slightly off his feet, rendering him immobile and his arms useless. It was just the right move because the young fellow had small size pry bar in one hand and a slide hammer in the other, either one of which could be used as a weapon.

"Well, what do we have here?" Wheeler said in a tone befitting his true red-handed, obvious catch. The slide hammer the fellow carried is a tool with a strong screw at one end and a movable heavy weight that slides on a shaft along its length. It is screwed into a lock and the sliding weight pulls the tumbler out, rendering an ignition switch or door lock on a car a keyless mechanism. Wheeler had just interrupted a break-and-enter or possibly a car theft. Wheeler's six feet, two inch height didn't exactly tower over the young man but it was enough to look down and intimidate him in the shadows of the parking lot.

The young man was still in shock as Wheeler leaned down to speak with him quietly into his ear get his attention. He was in his late teens and his chest heaved with heavy breathing coupled with eyes very wide showing fear on the edge of panic.

"Here's how this is going to play out" Wheeler said "you are going to drop both of the tools right now." Wheeler paused to let him do it. The boy squirmed a bit testing Wheeler's grip, weighing his chances.

Wheeler said "Right now" again, this time a bit more intense and tightened the shirt clamp pulling the boy's arms and shoulders a bit closer together. The tools hit the ground.

"Very smart. Now we are going out to the street, I am going to let you go, and you are going to find another way to occupy your time." Wheeler did not raise his voice but used his eyes affirm the seriousness of their one sided conversation. "Go to school, get a job or head off to the big city, I don't care. The inside of my bus could be the last thing you see if you ever get in it, understand?" The boy nodded a bit too vigorously and Wheeler let him go. He took off into the dim lit street and was gone. Wheeler picked up the tools, put them in the side door of the bus and walked back into the diner.

Bob was comfortably seated on the stool next to his own half eaten burger by the time Wheeler walked back inside. Wheeler had only been outside about a minute and Bob seemed only interested in finishing the last of the meal.

"Is everything okay?" Bob inquired. It was a tone of just passing the time, not very interested.

"Oh sure, no problem, I just wanted to check something" Wheeler said. Incomplete information was better than making up a story, there is never a point to building complication. "So tell me Bob, what keeps you busy down at Keefer Fab?"

Bob finished a sip of his coffee and said to Wheeler "It's mostly a repair shop. I fix worn out trailers, farm equipment. Just welding and metal fabrication."

"This seems like the right part of the world to run that kind of shop" Wheeler replied. "You probably do have a steady stream of jobs." Wheeler sipped his coffee, prodding for more information.

"Yeah, pretty much. It's feast or famine and right now I'm feasting. Lee Gregor, he's a contractor in town, dropped off a generator last week and I've not been able to get to it. He needs to frame a new house out on highway 53 and there's no electrical out there yet, and he broke the cross member on his generator. I have to lift the old Chrysler Hemi out that weighs a ton, get access to the frame and weld up the cracked frame so the monster doesn't fall out.. I have a crane but it all has to be disconnected first, and then lifted out of the way so I can weld a new support under it."

He got a serious look on his face and eyed Wheeler for a long moment before speaking again "Say, you wouldn't be handy with tools and know anything about this stuff would you? I have a kid that works part time, as much as I can stand to have him there, but he is just not sure which end of the hammer to grab."

Wheeler was finishing up the last of the French fries and thought 'this is a good way to stay in town for a while; maybe the reason to be here is Bob'.

"I rebuilt the engine and transmission in my VW out there so getting a Hemi out of a frame sounds easy. I can start tomorrow if you like? If I can't do it you won't have to pay me".

"Fair enough, we have a deal" Bob said as he stuck his hand out for Wheeler to shake, and a slim foothold was established in Eaton.

"Is there a YMCA in town here?" Wheeler said obtusely managing Bob's attention away from any more details. It was time to go.

Bob Keefer turned to Wheeler with a blank expression missing a half step of the conversation but picked up in just a moment "Yeah, it's a few blocks down the street, left at the last stoplight". He said it slowly and developed an inquiring expression.

Wheeler left money on the counter with a generous tip and got up saying "Great, I'll see you in the morning then". With Bob Keefer gaping, speechless, Wheeler headed back to the VW. He drove down the street to find the parking lot behind the YMCA, they usually are not particular who parks overnight in their lot.

He found it with no trouble and pulled into the lot, away from the building and shut off the VW. He folded the frame down along the inside of the bus, rolled out the foam sleeping pad and bedroll and was asleep in minutes.

### CHAPTER 3

THE NEW TOWN

Wheeler awoke with the dawn just barely showing through the bland striped curtains in the bus. He put them up when he first started his traveling so he could convert the old bus into a sleeper car and have at least a bit of privacy. It was not his modesty so much as it was the need to make the old VW look like it was just a parked vehicle. He was pleased with the old bus as he lay on the wood flat, comfortable on the foam and crowded by his array of blankets and comforter. He mused over some of his colder encampments spent most comfortably until he realized it was time to get up now, to do the needful. A quick roll, stuff and lift and he was back at the diner, relieved and sipping his morning coffee.

It was near dawn when he finished his crisp bacon and loose eggs, and headed back over to the Y to join the early morning exercise crowd. His visit was not for the rowing machine or treadmill today, it was just for the shower and fresh change of clothes before heading over to Keefer Fab to his new career as a, what, helper? Assistant Fabricator? He was there to do what was usually a re-balancing of someone's life or shrinking a bigger-than-life problem to a manageable size, and then move on. He liked moving on. He liked fixing things, like a mechanic.

Wheeler found Keefer Fabrication proudly lettered, fading noticeably, on the front of a chipped brick storefront that shared a wall with an electrical supply outlet long since closed. They were past the good part of the main street, surprisingly named Main Street, several blocks beyond the 'good' stores that had updated facades and new display windows with goods inside that people actually purchased. The front door on Keefer Fabrication looked like it was installed in the 1950's, painted several times and rarely used. Wheeler drove around the back, along a short alley and turned in toward an oversize rollup door that was open with noises coming out already. Bob was in. He parked off to the side and walked up to the door and waited just inside, until the noise stopped. Wheeler didn't know if Bob was jumpy and did not want him to run wild with a power tool.

The wait was only a moment and Wheeler said "Good morning Bob" and entered the shop noticing the clock on the front wall. It was just 7:30 and Bob appeared to have been there a while.

"Good morning Wheeler, I wasn't sure you'd show up." The words were abrupt but the appreciative look on Bob's face betrayed his pleasure, or maybe relief. The shop was 20' wide and 40' deep with steel topped work benches up against the walls and a larger square table toward the front in the center of the room. Bob had something clamped to the larger table that he seemed to be grinding. The generator was centered just inside the back rollup door and looked like it had been backed in and disconnected. The generator was a small size trailer with a sheet metal enclosure five feet tall three feet wide and eight feet long, battered with years of service that faded the paint and dented the sides.

Bob joined Wheeler at the generator, unlatching one of the side doors and pointed inside. He didn't waste a heartbeat before showing Wheeler the repair routine. "Look here, the cross bar under the Hemi is cracked and the engine is angled down pulling on the drive shaft to the generator. It's right on top of the axle so I can't get to it with the welder without setting the whole thing on fire. All you have to do" Bob said with a chuckle "is lift the Hemi out so I can get in there."

"It's just a bunch of bolts; do you have tools I can use?" Wheeler said with all the animation of saying 'pass the salt.' Bob pointed over to one of the side benches with a tool box next to it and the two of them pushed the generator close to it. Bob left him to the task and went back to grinding.

Wheeler opened all the access doors to let some light in and get a better look. What he saw were hoses, wires, brackets and all the necessities required to convert a car engine to the mundane labors of turning a generator, an unglamorous job compared to powering Dodge Chargers and Plymouth Road Runners from the 1960's. He was just barely a toddler then but read about the glory days when he was older, dreaming of what it must have been like back then. As he was daydreaming, he was gathering the soul impressions of the machinery before him, tuning into its mechanical consciousness for lack of a better description. He didn't have a real description of what he did, but he had a distinct feel and a 'mode' of listening that was like asking the mind to remember something that was in someone else's distant memory.

He was moved to lie down on his back and pull himself under it to get a look and was drawn to a point where the heavy metal formed an intersection. A trail to follow was forming in his mind and he went back up to the top to continue peering into the mystery of the 50 year old machine to see where the trail led. Wheeler deliberately looked here and there and it all came together. He started removing the back cover, the top cover, the rear doors and the driveshaft, ending up with two innocuous looking bolts holding the frame together. It took him under an hour.

He walked over to the big table opposite to where Bob was finishing up his grinding and asked "How would you like to show me how your crane works, Bob?"

"What? You're done?" Bob exclaimed as he put down his face shield and gloves and walked over to the generator. "Is it disconnected already? I can't believe it!"

"I think so" Wheeler replied. "Go drop the hook right here and I will attach it."

Bob grabbed the controls, lowering the hook and chain. Wheeler met the hook, guiding it into newly exposed lift hole right above the Hemi.

"Okay, that's good. Now lift a little." The weight came off the frame but the Hemi didn't release. "Stop there. Now come around here and help me" Wheeler said.

Bob joined Wheeler and they pushed and wiggled together, coaxing the big Hemi out of the frame on its own frame! "Lift it a bit more with the crane, Bob."

It slid right out the back with its radiator, starter and mechanical paraphernalia intact, swinging in mid-air, three feet above the trailer frame on the lift hook.

"Well I'll be damned" said the astonished Bob. "I was sure you would be wrenching that old thing for two or three days to get it out and then three or four days more to get it back together. Now look right there" he pointed at the front mount "the broken crossbar is right there. I can fix it with the Hemi hanging on the crane and we can just slide it back in. We'll be done today."

Bob ducked down to get a better look. "Won't old Lee Gregor be pleased? I won't have to give him a repair bill for a week's work and he can get to the house framing right away." Bob positively beamed. Wheeler was pleased as well but the mornings' effort was not what called him to Eaton, there was more out there somewhere.

It was before 10:00am and Wheeler was getting the pulling sensation that was gently telling him he needed to be somewhere else, close but not here.

"Is your sister at the store this early?" Wheeler inquired casually, "I could go see about her moving while you are welding up the generator." His tone was easy and pleasant as he was trying to manage Bob without him realizing. It was certainly possible the reason to be in Eaton had nothing to do with Bob or his sister, so Wheeler was only providing an opening to see if it was to be filled here this way.

"She is sure to be in, you go on over and I'll call her to let her know I sent you."

Bob went to the front of the shop and Wheeler headed out the back to the bus. Old Glorys was across the street from the diner so in minutes he had arrived and was walking across the sidewalk, turning the new door handle that was antiqued to look old on a similar new, sturdy door made in the style of some bygone era.

Wheeler entered the store and was surrounded by antique furniture of every description: dining table sets, hutches, desks, rockers, lamps and bedposts all posed with the odd vase or doily artfully placed to suggest a proper setting. There was a queer smell that struck him as the door moved the air at the front of the shop, rather like a combination of dead cat, fermented grass and lemon. It was not overwhelming but it was plain to Wheeler. He wondered if it was just a byproduct of musty and ripe quilts that have been around longer than him.

"You must be Wheeler, Bob just called." Wheeler turned toward the sound of the voice and located a head peeking out over a rather tall dresser at the back of the store. It was a pretty head with its green eyes peeking out under medium brown bangs that showed a hint of red. The head walked out from behind the dresser and a petite body joined the head presenting a lovely young woman about 30 years old in a peasant blouse, slim jeans and tennis shoes. It was a working shopkeeper look. Bob was the older bother the same age as Wheeler so she was the baby sister. No wonder Bob still looked after her.

"Wheeler it is" he said she clasped his hand in a firm and respectful shake. Not too much up and down, that was a good sign. Up and down movement belied something phony.

"My name is Alice, Alice Keefer. Bob said you would be willing to help me out a bit here" she said sweeping an open palm across the expanse of the store.

"Sure, I'm doing the same for Bob, looking to replenish my supplies while I'm here and keep me going for a while." Wheeler had followed the sweep of her hand surveying the showroom and noticed it was not all that crowded. The pieces were placed such that the displays of furniture looked like little islands throughout the space.

"Why don't you come to the back and I'll get us some coffee, do you like coffee, I could make tea if that's better for you, just sit at the table here, what would you like?" Alice was a nervous whirlwind that took his breath away. He could see how she stayed so slim.

"Coffee would be fine, just black please." The antique smell from the front of the shop was now in competition with the smell of the coffee at the back. Alice put down two mugs that were thankfully normal size, not the dainty antique ones that look cute but only hold one gulp. Wheeler's 6'2" frame had rather large hands attached that could completely wrap around one of those cups.

Alice sat down with more calm than the ramble would suggest. Wheeler wasn't sure if it was new person nervousness, normal bird-like personality or if he caused the flutter himself. He laughed to himself; there is a part of all guys that think they can flutter a woman's heart just by saying 'hi'. Get over yourself, he chastised himself and put that thought out to pasture.

"I have a pair of end tables that I promised to deliver to Mrs. Morton just out of town. She is a widower living off the insurance and buys a piece from me now then. Usually she will collect the stuff when she's here, but last trip she would barely enter the store. She just pointed across the floor to the two pieces, asked me to deliver them and she would pay me then, and nearly ran back to her car. That was last Friday and they won't fit in my Honda. I really should get a truck." Her delivery was a slower rapid fire staccato than with the coffee, but there was something nagging at the back of Wheeler's mind about it, the memory bank thing. While she was speaking, her eyes kept darting toward the front like she was expecting a delivery and Wheeler realized it was the first hint of his purpose for being there.

"I have an old VW bus the stuff might fit in. We could measure when we're finished here" Wheeler said, encouraging them to get into action. She didn't need any encouragement; she was up like a shot headed over to the dresser he first saw her behind and she disappeared. Wheeler left half his coffee and followed her over to two matching tables that had two foot square tops and were only a bit taller.

"These will fit in the bus I'm sure, shall I bring it around back?"

"Are you parked right in front? These will go through easily, that's how I brought them in." The rapid fire delivery was back.

"All right then, I'll just grab one and put it out in the bus. Be back for the other one in a flash." He lifted it easily and noticed the musty, meaty smell strengthen as he approached the front door. It was more than the smell of old comforters and antiques that put his internal sensors on alert that made him think there was something lurking at the front of the store.

Wheeler did not let himself be open to stray energies or communications. He directed his openings and usually allowed only relevant inputs, discovering long ago he could pick up on other people's ramblings and didn't like it. He called in head static.

He put the small table down to prop the door open and wondered about the smell. Was it really a smell or something else? He opened himself a bit and the smell became a host of emotions: dread, anger, fear, worry and more all jumbled into a messy blob. It was not a smell. He pushed the door with his foot and carefully maneuvered the table out without bumping the door or the jamb. Just across the threshold the blob disappeared, it stayed inside the store: curious. Alice brought the other table out right behind Wheeler and the loading only took a moment. Alice locked the door and they were off.

### CHAPTER 4

SHOP DELIVERY

Wheeler pulled away from the curb in front of the shop very gently. His VW did everything gently due to the lack of power and low gears. It sounded rather sewing machine-like as he headed down Main Street with the furniture comfortably stowed in the back.

"So tell me, Wheeler, how is it you are in town here looking for work? Hard to imagine anybody would want to move here" Alice said in a friendly, pleasant tone. The nervous rapid-fire speech had been replaced with a calm, friendly tone a bit lower in pitch. Sitting next to Wheeler in the bus she was not the same woman as the one in the store. Wheeler had just been whiplashed.

"Some time ago I left the Navy with no real world skills. I was part of a combat unit that I left to find out what the real world was like. I needed both time and distance, so I just hit the road and kept going." He made no mention of the other Alice that had apparently been left in the store. "How did you end up in the antique business? Pardon my observation, but you don't seem matronly enough to go in for old furniture and curios."

"You're right, antiques are not really my style, but I worked the store with my mother since I was 10 years old. I learned the ins and outs but did finally get off to college to learn something else, Art History. When I came back mom was not able to run the store by herself so I stayed on for 'just a while'." She said the 'just a while' like she was using the finger quotes in the air but didn't do it. "It wasn't long before she passed away and I became a shopkeeper." Alice was becoming a pleasant companion and some wheels in the back of Wheeler's mind were quietly spinning away putting pieces together, to inform him when something lined up.

"I'm sorry about your mother" Wheeler didn't say more to allow her to work through the hurt and just continue at her own pace. She continued after a moment.

"Oh it's all right. She had Bob and me when she was older, so her passing was not unexpected, it was time for her. Our father passed away some time ago and mom missed him. Now I am the proprietor of Eaton's only antique emporium." She seemed stable now, not overly emotional and level headed; Wheeler liked her.

"Wow, look at you; young, attractive, the owner of one of Eaton's premiere businesses, you must have all the men in town after you." He did notice a bit of a blush as he spoke.

"I did until a month ago. I had one of those 'young men' of which you speak." There was the air quote thing again. She was cute. "He wanted me to be the barefoot and pregnant wife and sell Old Glorys to finance a new truck or boat or something. Pea-brain, I call him that now, he thinks we're living in the backwoods still marrying cousins." Wheeler couldn't hold back and laughed out loud. My gosh, she had some spunk.

Alice continued "Now he can't get it through his undeveloped brain that I've had enough of him and he better leave me alone." She looked over at Wheeler sizing him up. With him around maybe pea-brain will think there's something going on and leave me alone, she thought. She could do worse but kept the musing to herself.

"Just out of town, take the right and the billboard, I'll show you" she said, trying to get the conversation away from her drama that deflated her every time she thought about it.

Wheeler slowed the bus to make the turn and headed up the slight incline at a mature speed. "The house is right up there" she pointed. "Just pull in the drive at the front."

He pulled up with the rear doors of the bus facing the porch as smartly dressed woman opened the door. She had professionally done hair with a bit too much red Wheeler thought, matching slacks and jacket, and what looked like a silk blouse.

When she saw Alice get out of the VW, she exclaimed "Alice, how wonderful of you to bring the tables, I'm so looking forward to the new look to my sitting room." She and Alice embraced almost like mother-daughter and walked over to the VW.

"Evelyn, this is my friend Wheeler" Alice said. "Wheeler, this is Evelyn."

"Pleased to meet you, Ma'am" Wheeler opened side doors to the VW so they could get a look inside.

"Oh they will be just lovely, bring them this way." Evelyn was outgoing and friendly, nothing like the timid, reluctant woman Alice described that had picked out the tables at the store. This was getting interesting, Wheeler thought, was Eaton a town of Jekyll and Hides? Probably not, Bob was an even sort of guy after all.

It was not hard to tell Evelyn Morton lived alone. Alice and Wheeler were nearly forced into coffee and a nice chat around the kitchen table, the two women catching up on gossip and events that gives character to small town life. Wheeler was half paying attention, interjecting 'Of course' and 'Thank you' when necessary. His other attention was sensing a normalcy about the whole experience. There was nothing unusual or curious about the visit, just the companionable chit chat of two women that knew each other pretty well.

It was mid-day when they drove back into town and Alice said "Let's stop by Bob's and see if he's ready for lunch." Wheeler drove around the back of the shop to see a shower of sparks shooting ten feet across the shop. Bob saw them drive up, took off his face shield and waved. Wheeler walked by the hanging Hemi and noticed the front cross member was missing from the support frame and the bar on Bob's bench looked like it would fit the space.

"Are you ready for a break or did you have lunch yet?" Alice said with a warm familiarity.

"Ahh, you're just in time. I'm just ready to weld so this is good time to stop" Bob said as he put his face shield and gloves down. "I'll just wash up. You go on ahead and I'll meet you at the diner so you don't need to bring me back here."

They all had the pot roast special and Wheeler thought it was one of the better examples from his travels. Bob said he would be done with the welding by 3 o'clock and Wheeler planned to be back then. When Wheeler and Alice got to her shop, the phone was ringing and Alice made the dash to the back.

"Old Glorys" she said, with bit of the outside calm voice. She listened for a moment.

"I told you not to call me anymore." She was speeding her cadence as the pitch in her voice rose.

"I don't care, don't call, don't come here and DO NOT BOTHER ME!" She used more speed, higher pitch and more volume. There was a pause with what Wheeler assumed to be Pea-Brain speaking.

"Don't you dare! I have a helper today I don't have time for you, not today, not ever! Leave me alone!!" She slammed the phone down without waiting for a response, her voice and the receiver echoing in the otherwise quiet store. She stood motionless for several moments staring down past the phone to nothing beyond the floor. Wheeler was looking intently at a vase on one of the tables doing a good impression of an appraiser, all the while not having any idea what he was looking at.

After she was mostly composed, she said "That went well." She tried to seem normal but her expression was near panic.

"Is there anything I can do?" Wheeler asked in a kind voice.

"No, no, he was just making idle threats that won't come to anything. It's just hot air blowing out of his deflating manhood."

Wheeler let it pass and tried to get them back to a more normal reality. "Well boss, what's on the schedule for my next two hours?"

Alice returned to her fidgety, bird-like flitting, looking here and there across the store, stopping her gaze on one piece, then the next, and then another back to the first. As she was deciding Wheeler noticed the personality change at the same time noticing the odd smell from the morning. He refused to notice the contents, he knew it was there and didn't want to give purchase to the chaos of it. To know a thing is to be able to manage it and it was now evident to him this 'smell' was having its way with Alice and maybe more. She apparently, did not know she had changed persona.

"I would like to do a bit of arranging to see if we can spice up this old stuff." She started to wander about the front of the store as Wheeler noticed a rather elaborate coat rack. It was a sturdy thing with a four inch post rising up out of four highly decorated feet supporting the curved wooden scrolls at the top and it must have weighed a hundred pounds. As he approached, the smell intensified and he felt a sense of nausea creeping up on him. He stopped to readjust his senses with his perceptions to make sure he did not fall into some kind of spell like Alice had. There was something there that was more than a mere coat rack, it was inhabited.

"Help me move this dining set away from the front window" Alice asked. "I want to make a cozy living room grouping that might be more inviting." Wheeler did not go any closer to the coat rack but he did realize how it would serve the greater good. He carefully backed away keeping an eye on it like it might jump out and grab him.

"Sure, it might look like new inventory to people driving by" he said, walking to meet her at the dining set. The wheels in the back of his mind were turning as he lifted the chairs away and the two of them moved the table. They made an attractive setting of wing-back chairs, a small coffee table and two end tables next to each chair. She looked about for the right lamps as Wheeler kept an eye on the coat rack. He had a plan for it now.

"Get this other lamp and let's try two of them" she said, lifting one lamp and nodding to another. He placed his lamp where he thought it should be and Alice said "Oh no, no, no. Put it there behind the chair so you can read or knit. The light must come from behind, not in front. Here, let me do that." She said it in her rapid-fire staccato that reminded Wheeler of the urgency of dealing with the coat rack. She stood back to get a different vantage point on the window display.

"That looks inviting, don't you think?" she said like she was short of breath. Wheeler looked intently at the new parlor display like he was a world renowned art critic, slowly changing his view angle, leaning down, murmuring a random 'Humm' then a 'Huh'. Alice looked a bit concerned.

"What do you see? Is something wrong with it?" He paced for another long moment before responding, he wanted to get the full effect.

"You know" he drew out the words agitating Alice just that bit more. "If we moved something out to the sidewalk, we could make this really look three dimensional, like the display was inside and outside of the store." He appeared intent on the display but he was peeking at her out of the corner of his eye. Alice was now flitting between the parlor group inside, the sidewalk right outside the window and back again. She heard the words but didn't understand.

"What do you mean?" she said with a puzzled look on her face.

"Let's just try something, open the door for me would you?" Wheeler said as he headed back into the store to get the coat rack. He had to close himself off completely for what he had to do next, there could be no opening in him for intruders. In the few moments it took him to get to the back of the shop, he became an automaton with no feelings, no senses and almost no consciousness. He lifted the huge coat rack in a bear hug, carefully navigated it to the front door and lugged it out on the sidewalk, telling himself it's just wood over and over like a mantra. He gently put it down just even with the right edge of the large window on the right side of the door, just a few feet away from the building. The parlor setting could be seen through the window on the right, so the coat rack looked like it was in a phantom hallway. Wheeler and Alice stepped off the curb to look.

"I think I see what you're trying to do" Alice said with her delivery slowing down just slightly.

"Oh, that's just perfect, it's exactly what I wanted" Wheeler said trying to sound convincing and effusive but not quite gay. The damn thing had to be outside and he wanted Alice to go along with it. "We'll just leave it out for the day and bring it back in overnight, of course." He was doing his best to propose an easy decision for her. "Do you have a 'For Sale' sign we could hang on it?"

Alice was warming to the idea of the outside display and distractedly said "Sure, I've got a big cardboard one in the back." Her cadence had slowed a bit more as she processed both thoughts vying for her attention. Wheeler was hopeful it was more than distraction slowing her down.

"Excellent, may I go get it, you could have a customer any second" Wheeler said heading back into the store. Excellent, he thought, cardboard would be perfect. He found the sign leaning against the back wall and made short work of attaching it to the coat rack. Just in time too, the wait would be short.

"Let's take a break" Alice said. "I have soda and water in the fridge and I could make more coffee if you'd like." Her fidgety, nervous head bob and clipped speech was nearly gone as they walked to the back of the shop. Her gait was leisurely and Wheeler noticed a gentle sway to her hips as they got to the work table she used as office. He hadn't noticed her slink before, probably because it wasn't there. He was, after all, as susceptible to feminine charms as any man.

"I'll have water please" he said. She joined him at the table with two bottles that they each opened and sipped for a quiet moment, looking toward the front of the shop at their new window display. Through the window Wheeler saw a black, dingy pickup truck blur past from their right and squeal the tires right in front of the shop. He could just see the rear quarter of the truck as it almost stopped. Then he heard breaking glass and the roar of big V8 through a bad muffler as the front of the shop burst into flames.

### CHAPTER 5

FIREWORKS

"Call the fire department or 911 or whatever you have here" Wheeler said as he bolted up from the table. Alice was staring motionless in disbelief. "Alice!...Alice!" He was yelling now. "Get to the phone!"

As he was prodding her into action he saw the fire extinguisher hanging by the back door. Just as she was reaching to the phone, he grabbed the fire extinguisher and ran to the front like a gazelle, hopping from side to side dodging furniture. He stopped at the door to take a good look. The flames were concentrated to his left in front of their newly decorated window and the coat rack was fully engulfed in a roaring inferno. The door in front of him was separated from the heat of it. He tapped the door and knob testing for heat, relieved that it was barely warm. He threw the door open in a rush and made a dash for the street. He turned back to face the building to see the odd flame wick up the side of the building, the bricks between the door and the window were starting to discolor from the smoke but the door itself too far away to sustain damage.

Excellent, Wheeler thought, as he pulled the pin of the small fire extinguisher and took aim. He loosed the white spray on the door and adjacent bricks. He got a faint whiff of gasoline and, with a covert sigh of relief, stopped shooting the fire retardant and bent over the bottle, feigning trouble with the mechanism. He knew the fire will only burn the gasoline fumes and the heavy plate glass and bricks would only be scorched, the fire wouldn't really damage them. He wanted to give the coat rack as much time to burn as he could to make sure it got thoroughly ruined.

People were starting to come out of the other storefronts along the street so Wheeler made a show of satisfaction, pretending to 'fix' the fire extinguisher. He aimed at the building first, making short work of the dwindling flames on the brick. He applied extra powder to the smoke on the building to waste as much of the retardant as he could while appearing to the onlookers to be doing a thorough job of putting out the building fire. He could no longer avoid the burning coat rack and turned the nozzle to its blaze that was happily consuming the thing. The nozzle sputtered and went silent. Aw shucks, he was out of retardant. He almost laughed out loud before remembering the dozens of eyes watching him. Outwardly he showed remorse and disappointment, hiding his glee well.

The wisps of smoke coming off the bricks did little to cover the sparse soot marks smudged against what was mostly dull red brick. There was broken glass on the sidewalk that made Wheeler examine the plate glass window very carefully top to bottom, side to side. It was fine too. Curious thing, that glass, he thought as he looked careful at the pieces scattered on the side walk. The larger pieces were curved like corners of a bottle, then he realized 'a Molotov cocktail!' right here in Eaton!

His ears heard the faint sirens as Alice apprehensively walked out the front door onto the sidewalk to join him. "Wheeler, the coat rack is burning!" she exclaimed making a move toward it.

Wheeler grabbed her arm to keep her away from the flames because there was nothing she could do anyway. "They are coming now, I can hear the siren" he said hoping for a flat tire. The coat rack needed to be consumed and the fire had a good hold on it. The siren turned out to be a Deputy Sheriff with another fire extinguisher and he was able to beat the flames back to a smolder in short order. The coat rack was reduced to only a couple of the scrolls on top and the thick support legs had their decorative woodwork burned smooth.

Alice and Wheeler recounted their observations through the window and the Deputy dutifully took notes. When Wheeler recalled the back of the truck, Alice said "That was Stevie!" so abruptly both of the men jumped. "He said he would teach me a lesson and he almost did it." Her eyes narrowed like she was preparing to do battle right then. Stevie must have been Pea-Brain, Wheeler thought.

"Ms. Keefer, did you see him throw anything?" the Deputy asked.

"Well no, I didn't even see the truck, but that black old thing that Wheeler saw is his."

"Mr. Wheeler, did you see him throw anything?"

"Not exactly, I only got a good look at the back of the truck, but I can't say even what make it was. I did hear a noise of some sort just before the fire, then just the roar of the truck taking off."

The Deputy stopped writing and looked down at the broken glass on the sidewalk and said "It looks like it was a bottle, probably filled with gasoline and it hit this rack thing on the sidewalk. That was lucky it didn't hit the window, it might have broken it and set the furniture there on fire." The three of them surveyed the scene not saying anything but there was relief in the air.

The city fire truck shut its siren off and pulled up next to the cruiser, angling itself toward the curb and left most of the back of it in the street. Two tired looking firefighters got out relieved to see a light smoke coming off of the coat rack and that it was all over. "We just came from a small brush fire out on the old highway" one of them said. "I'm glad this is over."

The Deputy filled them in with the details as Wheeler leaned down a bit to Alice's ear and said "You're in good hands here, I need to get over to your brother's place and finish up the generator for him."

She looked up at him hesitantly "Yeah, okay. This is just a cleanup job that won't take long." Her sentence built in confidence as she said it, becoming a hint of the Alice he had seen over lunch. Maybe the little bird in her was gone. Wheeler headed down the block to the VW thinking 'Good job' to himself. Whatever or whoever had taken up residence in the coat rack now had no home and was separated by brick and glass from the next possible home when the eviction occurred. Wheeler knew that the inhabitant had a special affinity for the rack and it was unlikely it would just pick something else to attach to. The shop was safe now.

Wheeler drove into the back lot of Keefer Fabrication and saw Bob's legs and butt on display in front of the hanging Hemi with no visible torso. He was bent over at the waist probably checking his work, but it was a funny pose. Wheeler grinned as he noisily approached not wanting to startle Bob. Bob stood to full height, turned around and said "Wheeler! Excellent timing, the weld is just cooling. Come around here and look." They both assumed Bob's previous pose and Wheeler saw a clean hunk of metal connecting two other crusty pieces of frame at the front of the hanging assembly.

"It looks right at home in there, I hope the other fellows don't mind a shiny new neighbor" Wheeler joked, as he lightly brushed some of the crud off of the older pieces. Bob grinned and went over to the lift controls.

"Steady the thing while I get it back over to where it belongs. I told Lee he can come and get it by 5:00 o'clock." The two of them prodded and cajoled the hanging Hemi back into its former home and two sets of wrenches started flying.

About 3:30pm a shiny blue pickup with nice wheels and dark tinted windows rumbled into the back lot. Wheeler was hidden behind the sheet metal of the generator, busily attaching the driveshaft as the truck driver walked into the shop.

"Hi Bob" he said "Are you finally getting that generator apart? Mr. Gregor has been after you for a while." The kid had a way of irritating Bob.

"It's not coming apart, Jake, it's going back together, I got some help" Bob replied with a taunting smirk. Wheeler was peeking through the mechanism under the top cover, watching the exchange as he realized he and young Jake had met the night before in front of the diner in the dark. "Hey wheeler, come on out and meet Jake."

Wheeler stood up behind the generator, making himself look as tall as possible and as innocent as he could. "Hi Jake, pleased to meet you."

Jake went positively white and had a comical 'deer-in-the-headlights' look complete with wide eyes and gaping mouth. His mind was racing through fight or flight options in a confused torrent of possibilities and escape routes.

"Jake! What's the matter with you, say hi to the man" Bob said because Jake was frozen in place.

"Uh, hi" he stammered, "I'm Jake, Jake Carter." He was too far away to shake so he just waved half-heartedly. He didn't want to get too close to Wheeler anyway.

Wheeler didn't give away any recognition and just returned the wave remaining impassive on this second meeting. It did not exactly trigger alarm bells in his head but registered an all too significant coincidence. He scanned his internal memory for messages but there was nothing there yet. Meeting Jake twice like this certainly foretold of a role to be played in some larger drama that was probably the real reason Wheeler was drawn to Eaton, but the complete stage was not ready yet. At least Wheeler felt assured the players and the scripts were being gathered. Not bad progress for his first full day in a new town.

"Sweep up around the big table" Bob said to Jake "and then take my truck over to The Ironworks and pick up the hardware and square tubing I ordered for the gate job."

"Okay boss" Jake said in a more neutral tone, evidently concluding there was no need to run yet. Jake ambled toward the big table keeping a wary eye on Wheeler, picked up the broom and dustpan along the way and swept up Bob's mess from earlier in the day. By the time he finished, Wheeler and Bob had the Hemi connected and were going through the start-up drill to make sure it would run properly. A few tries got the old generator running and the belching start up smoke cloud chased Jake out of the shop on his errand.

"It sounds okay" wheeler yelled over the din, "Do you have a meter to check the voltages?"

"No, I don't have anything like that here" Bob yelled back. Wheeler made a 'keep it going' motion with his hand and trotted out to the VW to get his. It was a cheap one but it worked. He proceeded to check the 12 volts and the 115 volt AC and the AC frequency at the receptacles. The voltages were both good but the frequency was a little off. He grabbed a small screwdriver and adjusted the running speed of the engine to get it right.

"Shut it off" Wheeler said with a hand chop to the throat. Bob flipped it off and the shop went comparatively silent as the generator shuddered to a halt. "That went well," he finished.

"Help me push it around to the back and let's go get a drink" Bob said. They angled the hitch of the generator toward the rear of the shop and both headed for the break table toward the front of the shop. "Soda or water?" Bob asked as he reached into the small refrigerator.

"Water will be fine, thanks Bob."

"Lee will be along in a bit, so we might as well wait here."

"It doesn't seem you really need a helper here, Bob, what else do you have Jake do?" Wheeler was trying to causally wheedle some background out him.

"Well, I promised his dad, Walt Carter, I would let him hang around and try to learn something useful. He's not very useful to Walt, that's for sure. Walt is my neighbor with a few hundred acres of vegetables, artichokes and fruit trees. There's just not much for Jake to do there and not cause his dad some expensive trouble. He's not very handy around big machines and he knows nothing about farming. His dad gives him a good allowance to stay out of his hair. It's cheaper in the end and Walt told me not to pay Jake, he would take care of the money." Wheeler sipped let Bob roll on. He could tell Bob spent a good amount of time alone.

"So I have Jake doing cleanup and errands mostly. Sometimes I need an extra pair of hands that makes him useful, but I don't let him do much of the fabrication. The kid's just got too many thumbs." Bob paused to sip as Wheeler pondered young Jake. He caught Jake trying to break into his VW, he drives a shiny expensive pickup, he must be in his early 20's and Bob just said he has no skills. What does he really do?

"Is he in school or anything?" Wheeler asked.

"When daddy has big money, the kids, he has a brother you know, can live pretty well off the scraps." Bob was gearing up. "Neither one of them works outside of the farm but at least Stevie does some good there. He's the older brother and the name will give you a hint. He's nearly 30 years old and still has his junior high school name that actually suits him. That one never grew up" Bob said, shaking his head.

"He does something out on the farm, maybe fixing tractors or machinery when he's not racing through town causing trouble with his old rattle trap truck. He has an old black thing that he has souped up with a big engine and loud pipes and his dad has gotten him out of more than a few scrapes with that truck than I can remember." Wheeler's internal antennas started to twitch at that last bit.

"Does Alice know Stevie?"

"Oh yeah, they knew each other, in the biblical sense. They were an item for a while until Alice wised up and called it off. Little Stevie has been pestering her silly ever since and she's called the sheriff more than once. I guess when you get everything you want, being overly possessive comes naturally." Ahh yes, Pea-Brain, Wheeler thought.

Wheeler told him about the fire bomb that afternoon at the antique store and Bob bolted straight up tipping over their water bottles in the process.

"Why that little twit!" Bob exclaimed, "Now he has gone too far!" He was standing now with a red face and clenched fists looking to do battle right then.

They didn't notice Alice walking across the shop toward them until she said "Who's gone too far?"

Bob blinked a few times to bring Alice into focus as he tried to formulate a cogent idea of where his outburst was going. Fortunately, Wheeler stepped in to smooth over Bob's rankled nerves.

"I just told Bob about our adventure this afternoon." Wheeler wanted to add 'it's okay' or 'no harm done' but Alice beat him to it.

"I sent the sheriff over to the Carter place to talk to Pea-Brain, but he said there wasn't much he could do. There weren't any witnesses to press charges, but he did say he would threaten him, tell him they're watching, that sort of thing." She delivered her update with calm and grace like she had no care in the world, everything was under control. She could really cause a guy to have whiplash. Bob got his outburst under control and she continued "Besides, you don't have to fight my battles anymore big brother, I've made it clear to him that there is no future for us and I will not forget the past anytime soon."

The three of them just got settled at the table when a faded blue pickup rumbled backwards into the shop tailgate first. Wheeler just caught a glimpse of "Gregor Construction" painted on the door as the truck backed up to the generator and stopped. Lee Gregor got out and joined them at the front of the shop as Bob half stood and stuck out a hand.

"Hi Lee, meet my new man Wheeler. He's the reason you're getting the generator today" Bob said with more than a hint of pride. "I'm hoping he'll stay on for a while." Lee and Wheeler shook hands and Lee greeted Alice the same way. A real polite bunch Wheeler thought.

"I'm real glad you're finished with my generator, if it gives me any more trouble I'll be finished with it too" Lee said as he glanced over to check on it. "I've got a job to start like yesterday and I can't afford any more down time."

"We checked it out after I fixed the busted frame" Bob said, "and it seemed to run just fine."

"Oh it runs okay, it's a good engine. That's not the problem. The problem is my power tools. They keep burning up and I refuse to replace another saw."

Wheeler waded into the conversation and Alice' head swung back and forth like she was watching a tennis match. "The engine speed was a little off making the frequency of the AC power too high. The tools probably didn't care for the extra boost. You shouldn't have that trouble anymore." Wheeler tried to not to sound like a know it all.

Lee looked at quizzically at Wheeler as he spoke to Bob "Where did you get this guy?"

"I found him wandering the streets and just took him in" Bob replied. It was not far from the truth.

"Well you better keep him, if it takes more than a hammer and welder you're lost" Lee said to Bob with a big grin. Everybody chuckled along with Bob. "How much do I owe you Bob?"

Bob pulled the invoice off of the desk behind him and pushed it over to Lee. A wad of 100's changed hands as Lee said "Keep the rest for the new man. If that adjustment works, he just saved me the price of buying a new generator. They hooked the generator to the truck and the three of them watched it follow the truck out of the shop and down the block.

After just a moment's pause Alice asked Wheeler "Where are you staying tonight?" Wheeler was not exactly surprised at the question but hesitated because he hadn't planned out a plausible answer yet. Before the hesitation completed, she continued, "I thought so. Close up with Bob and follow him out to the house, okay with you Bob?" She started looking at Wheeler and finished looking at Bob.

"Fine with me, you go."

"Done" she answered and headed out the back of the shop. Wheeler felt he had just been expertly maneuvered.

### CHAPTER 6

DINNER AT HOME

The two of them pulled up into the driveway, Bob in his shop truck and Wheeler in the VW. The house was only a couple of miles out of town but it could have been hundreds. It was a grand two story that must have had 12 bedrooms to accommodate the large families that were normal back when it was built. It had been adequately maintained by the look of the outside, but in its 100 years there had not been any visible renovation except for the probable plumbing and electrical upgrades. It was still the grand old abode of the mildly affluent land owner.

Bob waited for Wheeler to catch up and held out his closed hand. "Here, this is for you. Lee was pleased with the generator and I sure am pleased to get it back to him."

Wheeler took the rolled up bills and said "Thanks, I'm pleased with it too." They walked past the overgrown shrubs and ducked under the hanging branches of a willow tree, or maybe it was a pepper, Wheeler didn't know. They used the side entrance that opened into a mud room that protected the kitchen just beyond it. Alice had pulled her hair back and rolled up her sleeves. She was putting some kind of casserole into the oven, glanced over her shoulder and turned back to the oven "Hi guys, Bob why don't you do the honors, Wheeler, do you want wine or beer?"

"I'll have beer, thanks" Wheeler said, standing back in the entry trying to stay out of the way. Bob wrestled the bottles out of the refrigerator and said to Wheeler "Make yourself comfortable at the table there" as he pulled out openers and glasses for them. Wheeler's eyes roamed the oversized country kitchen from his vantage point off to the side. The whole arrangement was large enough to feed many more than just the three of them. The table at which he was sitting had five chairs that looked a bit lonely around the heavy wooden table but it was a pleasant combination of cozy and spacious.

Bob brought two bottles of beer and Alice followed him with a blush wine Bob had poured, joining Wheeler at the table. Alice began the conversation.

"So Mr. Wheeler, why is it that you have no first name, or is it only for your close friends?" She looked at him with eyes a bit too wide, a voice a bit too sexy and a grin that was slightly playful. Wheeler nearly blushed and Bob looked on with great interest.

"When I was in grade school" he began, "my buddies and I would make good bicycles out of parts that we could scrounge. Nobody could afford new ones, so we patched and combined parts to be able to ride around instead of walk. The guys thought I was the gifted one that could barter with them and get the best deal. They started calling me Wheeler Dealer and I never liked my real name. Who would name a kid Jules for heaven sakes?"

Alice gave Wheeler a compassionate smile and Bob said "I've never thought about whether or not I like the name Robert. I've been Bob from the start." They were settling into companionable intimacy that made Wheeler feel like a welcome old friend. Wheeler's internal urge to gain information here was growing. There was a trail that he needed to find and his bloodhound sniffer was getting anxious.

"This is a marvelous home you have here. With both of you working in town you probably don't see much of it" Wheeler said, guessing they wouldn't notice he had just dropped a bit of bait.

"It's just as well; neither of us has ever cared much about farming. Our Grandpa worked it as a farm way back when but Daddy didn't have the dirt skills or the desire to keep the farm going" Alice said. "Bob and I were just toddlers when Grandpa passed on and Daddy rented the land for someone else to farm." Alice sipped her wine and seemed to organize the rest of the story together in her mind. "Bob and I just stayed on when Mom passed away, and kept up the rental agreements. The property is all paid for and the income does more than taxes and upkeep, such as it is, and it helps keep mom's antique store going."

"That all sounds like a terrific legacy you have been left" Wheeler said. "Not only an estate but an inheritance that pays dividends right now. You both have a genteel life with no worries, that is really great." He sensed there might be something more to the story. He sipped his beer and waited.

"If only that were the case" Bob continued the narrative. "Our neighbor Walt Carter has been trying to buy us out. Nothing serious but he brings it up whenever I bump into him. His property is just on the other side of the rise from us, about a half a mile down the road." Bob looked to be at the end of his beer and gave the request nod to Alice. She got up while Bob continued. "His property has only one well that can just supply the house with water, nothing more. He has to buy water to have any chance of farming. We have two wells that can water our 200 acres nicely, but Walt's 500 acres take a lot of water. Just when our dad took over from grandpa, he caught Walt's dad angle drilling into our property trying to get to our water. Dad said it nearly came to a shootout but the sheriff and land commissioners back then were able to get it all calmed down."

Bob started on the new beer before continuing. "That was almost 40 years ago and I'm sure they don't have any more water now than they did then. Walt just buys it and has to add it to the price of the crops." He could now give his beer proper attention as Wheeler wondered about the water shortages and the new direction the conversation had just taken. This was an issue concerning big forces and he may have just stumbled onto the reason he was drawn to Eaton. He sipped his second beer as his mind continued down a wet path.

"Are you actually on your way somewhere" Alice said to Wheeler, pulling him out of his reverie.

"I have no real direction" Wheeler said. "I guess I'll just wander like I've been doing until I get tired of it. I like the freedom and simplicity of it all."

"How do you live?" Alice questioned politely. "I don't mean to pry, but I'm curious, how do you handle money and pay your bills? How do you deal with the world that needs its paper trail?" She had accelerated a bit, probably because she was nervous about Wheeler's personal life.

"I have an account at a national bank that pays any bills that get submitted. I have a debit card and credit card that I only occasionally use, and what cash I need comes out of one of thousands of ATMs. There's not much of a paper trail."

Alice returned to her calm self, letting the nervousness subside. "When we moved the furniture in your bus, it looked like you might be living in it, or out of it, it is rather small." Her delivery was back to a calm, measured pace.

"My only bill is a membership at the YMCA. There are Y's all over and they always have a gym and shower. I use their showers and an occasional hotel room, but usually I sleep in the bus parked at an all night diner, a rest stop or a truck stop. It is quite comfortable for just me. I don't entertain much." He spoke with a dead pan expression but there was mirth in his eyes. Bob snorted beer.

"Velcome to my Cherman palace" Bob said as he waved his arm lavishly and bowed sitting in place poking fun at Wheeler. Wheeler laughed first giving them permission and they all joined in a good chuckle.

"You won't have to use it tonight" Alice said, using her best motherly tone, "We have nine spare bedrooms and you will only need one. And besides, we don't need a driveway guard here." Wheeler wondered if she was picking up on a possible future like he did sometimes. It forked his thinking into water and defense. Was something coming?

"Thank you, that is very kind and I appreciate it" he replied a bit timidly.

"I bet our dinner is getting close" Alice said as she reached over to the oven to check on it. "I didn't even ask, do you like tuna casserole Wheeler?"

"Home cooked and smelling like that? You bet I like it. What can I do to help?" Wheeler started to get up.

"Just sit back down and stay out of my way. I'll just pull it out and dinner is served."

Dinner was sumptuous and simple. Alice had heated some crusty rolls, served them with a salad and a boldly spiced tuna casserole that hinted of a Mediterranean flavor that balanced the pasta baked in it. She pulled out a cherry pie that was only half there and sliced off wedges for them, serving it with coffee for desert.

"Every bit of dinner was delightful, Alice, thanks." Wheeler was well satisfied and Alice beamed.

All of them rose to bus dishes as Bob said "Just put the dishes here on the counter and I will do the needful. We bought an industrial strength dishwasher that can take the enamel off so there's not much to this. Why don't you get your stuff out of the VW and I'll show you to a room."

"Thanks Bob, I'll be right back." Wheeler went out into the cool evening, ducked under the low tree and walked around to the front of the house, away from the VW. He was drawn to the center of what used to be an expansive lawn, midway between the house and the access road, twenty feet from the driveway. He just stared, rotating his head around to take in the entire property. He was looking intently but he was trying to see events. Yes, he thought, the next one will be right here. He did not know what would be there but he was certain this was the place. It jumped out at him and his attention was riveted to a bland square of sad brown grass, certain he found the spot.

He spun on his heels and quickly went to the bushes close to the house, looking back and forth for the garden hose that he knew had to be there. When he found it, he pulled the end out to the small spot of grass that seemed to waving at him saying 'Over here, over here.' He chuckled at the help he was getting and went back to the faucet, turning it on to a fast drip. He hoped it wouldn't be noticed with the dishwasher going.

He stopped at the VW on his way back to the kitchen and let himself back in carrying a small bundle under his arm. Mission accomplished. The kitchen betrayed only the aroma left from dinner and Bob was hanging a towel on a hook while Alice sat at the table, finishing her coffee.

"We're up pretty early so I'll just show you the room now, if that's okay?" Bob seemed reluctant to force a schedule.

"Sound good to me" Wheeler said, "I'm ready now, it's been a long day."

Wheeler woke with a start to the sound of a V8 blatting through loud mufflers. According to the clock in his head it was 3:30 in the morning and very dark. The engine was revving up, then down, over and over. The pieces slammed together in his head and he bolted out of bed, patting around in the dark to find his pants. He rushed to the window buttoning his pants in time to see a black pickup truck screaming its engine trying to get out of the swamp he made in the yard after dinner. My little trap caught a bug, he thought, as he grabbed his shirt and ran out of the bedroom.

He met Bob in the living room and followed him to the front door just in time for the two of them to see the truck throw grass at the edge of the lawn and then dirt from the driveway as it screamed off of the property.

"What the hell was that?" Bob said as Alice joined them on the front porch.

"Was that Pea-Brain, I mean Stevie? That little worm! What is he trying to do?"

"Other than digging up your yard, I don't think he did much." To Wheeler, this was under control. To the two Keefers, this was assault into the home territory. They were correct, of course, but this was just an opening volley, the real game had barely started. Wheeler's internal antennas were on high alert, trying to pick out the next steps in this strange saga. That part of the book was not open to him yet but what was there was a research project for tomorrow. There was something he had to know, there was a missing piece of this puzzle that he had to have before the next steps could be planned.

"Let's call the sheriff and send him over to the Carter's place to arrest little Stevie!" Bob was angry and belligerent that would not help the situation.

"Hold on Bob, this is not even as serious as the antique store earlier today" Wheeler said, trying to calm him down. "All he really did was dig up your yard a little bit. Whatever he really had planned, if he had anything planned, never happened." He paused to see if Bob was relaxing. He was, a little bit, but he looked at Wheeler with the remnants of a good huff.

"I really do not like this" Alice said, "I don't like it a bit." She looked scared. "We should call the sheriff, what if he comes back?"

"After the scare he got getting his truck stuck" Wheeler said with an air of authority he didn't feel "I think he'll be hiding out, panting and riding on an adrenaline rush for quite a while. We'll be safe tonight." He paused to let their adrenaline calm down. He would not share his concern for the future.

"We might as well just go back to bed" Bob said with resignation. They all trudged back to their rooms for the rest of the short night. Wheeler could not get rid of the coincidences involving the Carters that kept the attraction of more sleep away. The old water problem, Steve seeming to harass Alice, Jake trying to break into his VW and now Steve again, digging trenches in the front yard, all chased each other around in Wheeler's head. There had to be a story behind it and tomorrow, the research would begin.

### CHAPTER 7

LIFE ON THE FARM

They were finishing the last of the morning coffee as Wheeler spoke up "There are property records I want to research, where do I have to go to get access?"

"What sort of records do you want?" Alice responded. She must be the one that runs the family books, Wheeler mused. "The only county office here in town is the Land Commissioner. They have copies of all the documents from the Recorder's office."

"As long as that includes the deeds, liens and loans, that is where I will have to start" he said with a resolve to take on a paper mountain if he had to.

"What is in the records that you want to know about?" Alice said, a bit confused by the whole conversation.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't have to go searching now would I?" Wheeler chuckled as he delivered his plans in a passable imitation of Oliver Hardy. He left both Bob and Alice with blank stares and said "See you later" as he walked outside.

Wheeler found the office in town just where Bob said it would be and he arrived at 8:30 to give the staff time to get through their first coffee and settle down. He wanted to be as discreet and innocuous in his research as he could be.

"Good morning" Wheeler said to the young man with short sleeves and striped tie. "Could you show me the records north of town on route 35, please?"

The young man handed him a huge, thick book that had property records for the whole area surrounding the Keefer property. The fellow at the counter showed mild curiosity but made no comment.

There were title documents, property tax records, ownership documents and everything recorded concerning each property that went back more than 100 years. Fortunately for Wheeler each page had the property plot designator and his familiarity with parts manuals helped him scan pages in a blur. He was in his research zone where no sound or sense could break in, he could focus to the exclusion of everything except the task at hand. When he found the latest document concerning the Carter property and started reading more deliberately, he was able to pick up fine details that might be relevant later.

~~***~~

The latest document was a rather substantial loan with some interesting fine print, preceded by a lien on his property that was held by a trust. The dates of the two documents were within a day of each other that led Wheeler to the conclusion they were related.

The loan was issued by the Northwest Commercial Bank for a rather substantial sum, with the details present on the document. The interesting fine print indicated a balloon payment was due in just a few weeks. It was only a few years old putting it into the era of creative, low or no down payment loans that were too good to be true.

The other lien holder on the property was just noted as the Cleveland Trust for a mere $300,000, an amount considerably less than the loan. In the notes at the bottom of the single page it said it was 'For services rendered.' No other details were provided. Except for the coincidence of dates there was nothing more to be learned here, but that could not be the whole story. There had to be more and Wheeler needed the internet to find it. He returned the books to the counter to see if there was a Public Library in town.

It appeared there were lunch plans being made behind the counter of the library between the two clerks, but the matronly woman in a flowered dress noticed Wheeler in front of the counter and said "Good morning, may I help you?"

"Hello, do you have an internet computer that I may use?" Dressed as a working guy in a plaid shirt and jeans, and obviously too old to be doing term paper research, Wheeler wanted to be extra polite and not noticeable.

"Sure, we have one just past the children's section" she waved her open palm toward the back.

"Thanks" he said and went to the back to find it.

He recalled his old skill set of using search sites and subtle wording to get all he could out of the public information. He knew whatever information existed was on the Internet somewhere, so he started with the Cleveland Trust because the Northwest Commercial Bank probably was just a bank. The Cleveland Trust was a holding company that held no assets but there were several hints that it held paper for the principals, who were listed in the information about the trust. The principals were a law firm and an accounting firm that were both corporations located in California. This was a classic tax dodge he recognized from his reading of detective novels, but it was not a very good one. The really good ones have the trust owned by another trust, which is owned by an offshore corporation that is registered in the Cayman Islands but located in Switzerland. The layers of the really good ones require the U.S. court system to unravel if it could be done at all.

He tackled the law firm first, getting names of the board of directors from the State Board of Corporations. There were only three members of the board, two of which had the same last name. If it was a small enough operation, it only required three people and it was probably the wife of one of the partners who was 'volunteered' to be the third member of the board for legal reasons. While he was there, Wheeler looked up the accounting firm and found the same set up; two partners and a wife, and yet he was shocked at the coincidence he had uncovered. The three names were the same for both corporations! What did James Wix, Carol Wix and Vern Davies have to do with Walt Carter? The only reason James Wix and Vern Davies could have to be two corporations is to pass assets or financial paper or licenses from one to the other.

In this case, the accounting corporation and the law firm owned the Cleveland Trust which in turn, held a lien on Walt Carter's farm. Somehow, Walt Carter had borrowed money from Cleveland Trust and they put a lien on his property to make sure they get the money back. The coincidence of timing of the Cleveland lien and the Northwest bank loan meant that Walt needed more money than he could just get out of the farm from the bank. What did he do with the money and how could he float a loan that big? Wheeler stared through the computer screen letting his mind wander. He didn't get much traction but he needed to talk to Alice and Bob. The clock his head had just ticked past noon and his stomach growled demanding lunch.

On a whim, Wheeler looked up the addresses of those corporations and the home addresses of the players and was not surprised to find them all conveniently located right in there in Eaton County. The offices shared the same street address in Eaton but with different suite numbers and he presumed by the zip codes, the homes were just outside of town. Okay, they were all local, Wheeler deliberated, but there is still no connection. He had one last thread to follow on the internet, the taxes.

He could not get the actual tax return from the Walter Carter estate but he could get the filing information. It was there on the state web site so realtors and investors could verify that the taxes had been paid and the returns had been filed. Mr. Carter's return had been punctually filed last year by the illustrious accounting firm of Davies and Wix, LLC. He really had to talk to Alice and Bob.

Fortunately it was still the lunch hour and Wheeler guessed the normal place for lunch was the only diner in town and he could see them enter as he pulled up to the curb, practically following them in with impeccable timing.

"Hi guys" he said, sitting next to Alice and across from Bob at a small, square table. They had just gotten menus that were being ignored.

"Ahh, the mysterious stranger returns" Bob said as a greeting "You're just in time."

Wheeler made coffee motions to the busy waitress across the room and Alice asked him "OK, spill it, what's with the urgent research project and what did you find out?"

He waited for the waitress to finish pouring his coffee before he started with the story. "Before I disclose any juicy morsels, what can you tell me about Davies and Wix, the lawyers in town?"

Bob responded "Well let's see, they do have offices here in town and I've heard they do mostly property development, commercial and occasionally residential work. Their big deals are complicated and they have developed stuff that had never been done, that is kind of a big deal for such a small town" He paused, thinking of something and turned to Alice. "Alice, do you remember the truck stop out where the highway meets the freeway? There was some kind of city ordinance against industrial operations at night or something."

"Of course, I remember" Alice picked up on the story. "The city ordinance prohibits industrial noises at night to keep the evenings pleasant or something. Davies and Wix bought a few acres at the junction and had the city limits moved so their square was technically outside of the city. Rumor was they made a bundle when they sold it to an oil company to operate it."

Wheeler drifted away from the conversation for a moment, thinking. The waitress, Julie, according to her name tag, came over to take their lunch order. The truck stop information did not do anything for him yet.

"Remember the scandal with the last mayor," Alice continued, looking thoughtful "His name was Wilson, or Winthrop or something, wasn't it?"

"Oh, yeah" Bob replied "It was Weston, I think."

"That's right!" Alice said just like she was on a game show. "He was accused of co-mingling city money with his own" she smirked. "A polite phrase for embezzlement, the jerk. He hired Davies and Wix and it became just confusion on his taxes that they cleared up, letting him off the hook."

"And what a surprise," Bob added, "he didn't get re-elected." Bob feigned shock with a broad grin. All of them had a good laugh at that one. Wheeler thought he still didn't have enough dots to connect as Julie returned with lunch expertly balanced on one arm, holding the coffee pot in the other. Wheeler covered his quandary by paying attention to his pot roast, giving up on fitting the pieces together. Now it was time for the locals.

"I found some interesting details about the Carter property" Wheeler said not sure where this was really going. "It seems Walter took out a rather substantial loan on the property and there was a lien placed at the same time." Bob and Alice looked on with blank expressions so Wheeler tried to prime their pumps. "That is a common combination for new home buyers that don't have enough for the down payment, so they borrow it to make the bank think they are more solvent than they really are." Alice was seeing the inconsistency but Bob was still blank.

"But Walt owns the property outright," Alice tried to help Bob. "His family probably paid off any mortgage 75 years ago. He didn't need a down payment." She and Wheeler now shared the same expression of curiosity and wonder.

Wheeler continued the story "The other thing is that the lien is registered to Davies and Wix with no information about it except that it was for 'services rendered.' What services could they have provided?"

After a moment, Alice asked "When did all this take place?"

"Both of the documents were recorded in June of 2007." Wheeler gave her a minute to let her work something out in her head. The pot roast was quite good.

"2007, 2007" she said slowly. "I remember" she said suddenly "that was when they put in the Indian Gaming Casino. The construction went on for more than a year and there were all kinds of strange people in town."

"Oh yeah" Bob joined in "I was so busy I actually had a backlog of work that whole time. Does that have anything to do with anything?" They were all thinking and eating in slow motion. Luckily the lunch rush was just a few tables with people at them so they didn't feel rushed.

"If the lien, which was $300,000 by the way, was actually for services rendered like the paperwork says, what could they have done for Walt Carter that would be worth that much money?" Wheeler was thinking out loud more than making a point.

Alice looked up from her pot roast and asked Wheeler "How much was the bank loan for?"

"Five and a half million dollars"

Bob whistled and exclaimed "Wow, I didn't think that place would be worth anywhere near that much. I wonder what he did with all that money."

"It sure is funny the timing matches the casino construction" Alice said. "They started all the building in late in 2007 and opened up in early 2009."

She paused looking pensive, then added "Say, what does this have to do with anything?"

Wheeler hesitated, debating with himself how much to tell them. He decided to go ahead "The attempted fire-bombing of your shop, Alice, and our strange visitor at the house last night don't add up to a disgruntled lover, no matter how jilted he is feeling. Somebody has gone too far with this and I have a strong sense there are bigger forces at work here than we know."

Something tugged at his mind but it was just out of reach, something he had read. Alice and Bob looked on with sober expressions not knowing if they should be worried. "I have to check on something, I'll meet up with you later" and he darted out of the diner.

### CHAPTER 8

THE HALF TRUTH

Wheeler headed back to chat with his new buddy in short sleeves at the Land Commissioner office and take another look at the books. Whatever he was looking for had to be in those books.

"Do you have another file of smaller pages for the recordings?" Wheeler asked him, fishing for more documents. Sometimes they put normal sized documents separate than the oversize books he had seen that morning, to make sure they didn't get lost in the two foot by three foot binder.

"Sure, mister, but nobody ever wants to see those, they are all fine print and legalese that I don't think are actually in English" he chuckled, sharing his insider's joke.

"That's okay, maybe I'll understand a word or two. May I have the file associated with this plot number?" Wheeler rattled off the plot number and the clerk went to the back. Wheeler carried both the file and the big book back to the table where he had spent most of the morning.

He carefully reviewed the few pages in the big book concerning the property, the loan documents and the lien that didn't reveal anything more to add to his lunch time revelations. He opened the smaller file and started digging. It was the supporting documentation for the recent loan as well as old tax appraisals, permits for the odd upgrade and plans for the new barn built in 1946. The loan package drew his attention because he thought whatever he was being drawn to must be in the more recent documents. The recent appraisal showed 300 acres of useful land, a residence with three out-buildings and two wells capable of producing 4000 acre-feet of water between the two of them. He didn't know much about farming but that seemed all in order, except his attention kept being drawn to the number 4000. He leaned back to rest his eyes, mulling over the number stuck in his head.

On a whim, Wheeler went back to visit shirt sleeves at the counter and asked "Can I have the small file for the properties to the south of the file you gave me?" That was the direction in which the Keefer farm was located relative to the Carter farm and that might give him some perspective.

The young fellow nodded, disappearing down a row of shelves and file cabinets and returned with a modest folder. "Not much action in this area" he told Wheeler as he handed over the thin file.

Wheeler found the corresponding tax appraisal for the Keefer farm and looked at its numbers. He found the well rating for Bob and Alice' farm was only 3000 acre feet. He had no idea what the numbers meant but he was sure they didn't match up very well. Either the Carter number was inflated or the Keefer number was deflated. The Keefer place was only 200 acres compared to the 300 acres indicated for the Carter place, so if the numbers were correct, the water availability would correlate. Unfortunately, the water stealing incident that Bob and Alice told him about from the 1960's hinted that the Carter amount of water was wrong.

Wheeler absent mindedly thumbed through the files in front of him and chanced upon the old tax appraisal for the Carter farm that was done in the 1980's. Page seven of the document was missing and that just happened to be the page that listed the water capabilities of the water wells on the property. With that page missing, there was no easy way to compare the latest loan documents with the historical record.

Someone had cooked the books, Wheeler realized, and the originals at the County Recorder's office probably had that page missing too. Whoever had done it had access or at least contacts that could alter official documents and had the juice and the nerve to bend the records. Wheeler thought he knew but looked a bit closer at the documents to find the last piece of the puzzle he was trying to complete: the appraisal for the loan was submitted by Davies and Wix Accounting, LLC.

Altogether too tidy, Wheeler thought, as he walked back the VW in the middle of the afternoon. The connection was now complete, at least in Wheeler's mind. Davies and Wix had worked some illegal magic to get a loan for Walter Carter that he probably could not have gotten otherwise, for some use, maybe the Indian Casino, and something was happening now that had him, or them, riled up. It must be something so significant that they were coming after Alice and Bob for some reason.

Wheeler had stopped in the middle of the parking lot thinking and had not noticed he was staring at a spot on the pavement. He thought the discoloration looked like a balloon with a cute tail and the top opened up in mid-burst. "A BALLOON!" he screamed out loud. He looked around embarrassed by his outburst but there was nobody around. He raced to the VW and took off as fast as its little sewing machine engine would take him.

Wheeler raced the little engine as much as he dared, darting around the sparse traffic on a sleepy workday afternoon, heading to the antique shop. He skidded to a stop at the back entrance and ran inside the open door. "Alice, Alice, where are you?" he said in a pant.

She peered around a tall hutch looking startled and said "What, I'm over here."

"Come to the back" he said sharply in a booming voice. "We've got to get out of here. Quick, come with me." He was relieved to see her but he was not any less anxious.

"What?" She said joining him at the back of the shop, "What is it?"

Wheeler grabbed her arm and led her out into the parking area where the VW was parked at an odd angle right in the middle. "Hop in, we have to go, now" he said ducking into the bus and starting it up in one fluid motion.

"Wait, I have to lock up" Alice protested weakly but she got into the bus anyway. Wheeler looked determined and she could tell there was something very wrong. He pulled the bus out just as she slammed the door and off they went toward Bob's shop. Alice spoke quickly, alternating between protests and questions about what happened, what was happening, was Bob alright, her shop was open, what was going on?

Wheeler interrupted her "Wait for it." That was all he said. Alice blinked stunned. Did he just tell her to shut up? She was deciding whether or not she should be getting angry with him when they heard a crashing boom back from where they had just departed. Alice ejected a startled yelp as they pulled up to Main Street and stopped, just able to see the billowing black smoke coming out of what used to be Old Glorys. They could see debris littering the street and very little sunlight getting through the smoke to the ground. Wheeler looked carefully to see if there was any evidence or indication of how this happened but there was nothing. Alice just whimpered in the passenger seat, looking past him toward the shop.

"That was close," he said. "Let's get over to Bob's shop, there's nothing we can do back there" he said pointing a thumb toward the smoke. He slowly made the right turn on Main and they could hear the sirens off in the distance. It was a quiet ride with both of them in their own private worlds. Wheeler went back into playing mental connect the dots and Alice was in a cold sweat, numb at the loss of her livelihood and her narrow escape. If Wheeler had been just a few seconds later, she would have been inside the blast instead of bouncing down a side street in his VW. She was a puddle in the seat and didn't feel any of the bumps in the road.

Bob was alone and not very busy and Wheeler didn't think they would see Jake again in the shop. They drove in the back and led Bob out to the front to see the fire truck pull up to the curb. Smoke was billowing out the hole in the roof and it was obvious that the small shop was fully engulfed and would be gutted. Alice drifted deeper into shock and Wheeler had to help her back inside to the break table. Bob brought waters for them knowing there was something wrong but wanting to get Alice settled. They, well mostly Wheeler, told Bob about the blast at Alice' shop and her narrow escape as Alice slowly came to her senses.

She abruptly snapped out of her stupor and focused on Wheeler "You have averted a few of these near misses, or at least, you seem to know beforehand what is going to happen." She was building momentum. "You come into town from nowhere just when all of these disasters start, too. Either you're part of it or there is something strange going on with you. What is it?" She was squinting at him, forgetting about the blast for the moment.

"Oh no, I'm not part of anything here" he said. "When I drove into Eaton, I had no idea there was anything going on at all, and I've never met anybody in town either." As a half truth, Wheeler thought, that was pretty good. He could not lie to these people.

Alice was not convinced but her face softened. Bob looked on intently. Alice continued "Well, okay" she said not sure where to go with this "how did you know when the bomb was going to go off so you could pull me out at exactly the last possible moment?"

"I didn't exactly. I was leaving the Land Commissioner's Office getting the last few pieces of information we need about Carter when I knew I had to get you out of the shop immediately. What I sensed in the land office was Walt's desperation about the balloon payment." He paused to formulate the right wording. "I just knew" he emphasized the last word "you were in danger and I had to get you out. I didn't know what the danger was but it was palpable." Both Alice and Bob had 'Hummm' expressions and it was Bob that continued.

"Last night, when the truck got stuck in the mud puddle at the house, you were the one that made the puddle, weren't you?"

"Yeah, afraid so."

"I keep the water down to nothing because I don't want to mow it. I was going to check it for leaks the first chance I got." Bob was starting to look satisfied with the reasoning but uncomfortable with the implications. "Are you telling us you just 'know' stuff?"

"In a way, you are correct. I was drawn here, to Eaton, for the same reason. I just had to get here for something and I never know why until it unfolds. I have not been just been wandering, I am drawn to different places like a moth to a light."

"When you left the house this morning, did you know what you were going out to research?" Alice was doing an admirable job of playing connect the dots herself. Wheeler was impressed. "Did you know what you were looking for?"

"I had no idea. I just went to the office trusting I would be led to the right book or person. I don't even ask anymore, I just go and patiently let it unfold. It either comes to me or I go somewhere else." Alice and Bob were getting more curious as the conversation progressed, allowing their adrenaline levels to subside.

"Oh" Alice said, remembering Wheeler's afternoon trip back to the land office "What did you find out this afternoon? You must have been drawn back there for something."

"Oh yes, that was worthwhile" Wheeler said "there were two things. The well capacity stated on Carter's loan documents indicates there is sufficient water to operate a farm. I compared it to yours and it correlates."

"But that's not right, Carter has almost no water" Alice said, confirming Wheeler's conclusions.

"That's what I thought too. It sounded fishy, but the accounting firm of Davies and Wix seemed to think it was there and told the bank in their appraisal."

"What?" Bob interjected "They don't do appraisals, do they?" He looked at Alice.

"I don't think so" she said slowly, looking confused. "Can they just make up an appraisal and submit it? If they can, that's a pretty dumb bank."

"That's not the good part, listen to this" Wheeler interrupted because he wanted to get the whole story out so they could do the examination with all the facts. "There is a balloon payment due in a few weeks that is the entire loan amount. The fine print states that the loan can be re-negotiated at the time the balloon is due if a bank-appointed appraiser can verify the value of the property."

"So that's why Walt is causing all the trouble!" Alice exclaimed. "He's trying to get us out so he can take over our farm and help himself to the water." All four of the Keefer eyes went wide, understanding the implication. There are no wells to find so the appraisal will come in substantially under what a true, self-contained farm would be worth. They all thought together the pressure to replace the loan must be squeezing hard on Walt.

"But this is all crazy" Bob added. "There's nothing he can do in a few weeks, even if he does get us out. What's the point?"

"I don't know but he is associated with Davies and Wix, that is starting to look like a shifty legal team. We know now, or at least think we know, what this is about" Wheeler said. "Do you two trust me enough to help stop it?" Wheeler leveled his gaze at them, looking for signs of strength and sensing internally if he was on the right path with them.

"We have to" Bob replied.

"I think so" Alice said, hesitating.

"We will have to go on the offensive and bring the fight to them and it could get dangerous, are you sure?" Wheeler challenged them with the inevitable.

Wheeler could tell both Alice and Bob were reviewing the dangers and now the exploded antique shop while considering his proposal.

"I'm in" they both said in unison.

### CHAPTER 9

UNDERCOVER

The three of them drove to what was left of Old Glorys just as the fire department was pulling their equipment out of a gutted shell. The front of the building was gone, the framing for the door and windows must have been in the rubble in the middle of the street and there was no sign of furniture anywhere. There was just the odd, foot tall pile of cinders here and there inside. This was not just a fire, it was an explosion that caused all of this.

Alice and Bob huddled around the fire chief to get what information they could, but it was all slow motion now. There was nothing to do, nothing to say. Alice' car keys were in her purse, in the mess somewhere but it didn't matter. The car caught fire as well. They rode back to Bob's shop, collected his truck and drove out to the farm hoping it was still there.

The last light of the day was fading when they got there but there was enough light to see that the house and the grounds were just fine. Alice and Bob were somber but Wheeler's mind was racing. There was a next step to be taken and the time was now.

"Can you fix us a fast dinner" Wheeler said to one or both of them "We've got a job tonight." The last part he said like safe-cracker from an old gangster movie, making a weak attempt to lighten the mood. He sat at the table to think, or more accurately, to listen, to glean some insight into the evening's activities. He actually had as much as he would get but he was just making sure he didn't miss any cues. This next phase had to be timed and choreographed perfectly.

Bob brought a plate of sandwiches and Alice followed with what looked like juice.

"Excellent, no beer for us tonight, we will have to be sharp" Wheeler said, coming out or his reverie.

"Okay, the suspense is killing me," Bob said, reaching for a sandwich. "What did you get from the great beyond?" He asked in a joking manner but he wasn't critical. He was coming to appreciate Wheeler's strange abilities.

"I am assuming the casino is not far from here" Wheeler said "we have to go out there."

"It's only a half hour drive out of town. Do you know why?" Alice asked between bites.

"Not yet, but like I told you, I only get one step at a time" he said pleasantly. "Here's what I know so far, the house here should be okay, but I want you, Bob, to stay here so it doesn't look like an easy target. Alice and I will go the casino, and we should be leaving now." They were about finished with the quick sandwiches anyway.

"Okay" Bob said. "You go and I'll clean up here. Do you know how long you're going to be?"

"We should be back before midnight" Wheeler replied. "Is that under your curfew here?" Wheeler was still trying to lighten the mood.

"Just so you know, boy" Bob was playing his part well, "I'll be out on the front porch there cleaning my shotgun so y'all best be early."

"Okay pappy" Alice joined in. None of them wanted to acknowledge the uncertainties they all faced. Alice gave Bob a light peck on the cheek as the started to leave.

"Make sure that gun is clean" Wheeler said in a quiet, serious tone.

Alice and Wheeler saw the casino lights arcing up into the horizon before they could see any structures. Alice filled him in on the history and answered his questions about the layout, the parking lots and the surroundings. Wheeler was looking for a clue to direct them into the evening's festivities. He didn't have anything yet but they drove into the parking lot at the front of the facility and gaped at the light show on the large building. It was big by small town standards but only medium sized for a casino.

Actually, it was nowhere the size of the big casinos in Vegas or Atlantic City but made up for its compact size in garish lighting. There were sequential running lights shows, figures that seemed to move, signs that blinked 'Show Girls' and 'Well Drinks $1' and a host of other tasteless figures in neon that disgusted Wheeler. This was not a family-friendly place.

"Well, what do we do next?" Alice asked, nonplussed at the light show. She had seen it before and didn't comment.

"We're not going in there" he said with obvious displeasure, "let's try around back." With his negative reaction to the front he 'knew' that wasn't right, so he started his wander to find the right place.

He slowly maneuvered through the front lot to the dimly lit service entrances in the back. He pulled the VW to the back of the parking area to get a good view of the loading docks but far enough away to not be noticed. He backed in to an overflow area and shut off the engine to wait.

"Is this it?" Alice asked. "What do we do now?"

"We just wait" Wheeler said distractedly, "it won't be long." He was leaning closer to the windshield of the bus to get a better view. It wasn't any better than leaning back so he relaxed and scanned the area as attentively as he could. It didn't take long.

A bakery truck pulled into the lot, made a sweeping u-turn and backed up to the loading dock. A white uniformed attendant got out of the cab, hopped up onto the dock and opened the back doors of the delivery van. He rolled a bread rack out that had only two bundles and rolled it through the swinging doors.

"That's interesting" Wheeler said.

"Why?" asked Alice. "It's just a delivery. They probably get a lot of them."

"But a bread delivery" he consulted his internal clock "at 9:40 at night? Don't they usually deliver at five in the morning? Two loaves do not make much of a delivery."

The white uniformed delivery baker returned to the dock with a rack half full of 'loaves', opened the van doors and shoved the rack inside.

"And besides" Wheeler said starting the engine "why would the bakery delivery van be doing a pick up from a casino?"

"Very suspicious, Holmes" Alice said, drawing out the words like a contemplative Dr. Watson. She grinned at Wheeler and turned back to see the bakery van rolling out of the parking lot.

"The chase is on" Wheeler said sounding slightly British as he followed the bakery van with the headlights on the VW still off. The van drove down the access road to the highway and turned toward Eaton with Wheeler following at a respectful distance. There was not much traffic at this hour so he stayed well back.

The van made the trip obeying speed laws and behaving as a law abiding citizen and Wheeler had no trouble keeping it in sight. It turned off Main Street in Eaton then drove up the alley behind a commercial row of shops and offices. Wheeler held back then followed, driving past the alley and parking on the side street so they could just get a view of the bakery van when it stopped. The baker knocked on the back door of the building, then turned to open the back of the van and disappeared inside. A figure came out of the building and propped the door open, spilling light out into the alley. A bundle appeared from disembodied arms and it was handed it the new guy who went back inside.

"That's Wix" Alice said, in a loud breathy whisper. "I've seen him in town."

"I like it when the boss gets out there and does real labor with the hired help" Wheeler whispered back, grinning broadly.

Alice punched him lightly on the shoulder as the unloading continued in a steady stream. Wheeler and Alice watched two dozen loaves change hands and disappear inside the back entrance to the office building. The baker closed the van and drove off, Wix shut the door and it was all over in less than two minutes.

"Pretty slick," Wheeler said in a normal tone.

"Well, it sure wasn't bakery bread. The only thing a casino makes is money, and that looked like a lot of money."

Wheeler shut off the VW in the driveway at 10:30 under the watchful eyes of Bob 'Pappy' Keefer guarding the porch with is shotgun, good to his word.

"Anything happen here?" Alice asked, her apprehension easing as she saw Bob looking relaxed on the porch.

"Naw" Bob said in character, "Purdy quiet 'round these ports." He made a loud spitting sound to make it sound more convincing. Then he got up and said "Well, tell me what happened" as he led them inside without a shred of hayseed showing.

Around the table, Alice told him about the phony bread and the delivery to Wix as Wheeler served beer and wine from the refrigerator. He did feel like part of the family now, he thought as he joined them at the table.

"We probably know about Walt Carter's problem" Wheeler started the analysis, "but the bread delivery doesn't quite fit. The bread is money going into Davies and Wix but Walt's problem is not enough money."

Alice and Bob didn't join in to help, so Wheeler continued "Let's extrapolate here a bit. If the Carter loan was to buy into the casino he should be getting money out of it. He evidently has not gotten enough to pay off or replace the loan so he is getting desperate, and we've seen, desperate men do desperate things."

It was quiet for a moment as the all sipped and contemplated.

Alice began "Davies and Wix have been in some shady deals and have not been caught at anything. Probably because they are just plain good at this stuff, you know, the worst reputation of lawyers might have been because of them." She sipped to consider "What if they cut themselves in on the casino project, somehow, and now they are double crossing Walt?"

"The money going out the back" Bob added "sure looks like something shady or maybe illegal, but how do we find out or even prove anything?"

"Our problem is not proof quite yet" Wheeler said. "I am never involved in something that belongs to the authorities; it's never that easy for me. The way I see it, our problem now is to find out who is stiffing whom and then come up with a plan. We have just found a pair of really big sharks in a tiny pond." Alice and Bob nodded and the planning session was over. Anything else that could be done that night was lost on tired minds and bodies. Wheeler felt another busy day coming tomorrow.

### CHAPTER 10

THE SET UP

The day started slowly for Alice, she had no place to go. Bob went off to the shop to keep up normal appearances and Wheeler assured him nothing was going to happen during the day. Wheeler did, however, ask him to gas up the shop truck and close up promptly at five. Bob was getting to understand Wheeler's odd motivations and didn't ask why, he just agreed and left.

Alice brought more coffee and the two of them planned a bit longer at the kitchen table.

"Is there anything on for today, Wheeler?"

"I'm trying to figure out how we get a look at the balance sheet for the casino, I want to know if it is making money. Any ideas?"

"We could break into the accountant's office and rifle the files?" She said it as a question but the grin canceled her credibility. "You're the great researcher, how about the internet?"

"We can't get the numbers by just entering names and dates" Wheeler said, searching both his inner and outer memory banks. Both shelves were bare but there was a tickle of something else, maybe an instruction. He would just pay attention and let it come in when it wanted to arrive.

"What about Davies and Wix" Alice pressed on "what do they do with the money? If they are tapping the casino, and probably working other schemes, there has to be more money than we saw last night. They can't just put the money in their savings account at the bank, can they?"

"I think you're on to something." Wheeler didn't know why but Alice's idea had a ring of truth that intrigued him. "What do they do with the money? It goes into the back door of the office, but then where?" They were both staring out into space now and not getting much traction.

Wheeler was staring but his mind was on a forked path, one fork was the unanswerable money question and the other fork was the urge to go, to be somewhere. He realized the tickle he sensed a moment ago had grown while he wasn't paying attention and said "Get your stuff, it's time to go."

Alice blinked herself back into the room and replied with a confused "Huh?"

Wheeler collected her and they were off in the VW headed into Eaton. He was pleasantly enjoying the drive because there was no rush. Alice asked "Where are we going? Do you have a lead on the money?"

"No, I don't think so. It feels like it is something else but it's related. I'll know before long, we're almost into town." He drove in on Main Street, the only way in, and pulled down the side street to the parking place they used to watch the bakery truck unload. "This must be it" he said, settling into the quiet now that the engine was turned off. VW didn't make the most hushed of car engines.

Alice looked out the windshield to the back of the buildings viewing the single vehicle, a black Chevy Suburban with tinted windows. It reminded her of the FBI trucks from the cop shows on television. "What are we looking for?" she asked.

"I don't know yet but it will probably come in or go out of the back door to Davies and Wix, right there" he punctuated his sentence with an imaginary thumb and finger gun. As if right on cue, the back door slammed open and Walt Carter stomped out the door, huffing over to the Suburban. Even from this distance, Alice and Wheeler could tell he was very angry. Walt climbed in behind the tinted window and in seconds he was racing out of the parking lot and heading away from the VW.

When it was quiet again Wheeler broke the silence "I guess you were right about Davies and Wix."

"About the money? What did I say?"

"No, not about the money, the schemes. If they were involved with Walt in a scam, maybe they are now scamming Walt." Now Wheeler was on a roll. "Money greases all kinds of squeaky wheels and old Walt's wheels sure look squeaky to me and he's getting no grease."

"I agree with that, but what is the scam and how do we prove any of this, one way or the other?" Alice was doing an admirable job sleuthing the facts, but there was still something missing. They had little to go on.

"Let's think about this" Wheeler began "We have Walt desperate to redo his loan, there is a hazy trail of timing linking all three of them to the casino and there is cash coming out of the casino into Davies and Wix."

"You realize we don't really know any of this?" Alice reminded him.

Wheeler jumped into action, starting the VW and putting it into gear in one fluid motion and said "Let's go" as he pushed bus up to breakneck legal speed, out onto Main Street toward the casino.

"Do we know any of this?" Alice asked, wondering if she had struck a chord.

"Oh no, it's not that," Wheeler said, attentive to his driving. "I just got a powerful urge to lose five bucks on the slots." He glanced over at her with a big, smug grin, knowing he had just picked her up in his whirlwind.

"What's at the casino?" she exclaimed, "Did you get something?"

"All I got is that we have to be there as fast as we can" he said. "This one feels important, I hope we don't miss it."

The drive was familiar to Wheeler this time, as he expertly negotiated the parking lot and pulled in trying to get out even before the bus stopped. Alice followed right on his heels and he handed her some money.

"You stay toward the middle of the room and keep me in sight and you keep out of sight. I don't want them to recognize you. I need to go over to the Exchange window." Wheeler finished his instructions as the automatic doors opened. He saw the cameras and hoped they would not be a problem. Alice wondered if he had been here before. There was an exchange window at the back and she could easily hide behind the slot machines littered throughout the facility.

Wheeler made his way through the medium crowd, the blinking machines and the people clotted along his way. He made good speed and didn't appear to be anything but another patron looking to cash in or cash out. He got $10 in tokens and laughed to himself, thinking his $10 was real money and the cashier thought he was just a cheapskate. He appeared to wander the machines looking for the best one as he made his way toward the hallway behind the Exchange booth.

The crowd was thin here and he had to be careful. He leaned against the wall just inside the hallway looking out toward the gambling floor giving the best impression he could be a weary gambler making heavy decisions. His true purpose was to listen down the hall to locate Walt Carter. The way Walt left Eaton, he should not be hard to find but he didn't hear anything behind him. Wheeler moved his attention to his inner senses and then wandered away in search of another hall.

He found the hallway next to the money exchange at the rear of the main floor. The entry doors to the hallway were between the exchange booth and another booth labeled Guest Services and Security. He approached the Guest Services counter to speak to the attractive, young woman behind the counter wearing a brief cocktail dress and too much makeup.

"Yes sir, can I help you?" Too perky, Wheeler thought.

"Yes, I hope so. I have some tokens that I got in Shreveport from the Watonka Reservation Casino, and I wondered if I might use them here?"

"No, I'm sorry sir, we only honor our own tokens" she said with a smile that would melt ice cubes. Wheeler wanted to draw this out as long as he could because this was the best vantage point he could get to monitor the hallway.

"That's too bad, I have quite a few" he said, "I just thought Watonaka, your place, might be associated with the Watonka in Shreveport. Are they associated in any way, do you know?"

"I'm sorry sir, I wouldn't know" she said with that same smile. She was well practiced.

"Do they give you people any of the heritage of the tribe and the reservation? That stuff fascinates me." Now Wheeler was playing a passable role of wide-eyed tourist, digging for background.

Now he could hear a commotion down the hall when someone opened a door. It stayed open and he could hear "...there has to be money, look at the crowds!" There was murmuring he could not hear, and then "I'm going to get to the bottom of this," there was a pause, and then a fragment "...another set of books." Walt Carter stormed out of the open door and stomped down the hallway, away from Wheeler.

"Thanks" Wheeler said to the Guest Services woman and quickly headed out toward the front entrance, gathering up Alice on the way.

"I saw Walt, he still looks mad" Alice said, jogging to keep up. "Did you learn anything?"

"He confirmed one of our theories, he is getting swindled." Wheeler and Alice were at the VW now and Wheeler said "Let's see where he's going." They followed Walt's black Suburban back to town. The VW couldn't really keep up but they could see Suburban in the distance occasionally. When they pulled in to Eaton, it was its normal, placid self with no sign of the Suburban.

"Go around the side street" Alice said, pointing to the right. "Then go back down Grover Street so we can see behind the buildings on Main." They spotted the big black Suburban parked behind the bank. Wheeler stopped on the side street to provide them with a good view and waited. Walt came out the rear entrance of the bank and walked slowly to his truck, got in and drove away just as slowly.

"Whatever it was, they said no" Wheeler commented. After they had stared at noting at the back of the bank, he continued "But you know, I have an idea, let's throw him a life raft."

"Why ever would you want to do that?" Alice exclaimed, showing both shock and disbelief.

"You'll have to trust me on this, it is not just a neighborly task I am contemplating, it is a beginning."

Alice once again, said "Okay" to Wheeler's mystery but was willing to go along with it. "Where are we going?"

"Just relax in my German chariot and you will see at once" Wheeler said with a flourish, starting the bus and driving off.

He drove all of three blocks, parking in the Land Commissioner's Office parking lot.

"Isn't this where you have doing most of your research? What else do we need to know?" Alice said as she got out of the VW and followed Wheeler into the building.

As they entered the building Wheeler whispered "Just follow my lead, we are planting information, not collecting it."

Before Alice could respond they were at the counter in front of the same young man in the short sleeve shirt and he said "Hi Alice, what brings you in here?"

"Hi Dave, I'm here to help my friend Wheeler here do some more research." Wheeler looked at her a moment surprised and impressed. She came up with a perfect cover.

"Hi, I'm Wheeler. Good to see you again." He reached over the counter with an open hand, they shook.

"I'm pleased to meet you."

"I'm interested to find out what I can about oil rights to Ms. Keefer's farm. I work for Calvin T. Boone down in Texas, he's an oil man, you probably haven't heard of him." Wheeler delivered his rapid fire introduction to put young Dave off balance.

"No, I can't say as I have" Dave stammered.

"I'm his soil geologist and I must say, I might have found a spectacular opportunity for Mr. Boone on Ms. Keefer's farm. Before I go any further, I must say that Mr. Boone and I would be very pleased if you would keep this conversation confidential, it avoids complications. Could you do that Dave?" Wheeler planned for this to be spread out in the community in seconds.

"I can do that Mr. Wheeler, sure" Dave said with a hint of excitement. Poor guy, Wheeler thought, he never gets anything this juicy.

"Excellent Dave, we really do need to keep this quiet" Wheeler continued, planting the hook real deep then setting it. "What I need to know is who owns the mineral rights below the farm? Are they specified in the land grant?"

Dave looked away and surveyed the files, cabinets and documents to locate the original paperwork in his head. "I have an idea" he said as he walked down an aisle, ignoring them. He returned with a dog-eared folder thick with mismatched pages and placed it on the counter.

"Let's see, this is the oldest file I have on original grants. Back then the government issued grants that sparsely detailed plot locations, new owners and laughable amounts of money" he said as he carefully thumbed through the folder. The papers were brown, crinkly and penned by an artistic hand. "The information back then, mostly the 1870's and 1880's, didn't really say what the rights were, they just defined ownership and the omission today is interpreted as full rights." Dave was engrossed in his search and paid no attention to Alice and Wheeler. They had pushed his 'Go' button and he was off and running.

"Here it is, the oldest grant deed to the Keefer property" Dave said, carefully placing the document on the counter so Alice and Wheeler could see it. It was a single page that was very official looking but had almost no content. "Notice the absence of definitions, like I was saying. This is typical of the period."

They all read the document, Wheeler appearing to be an expert, Dave and Alice looking on expectantly. "Excellent" Wheeler said quietly. "This is just what I wanted to see." He turned to Alice "Ms. Keefer, I will bring the core drilling rig out immediately and find out exactly how far down we have to go" Wheeler said, making sure Dave could hear. "This whole area could be a major producer and we need to get going fast."

Wheeler turned to Dave "Thank you for your cooperation, Dave. Remember what I said."

"Yes sir, Mr. Wheeler, you can trust me." Wheeler and Alice walked out to the bus bursting with excitement, holding back the desire to laugh out loud.

Inside the building, Dave dialed a memorized number. "Mr. Wix? This is Dave down at the Land office."

### CHAPTER 11

FARM LIFE

Alice and Wheeler walked to the VW with a forced calm and casually drove away as Alice burst out like a school girl "That was AWSOME! The fur is going to fly after that stunt." She was bouncing on the seat laughing out loud.

"This is going to be FUN!" he exclaimed, only half paying attention to driving. In his joy, he reached his arm out to pull Alice closer and said "We were a great team in there. You set it up perfectly for us." Alice giggled and leaned up to kiss Wheeler on the cheek. He turned to look at her at just the right moment and their lips met, surprising both of them. She lingered in surprise, enjoying the mishap and after a long moment, Wheeler pulled away slowly.

"OH!" she said, realizing the implications. She did like Wheeler but had not thought about him in quite this way. He glanced back at the road to correct his small drift but Alice kept her eyes on him with am appraising look. There might be something here after all, she thought.

Wheeler glanced back at her with a big juvenile grin and said "That was nice." He drove most of the way over to Bob's shop with his arm around her shoulders and Alice leaning into his ribs. Her warmth was comfortable and they both felt serenity and satisfaction.

They got out of the bus in the back lot of Bob's Fab shop and the laughter and back slapping resumed. Bob looked up from is work on the bench and said "What's gotten into you two?"

They updated him on their morning's activities as they enjoyed some of Bob's shop coffee. Both Wheeler and Alice filled in details, each one drawing out more details, embellishing the others story until the three of them were all laughing. After a while, they calmed down.

"Where do we go from here?" Bob asked. "How does this help us?"

Wheeler answered "This was a spur of the moment thing, but we sure have gone on the offensive. I don't see the coming use for this but I do see that we need to make the interests of Calvin T. Boone, oil tycoon, look urgent and realistic." Wheeler sipped his coffee, it wasn't that bad, and checked his internal message system. It had a picture of a hand drilling rig that he hoped Bob could build. It did look impressive.

"Bob, I need you to build something for me. It is a gasoline engine powered core drill to punch holes in the dirt and take samples. We are going into the oil business, after all" Wheeler said with a mischievous grin.

"Well gosh, I don't know." Bob said a bit taken aback by the abrupt change of direction of the conversation. "What does it look like?"

Wheeler proceeded to sketch on a scrap paper and before long they had their heads together engrossed in details. Alice became bored with the mechanical trivia and said "Bob, can I use your truck? I need to get over to the insurance office and settle some details about the fire. Maybe I need to go shopping too."

"Sure, go ahead" Bob said without looking up. They did have the detail and identified a few requirements, it had to be loud, easily transportable and one man operable. "You know, I've seen something like this at Lee Gregor's yard. Do you remember him? He's the guy with the generator."

"Sure, I remember, could you call him? We need to get moving" Wheeler said enthusiastically.

Bob called the office and got the answer machine, then tried the cell phone and got Lee and a lot of background noise. "Yeah" somebody yelled. "Hang on, I can't hear." A noisy minute passed and then a voice said "This is Lee."

"Hi Lee, this is Bob, I want to talk to you about your gas engine powered drill. Will that thing drill a big hole in the ground?"

"Sure Bob, I use it for drilling fence posts in the outback. You finally are going to prop up your sagging fence out at the house?" Lee was holding back a laugh because he had been teasing Bob for quite a while about the fence he called the local eyesore.

"Something like that. Can I borrow it for a few days? Same deal as last time, I'll use it and tune it up for you before I give it back." Bob and Lee had evidently traded labor and repairs for some time. Small towns are like that, Wheeler noticed as he blatantly eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Sure Bob, it's in the back of the shop in the same place, help yourself. I'm a few miles out of town so it will have to be self serve today." Lee was pleased to help.

"Thanks Lee, I owe you again" Bob said and hung up. He turned to Wheeler "Well, if a post-hole digger looks like a core driller, we're in. We'll get it on the way to lunch. Are you ready for lunch?"

"I'll say, we worked hard for it, let's go."

Bob cleaned up and ushered Wheeler out the back, closing the door behind them. "I just started locking the door to the shop. I don't have a safe feeling like I once had." Bob said as they got in Wheeler's bus.

They were on their way back into town with the driller in the back when Bob said "We will probably meet Alice at the diner. It's about time and we usually eat there." They pulled into the lot in the back, walked in the rear entrance and spotted Alice having coffee reading the free advertiser at a table for four. She looked up in mock surprise, batting her eyelids "Well, fancy meetin' y'all here! I had no idea you boys ate lunch around these parts." She said it with a southern drawl that made both Wheeler and her brother chuckle as they sat down.

"Aren't you just the spunky one?" Bob said, in his most fatherly tone. "Have you been out trashing around with BOYS young lady?"

"No but it was almost as much fun. I was at the department store after I went to the insurance office, and I bumped into Evelyn Morton." She looked at Wheeler "You remember her from the delivery of the tables?" He nodded, it was a small town.

"She was bubbling and blathering about the oil wells we were going to put up. She said it would be great for the town, great for us and she asked me how to find out if she had oil on her property too!" Alice was holding back her excitement so firmly her face showed a pale blush. Wheeler thought she looked five years younger and he was moved in more than a brotherly way.

"Wow, that was fast" Bob exclaimed. "This has to be some kind of record, getting the rumor out by noon!"

"This is wonderful" Wheeler added. "The big fish have to be swarming all over our bait. We will set the hook after lunch. Alice, you and I have another show to put on after lunch. We will need to find a few places on your property that are visible from the road, or at least easily visible to the interested parties that I'm sure will be watching."

A waitress Wheeler had not seen before took their lunch orders and brought coffee for them. The diner had no more patrons than any other visit, but Wheeler noticed this time there were furtive glances and hushed conversations at the other tables. Maybe it was Wheeler's enhanced sensitivity but he didn't think so. They were trying to find out more about the oil man and the soon-to-be rich family, wondering if the wealth would be spread around. Wheeler played to the crowd, tipping his head to the middle of the table and whispering to Alice and Bob when it was not necessary.

A companionable if not giddy lunch concluded and Wheeler said in a whisper "We'll meet at the shop and check out the driller. Bob, you will have to give me a short course on operation, I have to look like a pro."

"Those things are simple, no problem for a handy guy like you" Bob smiled.

Wheeler stood looking specifically at Alice and said in a voice a bit too loud for her ears alone "Let's go look and see what you've got under that green stuff you got on your property, what do you call them, crops?" Alice and Bob choked back guffaws and put on polite smiles to the backwater oilman that knew nothing about farming.

Back at the shop, Wheeler was pleased to find out it did look like the driller he had imagined and it was easy to operate. It had an obvious drill bit, so Wheeler had Bob weld on a tube to make it look like it could take core samples. They loaded it back into the VW and headed out to the Keefer oil field. Wheeler and Alice laughed the whole way.

Alice led them to the rear of the property where her renter had planted a short, leafy crop of something that Alice said was radishes. They slowly drove on the dirt path between the rows looking for the most visible place that would not hurt the plants. He stopped the VW off to the side so the rear doors would open on the path and he lifted the driller out, making sure the bus didn't block the view. He tilted his head down, apparently to look at the ground while scanning the ridge and the road for visitors. "This is a good place right here" he said. He went back to the bus for his gloves but he was stalling to make sure there was time to get the observers in place.

He drilled the first hole and made an elaborate show of spreading the dirt around on his hands and knees to get a better look. Alice joined him and spread dirt of her own. They spent some time playing in the dirt to make it convincing and Wheeler jotted notes in a notebook, before filling in the hole and moving on to the next place. The notebook was Wheeler's history of his VW repairs and part numbers but nobody could see what was inside. He even borrowed Alice's cell phone to take 'GPS readings' and make careful records at each stop. Wheeler moved deliberately between locations and the whole exercise took a few hours.

They did see the occasional observer so the outing was a success. They packed up the drill rig and made it back to the shop in the late afternoon in time to catch Bob at the end of his work day. Wheeler and Alice were tired from all the drilling, loading and unloading but they were satisfied the mission was accomplished.

Bob was seated at his break table nursing a soda and raised his can in mock toast "To the returning heroes" he said. "Were you a success?"

"We made Swiss cheese out of the back 40" Alice told Bob as she reached into the refrigerator for two more sodas. "I even feel like a soil expert." She looked over at Wheeler with more than just a pleased look.

Bob caught the look and suspected his sister had more than dirt on her mind and an optimism that had been missing lately. He was pleased that she was being distracted from Stevie, the fire, losing her shop and the uncertainty it all brings. She needed a bright spot in her life and he was not about to be discouraging.

Wheeler and Alice joined Bob and Wheeler said "We accomplished phase one perfectly, now we wait."

"What are we waiting for?" Alice asked him knowing what the answer would be.

"This time," Wheeler began "there are several players that have to get coordinated. We have only laid the groundwork and started process."

"That is diplomatic enough way, I believe" Alice said with a smirk, "to say that you don't have a clue, do you Wheeler?"

Bob chuckled, enjoying the show. It was mysterious but he was astute enough to recognize Wheeler's pattern. Wheeler was connected to something that borders on the unknowable and he was aware of covert information. It all appeared to be relevant to a real problem, and Bob hoped the solution would end up to their benefit. It made his head swim, but all Bob could really do is enjoy the ride.

"Not really", Wheeler said, "but it is coming together. This one is darker than I am used to but I am getting the same kind inputs. What is missing is any insight about who is involved and where this is all going."

"I must say," Bob observed, "I have never seen anything like this and would have not believed there was a reality to any of it. Alice and I were raised Lutheran and were taught about God but you have not said you are connected to God." Bob paused, not wanting to encroach on forbidden territory. "Is that what you believe this all to be?"

"I really don't know, Bob. I have wondered myself and the best I can come up with is what I can do must be a part of God, or Spirit. It is certainly for the good of the people with whom I come in contact but the information I get never has a signature page" Wheeler said, grinning to make Bob feel at ease. "Sometimes I think I am the arms and legs of some higher spirit and I do things for people that can't hear it."

They all jumped when they heard the front door of the shop open and the entry bell chime. Nobody used the front. "Hello? Is anybody back there?" They looked to the front in unison and saw the head of Walter Carter peering through the doorway.

### CHAPTER 12

THE SCORECARD

Walter Carter walked into the shop from the front, past the unused, dusty service counter and stopped between the benches on either side of the doorway to the work area. Walter was distinguished older gentleman with gray streaks in his short cropped hair and he wore an expensive looking pale blue golf shirt with gray slacks. He looked more like a doctor or bank manager than a farmer and his manicure convinced Wheeler his days probably didn't require use of tools. Alice, Bob and Wheeler looked on surprised to see their next door neighbor and apprehensive about the visit.

"Hi Alice, hi Bob, it's been a while" he said reaching his hand out to Alice then Bob. He was cordial and pleasant with a hint of reptile in his voice. He reached over to Wheeler and said "Hi, I'm Walt Carter." He and Wheeler shook hands and Wheeler sensed desperation hidden behind a facade of confident arrogance.

"Come on in, Walt, have a seat. Would you like a soda?" Bob inquired, trying to be pleasant. He was trying to come up with small talk but there wasn't any to be had.

Walt settled at the table saying "No thanks, I'll only be a minute. I had heard Mr. Wheeler here was looking for oil on your property." That was Walt, right to the point.

"Well, yes, I am" Wheeler looked surprised but he knew what was coming.

"If you are finding anything there" Walt continued "What are the chances you could find oil on my place?"

Wheeler wanted to tease him along "I have found some promising soil on the Keefer place" he glanced at Alice hiding the wink and nod he wanted to give her, "and it is the type that indicates spreading oil and possibly an old formation." He had no idea about proper terminology so he just tried to sound scholarly.

"If you are going to be here a while," Walt barreled on, "could you come to my place and take some samples, maybe see if there's anything there?" Walt broke his arrogance slightly allowing his desperation leak through. Wheeler's senses were right on. Walt was at the end of his rope.

"Well," Wheeler deliberated slowly, seeming to check an imaginary date planner on the wall, "I could extend my stay a bit." He dragged it out more.

"I could make it worth your while if that is a problem." Walt was showing a bit of agitation now.

"I will need a few supplies" Wheeler said distractedly. It was getting agonizing now for Alice and Bob. They had to remain serious but they were thrilled that Walt was now obviously squirming and they could not show anything.

"Anything you need, I'll pay for it or get it for you." Walt had been strung out enough, and it was time for Wheeler to let him off the hook.

"I'll get the stuff now" Wheeler said sincerely, "and I could go over to your place tomorrow in the morning, would that be all right?"

"That would be great" Walt said with obvious relief. "We're up early on the farm, anytime you like would be fine, thank you." Walt said his goodbye's and was out of the shop on a run. It was all the three of them could do to keep from laughing loud but they muffled their giggles the best that they could until he was out of earshot.

Wheeler was the first to comment "That was fast. We just got back from drilling your place and Walt showed up. The grapevine here is very well greased."

Alice was amazed at the last few hours and Walt showing up made the whole sequence surreal. What actually was going on here? She wondered. "What did you actually expect to happen after we went drilling?" Alice asked.

"Well, I did want to stir the pot a bit, but I didn't know who would be the first to step up. I guess it had to be someone."

Bob just shook his head a bit more seriously and commented, "I hope you know you know what you're doing."

They closed up the shop for the night and headed to the Keefer farm, Alice riding with Wheeler and Bob driving his truck. Wheeler did not really need supplies but he did leave the driller in the back of the bus, ready for a morning show at the Carter farm. Dinner was a relaxed affair served with wine before the pork chops and dessert after. Wheeler needed a moment outside and excused himself after doing his part in the cleanup and Alice asked to join him. He hesitated before consenting and they walked out into the yard together.

"I do need to check my internal communication system" Wheeler said, walking arm in arm with Alice. "I've been running around and have not been able to settle myself with being quiet."

"Do you need me to leave you alone?" Alice inquired.

"If you just be quiet with me, I will become receptive enough" Wheeler said. They walked slowly around the detached garage away from the house.

The evening was clear and the stars dominated the scene having little competition from the lights of Eaton. As they walked in silence, Wheeler went into a zone that was neither here in the three dimensional world or there in the realm of pure consciousness. He was drifting, barely aware of Alice holding his arm and barely aware she was leading their stroll. He felt the pulse of the universe, the slight pressure of souls in the direction of Eaton and the spongy presence of the earth absorbing and releasing energy to give life to the humans. It always started this way for Wheeler. He sensed the perfection of the universal system and the continual process of balance and re-balance. As he sensed this balance, he became balanced.

They continued walking in silence and Wheeler moved his attention to the current issue, wordlessly asking the universe what was the issue, who were the players and what was his role. It sometimes paid off, usually, as in this case, he got images with no real explanation. In his mind's eye, he saw money bricks flying in and out of the Davies and Wix office, the Casino propped up on wobbly sticks and Walt Carter reaching hopelessly up to the money, not able to grasp any of it. In an effort to get some insight, Wheeler focused on each image in turn to see if there was more detail available to him.

The casino had a subtle, dark river flowing into it from below that looked to be made of black bricks. One of the sticks that supported the casino was actually Walt Carter wearing a shabby Indian chief bonnet and struggling to keep it stable. Wheeler looked at the Davies and Wix office carefully and noticed the volume of money bricks flowing in far exceeded the outflow of bricks. Now it made as much sense to Wheeler as it ever did. He had his answer and he would share the information when the time was right.

He returned to Alice' side and joined her in the stroll. "This is nice outside here" he said, more to alert Alice that he was back with her than to comment on the evening. She pulled him in closer in response. They looped around a lonely tree and headed back to the house in silence, their closeness providing communication that words could not. When they entered the farmhouse, Wheeler hesitated at the landing to the stairs as Alice took his hand and led him up to her room. Her emerald laser eyes held a warm determination that would not be denied and Wheeler was clearly under their spell.

### CHAPTER 13

BLACK GOLD

Wheeler drove the short distance out the gate of the Keefer farm over to the Carter farm. He needed that short time alone to bolster his demeanor into supporting the next ruse he had planned. It would not be an elaborate one but it would have to be just convincing enough to assure Walt that his troubles could be over.

He entered the driveway flanked by solid looking metal tubes that supported an over-sized double gate that would easily pass two big rig trucks at the same time. The drive itself was paved, unlike Alice and Bob's, and ended in a circle at the base of two giant columns supporting the entry to the house. It was vaguely reminiscent of a porch but was there for impression value not function. Wheeler pulled halfway around the circle and stopped his VW and started to get when Walt came out one of the over-sized front doors.

"Good morning, Mr. Wheeler" he said, still wearing a predator's smile.

Wheeler reached out his greeting and said "Good morning Mr. Carter." Wheeler was already in the mode of blocking any energy that might get transferred because he was aware of Walt's dark energy reaching out to gain a grip on him.

Wheeler began abruptly to minimize the exposure to the energy "I need to drive the property to get an idea where the most likely places are. I will have to drill and take several samples."

Walt nodded "I would like to tag along, maybe I could help?"

"Sure, hop in" Wheeler replied agreeably. Walt directed him to the open land behind the house that again had some kind of crop that Wheeler didn't recognize but he did see it was not in very good shape. It was pale green and brown looking wilted and tired. Wheeler paused to make a good show of surveying the land from inside the bus.

"How do we get over there?" Wheeler inquired. Walt directed them around and between the crops to the place Wheeler indicated. Wheeler stopped on the dirt path, got out of the bus and scraped the dirt with his toe looking for something soft to drill. He didn't want this to be too hard to do, it was only a show after all.

"How does this work?" Walt asked. "I mean, if you find oil?"

"What Mr. Boone usually does" Wheeler began "is to sign a drilling contract with the owner. It gives him the right to set up drilling equipment and pumps and the land owner gets an agreed amount per barrel recovered." Wheeler was apparently evaluating the dirt and location while speaking. He kept track of Walt out of the corner of his eye.

Wheeler continued "If it looks promising, Mr. Boone will set up several wells and take over a good sized plot." Wheeler was still looking around not making a move to get the driller out of the bus yet. Walt was beside himself, anxious to get the samples taken and start the oil pumping. Wheeler finally opened the bus and pulled the driller out.

Wheeler drilled the first hole as far as he could go with the single pipe Bob attached to the motor. Wheeler pulled the drill out of the hole to attach the second pipe so he could go deeper. Walt was no help at all and looked on with wild eyes and sweat on his brow that was obviously not from labor. The drill went as far as it could and Wheeler pulled it up carefully to retain the 'sample' and gently laid it horizontally on the path. He separated the motor from the pipe, pushed the plunger Bob made down the pipe and spread the dirt out on the path in a neat column. Wheeler found a dark ring in the sample about three feet down and loudly exclaimed "Oh yeah, here we go!"

"What? Where? What did you find?" Walt said frantically. Wheeler hoped he did not have a stroke.

"Look right there" Wheeler calmly pointed at the dark earth.

"I see it" Walt said looking up and down the column not seeing what Wheeler was pointing at.

"That dark ring just below the surface hints at past oil that was much closer to the top. It might have been a leak from the lower pool. It might have been a spill that was covered by a natural process of moving earth, you know, wind, rain and runoff covering it over." Wheeler had no idea what processes were involved with soil geology but he impressed himself with his scholarly delivery.

"Okay, what do we do now?" Walt was shaking with excitement. "Who do you call?"

"Not so fast, I need to take enough samples to cover the entire area, and then send them to the lab for analysis." Wheeler wanted to build the tension with Walt and buy himself some time. "Mr. Boone will not make any commitments without strong assurances there is something worth drilling. This is a costly business."

"I can make it worth your while and I will do that to cover your expenses here." Walt had to show his financial strength. It was his predator instinct.

Wheeler pointed to places back and forth across the property that he needed to get samples from for the next few hours and he dragged Walt through the process over and over again. Walt was not used to the exertion and was thoroughly tired when they got back to the house.

"Come on in, we'll get some water" Walt said, leading Wheeler inside. Wheeler's impression of the house was one of rustic elegance and opulence, if that was possible in a farmhouse. This was not a farmhouse anyway, it was a country estate. He shook his head.

Walt led them through the entry, stopping at the wet bar just beyond to pick up water and continued to Walt's office. Walt sat behind a massive polished wood desk and motioned for Wheeler to sit in the visitor chair.

"How does it really look?" Walt began, wanting to hear it again. During the drilling exercise, Wheeler peppered Walt with 'Oh wow' and 'I've never seen anything like this' so many times that Walt was hyperventilating most of the time.

Wheeler took a sip of water "Mr. Boone will be well pleased when we get confirmation. This site has the earmarks of a really big find." Walt reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a wrapped bundle. Wheeler reached for a sheet of paper from the stationary stack on the desk and whisked it into his pocket without Walt seeing anything. Walt turned back to Wheeler, opened the wrapping and put a stack of bills on the desk. The paper collar holding them tightly together had $10,000 printed on both sides.

"Take this to help speed the process" he said, pushing the stack over to Wheeler's side of the desk. Now Walt looked a bit smug, certain that his money problems were over. "If you can expedite the tests and get back to Mr. Boone quickly I would be very grateful. Can I call Mr. Boone and get things going?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Carter, Mr. Boone does not respond to a new site until the entire package has been assembled. Even then, your first contact will probably be from the lawyers anyway."

"I see" Walt said, getting up from the desk. The meeting was over. "Thank you for coming out, I'm really pleased with what you found."

"You're welcome, I'll be in touch as soon as I know anything" Wheeler said, as he picked up the bundle and headed out to the VW.

He drove back to the Keefer place elated. He had a bonus package of money that he would use for the next phase and to subsidize his travels. He did need to replenish funds whenever he could and this was one of the largest and if he could figure out how to use it for the oil ruse, it might come in handy. He would certainly tell Alice and Bob about his trip next door and the plans. There were no cars in the driveway to the farm, so he just kept going, the diner was the best bet.

He did find Bob and Alice at the diner in the middle of lunch, pleased he was not too late. He was hungry.

"Wheeler" Alice squealed and got up to give him a firm hug. "I'm so glad you're back!"

"What?" He said surprised "Did you think I'd leave town?"

"No" Alice said quietly, "I was afraid something might happen." Her voice trailed off, not really finishing the thought.

"Ahh, not to worry" He said sitting down to join them. "It went perfectly." Then he said a bit too loud "Walt's tests look better than yours." Several heads at the diner leaned over, craning to pick up information. "I've never seen anything like it." He said as he leaned toward the table and whispered very loud. Both Alice and Bob choked back giggle fits and settled down to finish lunch.

"Alice, have you anything planned for this afternoon?" Wheeler asked so only they could hear. The rest of the diner had heard enough.

"No, what did you have in mind" Alice said as she batted her eyes and gave Wheeler a dreamy look. Bob smirked.

"How can I finish my lunch with this going on?" Bob said feigning disgust while holding back a laugh. He was pleased Alice had gotten her old humor back and Wheeler was turning out to be a good guy.

Wheeler blushed just a bit and was saved by the waitress. He studied the menu too hard, and then ordered a tuna melt and fries. He thought his level of fatty foods was getting low. "I'll fill you in at Bob's shop before we go" he said, gliding over Alice's innuendo. He was not being aloof to make a point, he was just shy.

When they had seated themselves around Bob's table at the shop, Wheeler began "There is black money coming into the casino and it's getting distributed from the casino, to Davies and Wix and to Carter. There has to be a reason it was black in my vision, so let's look at it to find out why.

"Walt gave me a big wad and we have to use some of it, but I want to make sure we don't get blackened by the stuff." He brought the bundle of money with him and put it down on the table so they could see it.

"That looks like a lot of money!" Bob exclaimed, reaching across the table to grasp the bundle.

"Don't touch any of it" Wheeler grabbed Bob's wrist to hold it away from the money. "We can't leave any traces until we find out more about it. I don't want us to put any fingerprints on it, because I have a suspicion we might be sending the White Collar Crime Unit a gift with a return address. Bob, do you have gloves here we can use?"

"Sure, right here" Bob said as he reached over to his supply cabinet to get latex gloves for all of them.

Wheeler donned gloves and broke open the package, spreading $100 bills across the table.

"We need to find out why it's black, grab some gloves and let's start looking" Wheeler said, and all three of them started spreading bills out on the table, holding them up to the light and comparing two at a time.

"This is a lot of money" Alice said, holding up bills to do her own comparing. "Is it phony or are we looking for something else?"

"It probably is but let's see if we can find something by looking" Wheeler said as he spread bills out and picked up random samples. "They may not know about it if the money is bad."

"I'm not sure what a real one looks like" Bob said. "How can we tell?" He was doing his best to compare, though. "Hey, I have a stash here in the shop!" Bob hopped up, pushing his chair back with a scrape, and opened the drawer of the desk behind him. "Here, look at this" he said handing the bill over to Wheeler.

"We can't mix this one in to the pile" Wheeler said, comparing it to one of the unknown bills. "Hum. The serial number looks different" he said handing a pair of bills to Alice. "Look here." He pointed to the numbers.

Alice looked closely, and then said "It might be a different font." She compared Bob's bill to another and then another. Not all of them showed the subtle number differences. "Look at the one here and here" she said, holding the bills in front of Bob and pointing at the difference.

"I think you're right, they do look different" Bob said. "It's not a very good counterfeit if I can see it." Alice showed them to Wheeler and they all agreed it was plain if you knew what to look for.

Bob put his bills back in the drawer and they started to separate the other bills into piles: good ones, phonies and unknowns. There were not that many phonies but the unknown pile was significant. They had $2900 in phony bills, $5200 in good bills and $1900 in the unknown pile. They sat back with 'Now what' expression on their faces as they admired the stacks of $100 bills.

Wheeler asked Bob for a pen and removed the stolen paper from his pocket. It was rumpled but not damaged and he spread it out on the table so Bob and Alice could read it. It was a blank letter with the following letterhead embossed across the top in elegant script: 'Carter Agriculture, Walter Carter, Proprietor.'

"Let's write out a letter and send it away" Wheeler said with a mischievous grin, "I feel like batting the hornet's nest."

Wheeler took three of the $100 bills, the letter and the pen and led Alice out to the VW. They were headed to the casino.

They entered the parking lot and pulled into a convenient parking space. "All we need is an envelope with the casino logo on it," Wheeler said. "Got any ideas?"

Alice considered the challenge for a moment, and then responded "Why don't we just ask them for one?"

Wheeler exhaled sharply, "Yeah, why didn't I think of that?" He grinned, pleased that he had a competent accomplice.

They made their way to the gift shop and wandered the aisles for a moment to get the feel of the place. There were two customers at the register so they waited for a clear opening to the clerk, who was a young man, probably working his way through college. Alice stepped up to take the lead, pausing at the counter until she got noticed.

"May I help you?" the clerk asked.

"Yes, I hope so" Alice began. "I don't see envelopes on the shelves out here, do you have any?"

"No ma'am, but we do have postcards, would that do?" He was trying to be helpful.

"It really won't" she said, appearing very disappointed and a little bit stressed. "I wanted to send the program from last night's show to my sister, she really wanted to come but couldn't." Alice looked away, apparently hiding tears. She really was good at this stuff.

The college kid behind the counter reached down low and said "I suppose it would be all right to give you this." He put an envelope on the counter for her.

"Would you mind terribly" Alice said in a sticky sweet voice "giving me three of them? We will be here through the week."

"Oh sure, I'm glad to help." The kid would have emptied the cash register for her by that time. He placed two more envelopes on top of the first.

"Oh thank you" Alice gushed, "do you have stamps at the counter?" He retrieved a strip out of the same drawer and she paid.

"You have made our stay here wonderful," she gushed. "Thank you so much." They left the gift shop making their way out to the VW. Wheeler was as pleased as Alice was. She got the envelopes, they were making their escape, nobody was chasing them and Wheeler did not have say a thing.

"That was masterful" Wheeler said as they left the building. "We only needed one envelope, why did you get three?"

"You are silly" she said with a full width grin, "How was I supposed to get an envelope without touching it?"

"I am in the presence of greatness" he said, bowing as they walked. "I am humbled by your talents."

In the privacy of the bus, they donned gloves, carefully printed the address on an envelope without touching it. They wrapped the bills they brought from the shop and put it all in the envelope, daubing water on the flap to make the seal.

"Done" Wheeler said. "Let's mail it and get out of here. Did you see a post box or do we go back inside?"

"There's a slot" Alice began but was interrupted when phone began to ring. "It's Bob. The slot is at the front." She pointed to the casino and answered the phone. She spoke with Bob as Wheeler pulled up to the entry to mail the letter.

He got back in and asked "Is he making sure I'm not doing anything with his little sister?" He drove away chuckling at his own joke.

Alice was somber. "Wix came by the shop. He said he wants to talk to you and said he will wait for you at his the office. He told Bob it's urgent."

"Wow, the rumor net sure is fast" Wheeler mused. "I wonder what he wants?"

### CHAPTER 14

ENEMY CAMP

Wheeler pulled the VW to the curb in front of Davies and Wix. Whether it was the legal office or accounting office he didn't know. He waited in the bus to make sure he was mentally centered and would be able to play the right role because he never knew what demands would be made of him. At times like this, he released himself into his inner power to make sure he did not get in his own way. The hints that he gets are not enough to allow him the full ability to maneuver or manage a situation to perfection, and right now, he needed perfection. He exhaled and went in.

He followed the lights to the only office that was occupied and found a handsome, older man wearing a tweed jacket, open collar and no tie sitting behind the desk. He had short cropped gray hair in a soft version of a flattop and too much redness in his cheeks. Wheeler thought it might have been too much alcohol or a thin skin condition and would not give him the benefit of the doubt.

Wix stood up "I'm Jim Wix" he said, reaching out his hand to shake. "You must be Mr. Wheeler."

Wheeler grasped his hand. It was limp and cold, which is never a good sign. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Please, sit down" Wix said, indicating a visitor chair opposite to his own that placed the desk between them. "I asked you here to talk about the oil that you've found in our little community."

"Excuse me, but I have not actually found oil" Wheeler said with a true laboratory technician precision.

"Well yes, but that is only a technicality." Wheeler shrugged and Wix continued "I have a little problem that I need your help with."

Wheeler was reminded of some kind of a snake that didn't rattle its warning or spread its neck, it just waited patiently and struck with no warning.

"I'll help if I can Mr. Wix" Wheeler responded as pleasantly as he could.

"Please, call me Jim. What I need you to do, Mr. Wheeler, is to hold back the samples you have collected until the first of the month, and then make sure the results are not available for another month more."

"Mr. Wix, I mean Jim, sorry, why would I want to do that? I thought the results would be wanted as soon as possible."

"Here's the problem, we have a real estate issue that must unfold in its proper time and I am concerned that the confirmation of oil on the property will compromise many months of preparation" Wix said, confident Wheeler would jump to solve his problem.

"I don't see how I could help in that problem" Wheeler stalled, not knowing where he was going with his response. "It seems to me the information that is already out there will compromise your deal. As you say, the lab results are just a technicality."

"Mr. Wheeler, trust me," Wix said barely hiding fangs, "the results are more than a technicality to some people. This is important."

"I am just a field technician, I'm not sure what I can really do" Wheeler stalled some more. "Mr. Boone is expecting answers soon." He sensed there was more to this conversation.

Wix reached to a lower drawer in his desk and Wheeler took the same opportunity that Walt presented to grab a printed sheet off the desk and put it in his jacket pocket. That was too easy. Wix leaned back upright bringing two bundles with him and he put them on the desk.

"Mr. Wheeler, here is a little encouragement to help you grease any wheels you need to in order to stall the test results." Wix challenged Wheeler to deny the request.

Wheeler feigned shock and stammered "Is that what I think it is? I don't know if that is appropriate." Wheeler was responding as a high morality lab tech would.

"Look at this from my point of view. This," he indicated the bundles "is just the cost of doing business. In my line of work, Mr. Wheeler, money is always required to make more money, and that is all we are doing here, making money." He displayed a humorless smile that he probably practiced in front of a mirror in his early days.

"This is a bit unusual. You are asking me to delay the test results for Mr. Carter's farm and I have not been here long enough to know about relationships, but it does seem you are involved in his property." Wheeler paused, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "Mr. Carter seemed awfully anxious, are you sure this is okay?" Wheeler had stalled about long enough and Jim Wix was using up his persuasions.

"Walt Carter does not need to know about our little arrangement" Wix said showing himself to be more of a predator than a salesman. "By the time you do have the test results, Walt will not be in the picture." Wheeler felt a cold shiver, sensing the true import of what Wix was really saying. This was not the time for Wheeler to make any waves in the pond of Wix's scheme, it was time to grab and run.

"Well. Mr. Wix, er Jim," Wheeler hesitated, "I have never done this before but I think there is a way for me to add a bit of delay without anybody getting concerned. I will just take this and be on my way."

"Excellent, Mr. Wheeler" Wix said, holding out his hand to seal the deal.

Wheeler lifted the bundles and left the office. He wanted to run out of the office to get away from Wix, but he settled for a deliberate walk down the dark corridor out to the VW. He took a deep breath when he cleared the door, and started the process of getting the Wix slime off. He had to think and use a sounding board, well, boards to get this all to make sense. Bob and Alice could give him some more background that he felt he needed because there was a tickle in the back of his mind that was not ready to come out.

He drove slowly out of town, tumbling the pieces he knew around and around, giving them every chance to fall into place. Walt Carter had given him one brick, a lot of money. Wix had just given him two bricks, even more money. Certainly the prospect of oil on the property had tantalized all the players but what was Wix real role? He was on the title to the Carter property and could legally step in if the balloon payment was not made and handily take over, but Walt would not just back away from the family farm. Wheeler caught himself driving aimlessly around, the disjointed facts fogging his brain just as aimlessly.

There was the vision wherein the casino had the black, flowing river coming in from the bottom that was the bad money, Walt wearing a tattered Indian headdress holding up a corner of the building and the other black flow going over to Davies and Wix. Then there was the expected visit by Walt carter to recruit him to test for oil next door to Alice and Bob and the unexpected intrusion of Jim Wix to delay the oil test results. There was enough money flowing to keep Wheeler going for years if was careful to only choose the good bills. And then there was little Stevie who had not been seen since the mud-fest across the front lawn of the Keefer farm. Wheeler did not usually stumble into such complication, in fact, he never had. He drove vaguely toward the farm turning the seemingly random facts over to his inner intelligence, figuring that if it could provide him with direction then turnabout was fair play.

~~***~~

The next morning, the White Collar Crimes Unit hummed with its normal subdued murmur one hundred miles away from Eaton. It never really got urgent crimes and its offices were filled with researchers, clever with computers and insightful with laws and regulations. It was because of those developments that Jack Hudson had been given the noble task of opening the department's mail. He was not any good with computers because he was from a past era when the department was more like a police force than a research library. He didn't care, he only had a few months to go before retirement and he had lost his boyish enthusiasm for the job so long ago he didn't remember what real police work was like. He didn't want to become a computer geek either.

Jack collected the stack of mail, all five pieces, filled his coffee mug and ambled over to his desk. His was the only one devoid of electronics save for the telephone that he rarely used, an old fashioned inbox and a neat stack of files representing his meager workload. He slit the envelopes one after the next, sipped his coffee and peeked inside one by one. When he came across the envelope with the three one hundred dollar bills he spewed a bit of coffee onto the desk and said "Whoa, what do we have here?" He said it to no one in particular and not a head turned. He was invisible to the kids as he called them and he reached into the envelope, carefully pinching out the bills and a letter. Jack carefully pried open the letter with the opener and his pen so he could read it without touching it any more than he already had. This is what it said:

To Whom It May Concern,

I am sure no expert, but at least I can spot funny money. Look at the font on the serial numbers. The wife and I were having a good time until this junk showed up, so I cashed us out to my account and used the rest to pay the hotel bill. These are the only bills I have left and I don't want them.

We're not ever coming back to this crooked casino so I don't care if you slam their doors shut, just protect the town down the way from financial ruin.

One other thing, there's a bread truck that makes a delivery at the back of the casino most nights at about 10:00pm. I was in the business; bread gets delivered just before dawn.

Concerned citizen.

Jack re-read the letter a few times to try to get more out of it. Here was a guy that didn't want to get involved, saw the money and sent a letter to give him time to gain distance. He could be anyone and he could be anywhere. Unless there are fingerprints, Jack mused, there is no lead there. He would send the letter and the bills over to the FBI lab to check anyway. He carefully placed the letter and the bills in plastic bags and headed over to talk to the captain about going back out in the field.

"Hey, Cap, look at what the mail delivered to us" Jack said as he entered the captain's office. The captain was a true bureaucrat dressed in an expensively tailored, mid-price suit, silk tie, silk shirt and manicured nails, close cropped hair and tidy mustache. Captain Bronson bristled at the familiarity which Jack used to address him and Jack always fought back a chuckle imagining Captain Bronson dressed in daddy's suit playing executive. Other than being 25 years younger than Jack, he was an acceptable captain, and besides, Jack wouldn't take that job on a bet. He just liked to tweak the guy.

Captain Bronson looked up from his ever present computer monitor, "What do you have Jack?"

Jack slid the bills and letter across the desk "Somebody out there thinks they found a counterfeiter." The captain looked closely at the letter but glanced at the bills saying nothing. He had no background in bad bills so he just took Jack's word. Jack waited in the guest chair while Captain Bronson read and re-read the letter, just as Jack had done.

"It looks like we have a concerned citizen, alright. No name, no contact, no salient information. What do you propose we do with this?" Bronson was patronizing, wanting his most irritating and oldest employee to go away as he held the letter at arm's length and pushed it towards Jack's side of the desk. Captain Bronson was not one to jump at investigations that did not involve computers. He was a true white collar kind of guy and wanted his department to provide the information to send the FBI or the Secret Service into the field.

"I guess somebody ought to mosey on down there to take a look" Jack said with a bit of a southern drawl. He enjoyed taunting his captain then continued a bit more seriously "The bakery truck is our only lead. It does make you wonder about the timing. I need to go out there to see if I can get some bills of my own and stake out the truck. At least I can verify what this guy said in the letter and get more information for the FBI." Now Jack was overtly managing the captain to let him get out there one last time.

"We can just turn this over to the FBI" Bronson said. "They are the field operation."

"But Captain, we are the investigative branch of law enforcement and wouldn't you think turning over an investigation to someone else will send the wrong message? This does seem to be our rice bowl." Jack was trying hard to pull any bureaucratic string he could.

Bronson mulled it over for a few moments before responding. "Jack, we investigate from here now. There's not much that happens without an electronic signature and we'll find it. That's what we do."

"As true as that is boss, we don't know yet if there is anything to investigate. This could all be a hoax" Jack offered. "Don't you think it would be prudent to verify at least part of this before sending the geeks on a wild goose chase?" Jack winced as he let out the geek comment. He didn't want to tweak the boss too hard.

Bronson seemed to not notice the comment but did consider the options before responding "Alright, no cowboy stuff. You're not a swat team and I don't want to read about it in the papers" Bronson said with a stern, no nonsense demeanor. "You are to go and observe without making contact. No contact," he emphasized "Do you understand?"

"Sure thing cap" Jack politely replied. He did, after all, want to go out into the field again without antagonizing Bronson any more than he had to. "I'll head out now and spend the night in a motel in town. I want to see if there's anything to the delivery truck part of this."

### CHAPTER 15

THE CAVALRY

Special agent Jack Hudson of the White Collar Crimes Unit sat comfortably in his aging Ford Crown Victoria, discreetly parked behind the Watonaka Indian Casino to keep an eye on the back service entrance. He was reliving his old life of being a field agent, being out on the road, gathering evidence and observing human behavior up close. The life of a special agent today was one of being a cubicle detective searching paper trails through data bases and internet archives. Not for Jack Hudson, he murmured to the dark dashboard of the car, he's a real detective and if the suits in charge of The Unit didn't appreciate him then to hell with them.

Jack didn't dwell on the changes in the Unit or on his career's twilight years. He was just letting his mind wander to pass the time while he watched the rear door for movement. He caught the crack of light around the door and saw it open slowly to allow a head to peek out into the darkness. The head looked left and right then slipped back inside closing the door behind. Well, Jack thought, there ought to be somebody outside and there isn't. It must be show time and somebody is late.

Jack slumped down a bit in the seat to make a smaller silhouette just as the bakery delivery van drove around the building at 10:12pm. The Concerned Citizen was right on and the driver was a bit behind schedule. The driver did back the van up to the rear loading door of the building and walk around to knock. The fellow inside opened the door and Jack witnessed a brief heated argument in the spill of light before the inside guy went back inside and the driver propped the rear van door open. They both proceeded to carry shoebox sized packages quickly between the interior of the building and the van. Jack guessed there were a two dozen of the bundles. They finished and the driver drove back out the way he came in. Elapsed time was eight minutes, Jack noted in his tiny notebook and followed the van through the parking lot to the highway in sedate undercover pursuit of the van.

The delivery van pulled into the rear parking lot of what looked like an office building and the driver reversed the process Jack had just witnessed behind the casino. The bundles went into the office building but the assistant this time was a middle aged office type in shirtsleeves and a loose tie. Jack watched from the darkness a short distance away, bemused at the observational skills of the Concerned Citizen because he too could see the oddity of it all. A bakery delivery to an office building in the late evening coming from a casino was not exactly a common occurrence and as far as the hit parade of odd things went, it was high on the list.

Jack continued to stare at the last place the tail lights of the van could be seen as he contemplated the import of his current findings. Nothing. There was nothing obvious or subtle he could dredge up that would legitimately explain what he had just witnessed. That was all he could do for the night and tomorrow was casino day for him but just now he was interested in filling the void created by missing his dinner.

He drove around the way he came in and slowly cruised in front of the office building. It had a modestly lettered sign on the front that proclaimed "Davies and Wix" but Jack didn't get a sense of what might be the purpose. It could be anything from an accounting firm to the farm co-op and was most certainly just an office, not a bakery, warehouse or restaurant. At the thought of a restaurant, Jack reminded himself he was hungry and headed to the diner he passed on the main street.

Jack Hudson, detective on assignment, ambled into the diner and sat at the counter next to the only other person in the place, a thinner guy than Jack, maybe twenty years younger and a working type. Locals are usually affable and talkative and Jack wanted to get a bit of the local vibe.

"Pretty quiet in here" Jack said "I'm glad they're open, I'm hungry." He knew that to get any information he had to give first and the more he gave, the better return. "I'm just down from the capitol and missed dinner, is this place any good?"

"This is the best place that's open" the stranger said with a hint of a smile.

Jack ordered a coffee and said "It's the only place open, huh?"

The local grinned and said "How perceptive of you sir, are you sure you just got into town?" The waitress took Jack's order, a club sandwich, and went into the back. Maybe the cook was napping and the waitress went to wake him.

Jack settled into his coffee and after a moment casually remarked "There isn't much going on here at night is there. It looks like the town closed up a while ago."

"Yeah, all the action is at the casino down the road. You passed it getting off the highway on the way in" the stranger said. "Other than that place" the description trailed off into a shrug. Jack nodded knowingly and they both sipped their coffees.

After a moment, Jack inquired "I saw a light on and some delivery activity at a place down the block, Davies and Wix it said on the sign. What do they do that requires late night deliveries?"

The stranger stroked his chin gathering information in his mind and after his thinking pause said "It is a law and accounting operation best I know. Property development and corporate stuff, I've heard. They don't deal much with lowly townsfolk" he emphasized the word lowly, "and you don't see much traffic there day or night."

Now Jack rubbed his chin. This fellow had some of the local information and Jack wanted to dig as far as he could. It was a slim chance that any of this was connected to the currency, but there were thinner threads that have paid off in the past. And besides, Jack thought, he was out in the field, chasing leads and trying to put some kind of story together just like the old days. He was in his element and may actually need the research geeks back at his office. This could not be better. All he had to do was to convince the captain that his geeks were the first line in the investigation and he, Jack, could stay out here without much notice. He realized he was ignoring his sandwich and shook off his daydream.

"So what do you do around here?" Jack asked as he chewed.

"I've just come in to town a while ago. I do odd jobs and handyman stuff, and then move on. I don't like to stay in one place too long."

Jack looked over at his companion and sized him up critically. He said was a drifter but did look personable and well kept. Probably not a criminal type and did fit in to what a local would look like. No alarms were set off in his head and his detective intuition told him there was no problem here.

"That's interesting, how long have you been on the road?"

"It's' been a while but I like it so far. When I get tired of it or find a place that suits me I'll stop, but for now, I'm okay just to wander." They lapsed into silence for a moment.

Jack was finishing up and got what he needed. He put some bills on the counter with a generous tip and said "Maybe I'll see you around, my name's Jack Hudson." He held out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you," the stranger said grasping Jack's hand, "My name's Wheeler." Jack ambled out of the diner and Wheeler stared at nothing over his coffee cup.

There was more to be done, but for Wheeler it was still hazy. This meeting just completed with Jack Hudson was part of what he was moved to do and it was an important step, but there was more. Wheeler felt that the forces beyond his awareness were bigger than he was used to and he felt the need to pay particular attention this time to his inner senses. Usually he felt a gentle wave coming when he was setting up the groundwork for a resolution, which nudged him into meeting someone or doing some modest task like he had been doing with Alice and Bob. Then the wave washed over the offenders and swept them away.

This time, Wheeler had more of a sense of urgency and what was coming had the sensory rumble of an avalanche and the calm of the eye of a storm mixed together. The forces this time, Wheeler mused, have the power to slam somebody or something very flat and he had to make sure he and Alice and Bob were clear. He had to be careful.

Jack found a motel close to the casino by the time he finished his long, detailed phone message to his boss. He shouldn't talk on the phone and drive but his only risk was driving off the road or being hit by lightning, the lightning being more probable on the clear night. He tucked into the bed at the motel, planning his one man covert assault for tomorrow and he drifted off to sleep.

Wheeler finished his plans too and headed back to Alice and Bob. He had grown fond of Alice and looked forward to a reunion after their short separation. She had become more and more welcoming as the days unfolded and Wheeler had become more and more appreciative. It was lonely on the road and Alice added a dimension of intimacy that left Wheeler pondering the wisdom of his wandering, maybe it was time for him to consider something more permanent. Wheeler's mind wandered into these thoughts of companionship as his internal autopilot drove straight to the Keefer farm. This was enough for one day.

The night light was on downstairs and there was a dim glow coming from the hallway at the top of the stairs. Wheeler padded softly into the big farmhouse, following the light up to Alice's bedroom. She was in bed looking beautifully ruffled and inviting in her slumber and his breath caught. Wheeler quietly undressed and joined her, rousing her just enough to roll toward him.

"Mission accomplished?" She cooed as she drowsily lifted the covers to make room for him.

"Oh yeah" he said into her ear. "That was an easy one." They drifted off to sleep in a cozy, loose embrace.

### CHAPTER 16

SHOTS FIRED

Jack was running the third money switch at the casino. He arrived during the lunch rush to gain the most cover in the crowds and he was all but invisible. He "bought" a thousand dollars worth of chips from one cashier, wandered aimlessly around pretending to look for a table to play and then cashed out his chips at another cashier. Each time he requested hundred dollar bills, and each time he found a new coffee shop or bar to examine the bills in quiet. In three rounds of exchange he was pretty sure he had three bills that were fraudulent. He was finished exchanging but he was in a good position to watch the hallway that was posted 'Employees Only' so he just sipped more coffee and paid covert attention to see if he could spot anything abnormal. It was time to call the captain.

Jack updated Captain Bronson with the details about the bad bills he had in his possession and was surprised to find the captain unconcerned. Jack was confused.

"But sir," Jack retorted, remaining as formal as necessary to wheedle as much as he could out of the captain. "The bad money confirms the existence of counterfeiting. We need to get the FBI involved."

"Hold your horses, Jack. After I got the phone message you left last night I started the entire team researching the Watonaka Casino and the Davies and Wix connection." Jack calmed down to listen to the story, relieved that the captain at least acted on his information. "The team has dug into tax records, property records, registrations, licenses and bank records and has some rather entangling information.

"There is another player that came up in the records, a Walter Carter, that shares ownership of the casino with Davies and Wix. We looked into gaming requirements and the only justification for the existence of the casino is that it must be owned by the Indians and have relevance to reservation land." He paused, Jack did not respond because something was bothering him, so Bronson continued "The registrations filed before the casino was built state that Walter Carter is partially Indian blood, and his heritage is associated with the Watonaka tribe. The thing is, the Watonaka tribe does not exist and there is no record in the Bureau of Indian Affairs."

"Okay," Jack interjected "So the casino might be a fraud, what about the bad money?"

"I'll get to that. Let me fill you in on the rest of the story" Bronson responded. His delivery was getting more excited, hinting to Jack that the story could be quite deep.

"All of the registrations and declarations were filed by Davies and Wix to create the Watonaka tribe. Then, they developed a bare plot of useless land into a multi-million dollar casino using this Walter Carter as the legal figurehead and they established themselves as the operators of record. They are like contractors paid to manage the entire operation.

"Walter Carter secured a large construction loan, facilitated by Davies and Wix, and he does show up prominently as the owner of record, but the operations contract stipulates he receive profits after the operations costs have been satisfied. The operators of record are Davies and Wix, so he has to get his money from Davies and Wix." Bronson paused to take a breath and left an opening for Jack.

"Well cap, it looks like a problem for the Indian Affairs or the Gaming Commission, not us. We could just throw in the bad bills and toss them the whole thing." Jack was seeing the end of his investigative romp except something still bothered him and he wanted t make sure. "You're not saying this is the end are you Captain?"

"No, we're not quite done" the captain continued. "A casino of that size should take in about million dollars a week and net 20% or so after expenses. The tax records for all of them and the corporate disclosure documents indicate the casino is barely breaking even. There is no profit and Mr. Carter is getting nothing. Now it gets good" Bronson was sounding like an excited schoolboy and Jack's interest was piqued.

"Walter Carter has a balloon payment due on the note used to build the casino and the bank is worried he will default. They can't foreclose and take it back because of the Indian ownership requirement. They can't own it, all they could do is take it over and close it down" Bronson paused to gather his thoughts. Jack was barely keeping the thread of the story but was amazed the computer geeks had gotten so much information in only half a day. In his era, this would have taken weeks or months.

"Davies and Wix have a huge mall project going upstate that is being financed by a confidential investor that provides a million dollars every month or two. It is enough to keep the construction going at an even pace and matches the skim coming from the casino. So far we have fraud, money laundering and tax evasion and those are all on our list."

Jack's head was swimming with the basket of snakes that had just been opened. He could see now that the counterfeit money was almost irrelevant, but just then, an inspiration hit him. "That's it, the Bills! I've got a few of the bad bills so they are still circulating at the casino." Now Jack was the excited schoolboy, "Those bills that were mailed to the office came in an envelope from the Casino and the letterhead on the page inside had Carter's name" They both went silent for a few heartbeats, thinking.

It was Bronson that broke the silence, "There's another player. Carter would never send us bills that came out his own casino."

"He didn't know, he doesn't know" Jack said softly. "Somebody used his stationary and a casino envelope. There's an insider."

"Yeah, so what?" the captain snorted. "The counterfeit money is most assuredly an unfortunate coincidence for somebody. We will address the casino first and then if there is still a trail to follow, turn the money problem over to the Secret Service afterward so they won't disturb our investigation."

"No captain, that's not what I mean" Jack said. "We can use the counterfeit bills to track the cash flow out of the casino. The bricks I saw being delivered by the bakery truck are most certainly the cash going out the back door, literally. That money has to get laundered somehow and delivered to the mall project as if it were coming from the confidential investor." The phone went quiet while the captain pondered Jack's new view point. They were pretty sure they had the right of it but they did not know for sure how the money actually got to the mall project.

"You might be on to something there," the captain responded. "What do you have in mind?"

"Here's what we need to do, captain" Jack answered and proceeded to lay out his plan. "And I'll need full retired cop credentials, you know, good conduct, retirement dates and a short job history of security work."

At just that moment, Wheeler popped his head up nearly smashing it on the frame of the manure spreader he was working on at Bob's shop, and looked around like a ground hog checking for shadows. Bob didn't notice as Wheeler's scan slowed down and he was able to process the feeling that had alerted him. There was a disturbance Wheeler had just perceived that was a bit different than the avalanche he had been tracking. It was similar but the approach angle was from a new quadrant. Wheeler sensed its approach and its character, noting obvious differences but also similarities in strength, and this was a big one.

Wheeler didn't realize he was staring out into space as Bob said "Hey Wheeler, earth to Wheeler. Are you in there?"

Wheeler grinned and replied "Oh yeah, I guess I just zoned out. Something distracted me. Got any coffee left?" He tried to sidetrack Bob but Bob would not let it go.

Bob poured coffee for them and joined Wheeler at the table, "So what's got your feathers all fluffed? You don't pop your head up like that because you forgot to torque a bolt, what gives?"

Wheeler sighed, realizing he could not hide from Bob, and said "Well, our little scheme is gaining traction. There is a new player in the game and he's a big one." Wheeler stopped to sip and Bob looked at him intently peering over the edge of his own cup.

"Can you tell which team they're on or is this a new team?"

"From the feel, I think it's a new team. Not a new set of locals, but an old set of outsiders that are not from around here. They have done this before and they're slick." Wheeler didn't realize the significance of this until he said it. He retreated into connect-the-dots mode and Bob tried to put the information into some order as well. They both made it make sense at the same time and looked at each other.

Bob spoke first "Do you think it's the cops or even the Feds?"

Wheeler hesitated, looking pensive "It almost has to be. I don't know which one, but I did send a letter with some of the bills to the White Collar Crime Unit. It's probably them."

Bob added "Or somebody bigger."

They drank their coffee in silence, pondering the facts they knew and tried to make predictions into the future. What would the next move be? Walt Carter was feeling pressure of the calendar and may do something even more desperate. Davies and Wix had no idea that anybody was on to them, so they were not likely to step into action and Calvin T. Boone, the phony oilman, wasn't needed at the moment. The only thing that Wheeler could sense was the coming clash of someone and somewhere. What he had to look for was where he and the Keefers should be positioned for the next round. It seemed quiet until the phone rang in the shop.

"Keefer Fab" Bob answered into the phone.

"Bob, get over here quick" Alice breathlessly screamed into the phone, "Stevie just pulled up out front!"

"On my way" Bob barked and slammed the receiver down. He turned to Wheeler and said "Let's go, I'll explain on the way." They ran through the shop, slammed the door and hopped into Bob's truck and sped off to the farmhouse.

Bob pulled the truck into the driveway and skidded to a stop beside Stevie's black truck. It was parked a bit crooked and the driver's door was open showing the dash lights on but the engine was not running. Bob and Wheeler dashed past it into the back door of the house that led to the kitchen, which was also standing open. They both felt a moment of apprehension as they rushed inside bracing for some kind of confrontation. What they saw in the kitchen stopped them cold in their tracks.

Stevie was lying on his back in the middle of the kitchen floor with a trickle of blood seeping through his hair above his left temple. Alice was slumped over the table looking like she had just run two marathons. She was loosely holding a half size baseball bat that was probably a kid's model.

She looked them over and developed a wry grin and said "Fat load of good you guys are when a woman needs a man around." She waggled the bat as if testing it for balance.

Bob and Wheeler exhaled in unison as they surveyed the scene more carefully. Bob said "What in the world happened here? Are you okay?"

"Well" Alice began as the sirens could be heard in the distance. Then she changed direction "Let's wait for the cops and I'll tell you the entire whole story at the same time. I'm fine though, just a bit rattled, but I'm fine. He didn't get anywhere with me but he was going to try. He was loud, belligerent and drunk."

"I'll get you some water" Bob said as he reached for a glass next to the sink. The police pulled into the drive and stormed the house from the back, startling the three of them into immobility. The two officers surveyed the scene and quickly realized there was no threat. Bob slowly handed Alice the water.

The lead officer with a name Brown on his badge asked to the room at large "What happened here, is everybody okay?" He did see Stevie out cold on the floor as he and his partner carefully entered the kitchen.

Alice responded "Stevie here" she gestured at the body on the floor "stormed in when I was alone and demanded that I come back to him, that I was his property and I had no right to dump him. He was drunk and came for me with both arms outstretched and I cold cocked him before he could get to me." Alice lifted the short bat to show Officer Brown. Officer Brown's partner stayed back at the doorway to the kitchen and was quietly talking on the radio calling dispatch with the status.

Officer Brown turned his attention to Alice "Did he have any reason to think his advance would be received? How long has it been since you 'separated'"? He was trying to get the true story to jot down in his small notebook.

"It has been about two months and I have made it clear to him repeatedly that it was over. I told him don't call me, don't talk to me, just leave me alone." She drank some water to calm herself. She was having a bit of a relapse, her strong, confident demeanor starting to crack.

Officer Brown leaned down to check on Stevie. He was breathing okay and did smell like he had been drinking, so the story seemed to check out.

"What is this guy's full name?" He asked looking over to Alice.

"He is Steve Carter, he lives around here" Alice said.

He stood up and looked at Bob then Wheeler "Who are you two?" He pulled up his pad to take notes.

Bob responded "I am Alice's brother Bob Keefer and this is Wheeler, my helper down at the shop. Alice called me when Stevie pulled up to the house and we got here just before you did." Officer Brown was making notes and didn't look up for a moment.

"Do you live here too?"

"I do and Wheeler is staying here for a while too."

"Has Steve ever done anything like this before?" Bob, Alice and Wheeler looked at each other, measuring the faces and replaying the suspicions they all shared about Old Glorys and the late night truck raid that were most certainly Steve. Officer Brown looked expectantly at the three of them wondering at the hesitation. The lull in the questioning was interrupted by a car pulling into the driveway and the other officer going out to meet it. It was the paramedic unit of the fire department.

The two medicos crowded into the kitchen with their medical kits and spread them out on either side of Stevie. The young man leaned in to take a close look at him and his young attractive partner opened her kit and rummaged around for supplies. The original group pressed over toward the sink to continue the questioning.

"Now" Officer Brown continued "has he done anything like this before?"

The three of them nodded their agreement and Alice told him about the suspected bombing of the antique shop and the late night, failed raid at the house and concluded with her frustration in convincing Stevie to leave her alone. She was shaken a bit by reliving the sordid details, but did finish with some dignity. Steve moaned from the kitchen floor and started coming around, attracting the attention of everyone in the room.

"Do you want to press charges, ma'am?"

"Yes please" Alice said with a most un-ladylike grin.

### CHAPTER 17

THE CALM

Alice held her coffee in both hands, savoring the warmth. There was a hint of light coming in the kitchen window but was only evident because she had the lights off. It was not dawn yet and the house was quiet. She was normally an early riser and took her first coffee in quiet solitude, using the time to think and plan.

She had softly padded out of her bedroom and left Wheeler in her bed, not waking him. He was a bright spot in her life now but he was just a reminder that she could be happy. There was probably not anything long term to be had with him but he was, what was he? He was certainly a grand distraction, she mused, but would he stay with her? It was unlikely and she had no real expectations. No, he was a passing light in her life, placed at this time to illuminate parts of her that had been dark for some time that needed to be lit up. Thank you Wheeler, whoever you really are.

Alice' thoughts wandered to what life had placed before her right now. She didn't really lament the loss of Old Glorys, it was her mother's passion, not hers. The Insurance settlement was on the way and could be used to rebuild or build something that was really her own but Alice wondered in this pre-dawn haze, what would that be? What would her passion be if she were to use the money to plant a root of her own choosing? She let the thought settle as she sipped her coffee. With the whole world at her disposal, what should she pick and choose? At least Stevie the pea-brain was occupied with the police and might just get the hint now, and leave her alone. Good riddance.

She mused over the schemes that Wheeler has started with the casino, with Davies and Wix and even Walt Carter. What an amazing and elaborate development for some outcome that she couldn't even guess. It seemed to be working but to what end, she had no idea. Walt had been a difficult neighbor certainly, and the water theft was a serious problem. The oil scheme Wheeler started would only delay some outcome that had to end up without any oil and without any water. Walt was going to be livid at least and may blow his gaskets in their direction. She hoped not.

Alice poured more coffee as the sky started to give way to morning. She felt she was giving way to another day, another opportunity and she let her natural optimism gain footing in her mind. Yes, she would use today to make her own plans and see about starting a new life for herself.

~~***~~

"Good morning, Watonaka Casino, how may I direct your call?" the young chipper voice said with way too much enthusiasm for six o'clock in the morning.

Jack Hudson replied into his cell phone "I would like to speak to the morning manager please." He hoped his voice would get the first usage fuzzballs out before the manager came on the line.

"One moment please." The pretty voice was replaced with Musak that gave Jack a chance to plan for his first coffee before meeting with the manager. It didn't take long.

"This is Tim Russell, how may I help you?" Jack noticed his even delivery and matter of fact tone.

"Good morning, my name is Jack Hudson. I am an investigator sent down from Sacramento to do a partial audit to verify some items from last month's gaming report. Would you be able to meet me in the front lobby in 15 minutes?" Jack didn't give Tim a chance to interrupt.

"Well certainly, Mr. Hudson" he stammered slightly. "Do I need to alert my accounting department? There is nobody in the office at this hour."

"That really won't be necessary, Mr. Russell. This will not be an in depth audit, it is just a spot check. I'll see you in 15 minutes." Jack hung up without letting Russell respond. Jack did want this to be abrupt. Now for the coffee.

Jack walked out one of the side entrances and put his empty cup in the trash and felt a bit more awake. He made a mental promise to get a proper breakfast when he was finished. He entered the main lobby right at 6:30 and saw a well groomed, medium build man in a tailored suit standing next to a nervous older man, fidgeting with a clipboard.

Jack reached out his hand "Hi, I'm Jack Hudson."

"Good morning, I am Tim Russell, the night manager and this is Greg Sandy, my account manager."

Handshakes completed, Jack asked "Is there somewhere we could go that is a bit more private?"

"Certainly, this way" and Tim led them to the Employees Only hallway he had seen previously and into a conference room.

Jack pulled out his credentials and said "I am with the White Collar Crime Unit and I am here to verify your cash on hand." Jack could be a bulldozer when he wanted to be. He continued "I know this is irregular, but if you would call the White Collar Crime Unit and ask for the Director, Captain Bronson, he will verify my credentials."

Tim Russell's concern was relieved a bit as he realized he would at least have a fig leaf of assurance that this guy in his conference room was not a crook. He had just been asked to open up his vaults and was not comfortable displaying the cash to anyone.

"Just a moment please" Russell said as he left the room. Poor Greg's panic was rising and his fidgeting had not abated. He was not a front man accustomed to dealing with the public by any means, and to be trapped in a closed room with a fed was more than he could take. Jack felt sorry for him.

"So tell me, Greg was it?" Greg nodded, unable to speak. "Yes, Greg. Can you tell me what you do here?" Jack was using his most gentle demeanor usually reserved for kids at a crime scene.

"Wwwell, I k-keep track of the money." He was looking at the conference table like there were coins under the varnish.

"Excellent, you are just the person I am going to need to help me. Are you willing to help me?"

"I guess so" Greg said, calming down a bit. "What do you want me to do?"

"All we are going to do is count the money that is in the casino." Jack paused to let the request sink in.

Greg looked up from his table search in a panic and asked "All of the money? In the whole casino? There's a lot of it out on the floor going back and forth to the cashiers. Do you want to count it all? We'll have to shut it down!" Greg started panting at the prospect of shutting down the whole casino.

"Oh no, we won't have to shut down the casino." Jack said in his best reassuring tone. "Don't the cashiers count the drawers at every shift change? We could take them at their word and not check. We could just copy their tally, couldn't we?"

Greg was noticeably relieved and retreated into himself to ponder the process. Good, Jack thought, he is the one that would help and he would know what to count. He was too nervous to be part of any scheme to hide money and he would probably explode trying to keep any secret.

Tim Russell rejoined them in the conference room "It looks like you check out Mr. Hudson. How can we help you?"

"Very good, Mr. Russell. What I would like to do is count the cash that you have on hand here in the casino." Russell showed a more dignified version of Greg's shocked expression as his mind spun through the various degrees of disruption this could cause in the casino.

Jack forestalled the question "We can take the cashier's tally from the shift change and not go out on the floor. I am willing to take their sheets and just count the vault and any other storage you have behind the scenes." Jack had watched the hallway the other day and convinced himself the only path for the money was down the end of the hallway then left. "What I want from you Mr. Russell is access to the vaults you have and we can get started."

"I just have to make a call and we can go" Tim Russell said.

"Excuse me Mr. Russell, but I can't let you alert anyone to our plans, it must be an accurate count" Jack said in a firm voice.

"Certainly, Mr. Hudson, I would like to call security to escort you to the vault and remain while you are in there. We have a strict policy prohibiting individual people from having access alone. And, since you are not an employee, I must insist that our security people be present. They will not intrude."

"Very well" Jack said evenly as he relaxed a bit. "I have just one more request. May I borrow Mr. Sandy here to help me with the count and collect the cashier forms?"

"Most certainly" Russell said, standing up from the conference table. "It is his area you will be investigating. I'm sure he will be an attentive assistant." They were joined by a pair of large, stern faced security personnel in the hallway and they all walked away from the noise of the casino down the hall.

They turned left at the end on the hallway that could be seen from the casino and continued a fair distance to an unmarked side door toward the end and all entered in single file into a small lobby with a reception counter manned by an older, uniformed security guard. The woman behind the counter looked bored but at least she was awake.

"Good morning Sylvia," Tim Russell began, "Mr. Hudson is going to accompany Mr. Sandy here into the vault and they are not to bring anything out except the clipboard" he motioned at Greg "and the papers they bring in."

"Yes sir" Sylvia replied as she turned the register around on the counter. Greg stepped forward to sign in and handed the pen to Jack to do the same.

Russell turned to Greg and said "Let me know when you are finished and I will walk Mr. Hudson out." He turned and left without waiting for an answer. Jack followed Greg through a rear door that Sylvia opened with an electric button and they were followed by the two silent security escorts. Jack noted that they were half his age and twice his size and seemed to have expressions that screamed 'no funny business.' Jack wasn't tempted.

The two of them entered the solid steel vault door and the two escorts stayed in the anteroom. With no fanfare, Greg pulled down a tray from the lower shelf closest to the door and said "We'll start here. This is my normal routine when I count the vault by myself." He put the tray down on the table in the center of the vault and they began. Jack did not impede the progress and mostly watched as Greg fed the bills through an electronic counting machine. Jack realized that the machine they were using was one of the cheaper models that had no counterfeit detectors, so the bad bills would go through undetected. At least they had a bill counter.

As the bills flew through the counting machine, Jack got into the rhythm of pulling money trays off the shelves and replacing them when Greg finished. There were a lot of trays but they did finish in about an hour. Greg kept a tally on his clipboard and showed it to Jack.

"Is this about the normal amount in your count?" jack inquired with a nonchalant tone to his voice as he looked at the column of numbers.

"This is about right" Greg answered, "Sometimes there is a bit more when there is a special event like a Poker Competition, but other than that, this is normal. Would you like to go with me to get the tally sheets now?" Greg's jitters had all but subsided now that he was surrounded by his comfortable money. He did belong hidden away in the vault and he seemed to like it.

"That would be good but it would be less disruptive if you were to go alone. I presume you do that sort of thing anyway?" Jack was pretending to be proper and respectful to the operation of the casino, but he really just wanted another coffee.

"Well sure, but don't you want to verify something. I don't know, watch maybe?" Greg was starting to fidget. Jack was more sure now that Greg couldn't be part of anything even suspicious.

"No Greg, you go and I'll just wait in the outer room, maybe get a coffee" he suggested, hoping Greg would get the hint.

"Sure, the security boys will take you down to the break room" Greg said, leading Jack out of the vault into the anteroom to the security guards. Greg led the procession out the way they came in and the two burly guards silently followed Jack two doors down, through an unmarked door into a bland, bare room with a coffee pot on a counter and plastic chairs and table in the center of the room. Jack helped himself to all of it and settled comfortably at the table to think and plan. He had the clipboard and mentally added the column of figures in his head, sort of. He did not want the count that Greg would give him, he just wanted round numbers. His round count was just under four and a half million and he had no idea if that meant anything and he didn't care. He wanted the exercise to rattle up the food chain to try to start some kind of damage control and then find out who the big players were. It might work.

Greg joined him by the second cup of coffee and had gotten another clipboard with a tally of the cashiers filled out. This list amounted to about $200,000 and Greg proceeded to add both lists together while Jack watched. He handed the summary over and Jack noted only the total: $4.68 million. That would do nicely.

~~***~~

"Hello? Who is this? Do you know what time it is?" the groggy voice on the phone barked. It was barely past 7:30 in the morning.

"Good morning sir, I'm so sorry to bother you so early" the caller stammered over the intrusion, "This is Tim Russell, I'm the night manager at the casino." Tim was speeding up his delivery trying to minimize his risk of getting fired. "You asked me to call you immediately if there was unusual activity at the casino?" he pressed on without taking a breath.

"Hold on a minute Tim, let me turn on a light" Jim Wix said in a more normal tone. Tim tried not to hyperventilate into the telephone. "Okay" Wix said, "What's this about?"

"Well Mr. Wix, just after 6:00 this morning, a fellow named Jack Hudson from the White Collar Crime Unit up in Sacramento showed up and wanted to count the cash on hand. His credentials checked out, so I let him in to count."

"What the hell!! How could you just let him in and give him access to the vault!" Wix was clearly agitated and Tim started to shake a bit.

Tim reverted to stammering "I called the Unit in Sacramento and he checked out and I had my people with him every minute. He just counted and left." Tim hoped he could save his job, it paid fairly well.

Tim fidgeted while Wix paused on the phone, either thinking about what just happened or planning on how to kill Tim. After a few moments Wix came back on the line "You did okay Tim" Wix said almost casually. "Did Hudson say anything abnormal while he was there?"

"No Mr. Wix, he just counted and left. We have the normal amount of money so there was nothing to find."

"Thanks for the call Tim" Wix said and hung up abruptly, leaving Tim listening to the dial tone for a moment before realizing the call was over. Maybe he still had a job, he hoped.

Jim Wix lifted himself heavily out of bed and padded off to the bathroom to do the needful while deep in thought. Wix knew there was nothing to find at the casino, but a snooping Fed was a red-flag warning. Something was up and he knew for certain the threads he and Davies had dangling out all over the place could be pulled and land them both in jail. Maybe now was the time to pull the plug, he mused. He reconsidered, no, not yet. Possibly circle the wagons but not bail out. There was too much money involved. He had to call his partner, Vern Davies, right now.

The phone rang about five times. "Hel- " Jim cut him off. "Hey Vern, this is Jim. Wake up, we've got work to do."

### CHAPTER 18

COVERING

The technician in the van put his headphones down and stopped the recording. He saved the file on a secure backup drive aboard the van and started to compose a short email. He attached the file and sent it off via encrypted satellite link.

The computer on Captain Bronson's computer beeped and showed a blinking red check next to the new message. He was waiting for it but didn't think it would arrive so soon- 6:56 am.

The message read:

Central: Caller is Wix, receiver is Davies. Jess.

Bronson forwarded the email to the technical unit downstairs and replied to Jess.

Jess: Stay in the area for 24 hours. Meet Jack at the diner. Deliver the package. Central.

Bronson called Jack on his cell phone. "It worked. They're rattled."

"That's remarkable sir." Jack was so startled he actually used 'sir'. "I'm not ten minutes away from the casino and you guys already know?" Maybe I am too old for this, Jack thought but didn't mention anything to Bronson. "What did they say?"

"Not much. It's what they didn't say. They are meeting each other at the office right now. I don't think that's normal because they were both asleep. Other than that, nothing. Jess is meeting you at the diner in Eaton and he's bringing the papers. You were retired a year and a half ago from San Francisco PD. A few jobs since and all can be checked. They will ring here in the office."

"Okay Captain, but where do I go? Any Ideas?"

"We found too many links to a place called Century Concessions that just happens to be connected to Davies and Wix by tax and accounting records. It seems the boys do tax planning for a variety of businesses." Bronson sounded a bit too grandiose. Jack Hudson's old-time detective nose twitched just a bit.

"And why would this be relevant to the current case, Captain?"

"Well Jack, it seems that Century Concessions holds the contracts for all the concessions at the AT&T Park in San Francisco, the Levi's Center in Santa Clara and Raley Field in Sacramento. Any of those ring a bell for you?"

"Sure Captain. Football and baseball, but what's a Raley Field?"

"We wondered that too. That's a small stadium used for lower division games and an occasional college playoff game. Sacramento is the headquarters for Century Concessions and that seems a bit convenient for Davies and Wix. And it will be convenient for you too. Keep me posted."

### CHAPTER 19

QUIET

Bob and Wheeler had been up nearly two hours working on a manure spreader when Bob noticed Wheeler not moving. He just stared out with a ten mile gaze frozen in place. Bob had seen it before so he wasn't as surprised as he might have been. He put down his tools.

"Hey, Wheeler, you getting' a message from the ozone or something?" Bob couldn't help twitting him.

Wheeler blinked a few times, shook his head slightly and slowly came back like he was coming out of a nap. "Yeah, right here." He glanced to Bob. "What did you say? Did I miss something?"

"Oh nothing much, just a troop of naked girl scouts selling cookies."

Wheeler spun around to check the rear door, alarmed. He turned back to Bob about to say something and Bob interjected, "Gotcha." Bob couldn't hold it in for more than a moment and they both burst out laughing. Wheeler was only a bit embarrassed.

As it subsided down to chuckles, Wheeler got up and grabbed a shop rag, handing one to Bob. "Well boss, how about some coffee?"

"Sure, there's still a bit left, I'll check."

"Naw, not that stuff, I meant a genuine, store bought cup from a swank place. How about that?"

Bob looked a bit confused until he saw Wheeler's big grin, catching on to the subtle inference. "OK" he said slowly. "I'm guessing that swank place is the diner?"

"Yup" Wheeler said with a bigger grin as he headed toward the back door where the truck was parked.

~~***~~

Mid morning was not peak time for the diner so they had their pick of tables, only one was occupied. They sat toward the back to make the trip for the waitress shorter.

"Hey Bob, you guys in for an early lunch? The lunch special is not even up yet."

"No Shirley, we're just here for coffee, thanks." She scooped up two mugs and grabbed the pot on her way over to the table. She poured in a few smooth movements and she was gone.

They both sipped a bit and Bob started in "Alright Wheeler, we're here. What's the deal?" Wheeler seemed not to hear. He just gazed aimlessly over his mug. Bob waited him out.

"It's in here but not yet" he said quietly, hiding his lips behind the mug. "It's not here or he's not here or they're not here. I don't know, yet."

Wheeler straightened up and seemed to snap out of it. "When does the spreader need to be finished? Do we have a little time?"

Bob was getting used to Wheeler's quick conversational turns but he did experience whiplash occasionally. "I promised to be done with it by the end of the week" he said with a little hesitation. Then he picked up on Wheeler returning to normal. "We do have a trailer coming that should be finished by the end of the week as well." Bob was just filling in with chit chat as he realized Wheeler needed to be in the diner and appear normal.

"Is the trailer a big job?"

"No, it's just a cracked axle mount that needs to be re-welded. Just a couple of hours, I think."

Two men came into the diner just then and both Bob and Wheeler glanced to the front but returned to their work talk without anybody else noticing. "It's them" Wheeler said into his cup before sitting up normally to continue their chit chat.

One of the guys that came in was the investigator Wheeler met the other day at the diner and the other fellow was a younger man with his cap turned around. The curious difference did not fit any combination one would expect. The two chatted normally like they did know each other and proceeded to order breakfast or maybe brunch.

Wheeler and Bob couldn't hear anything but Wheeler had his senses peaked, trying to pull in an essence of what was going on. What he felt is a sense of certainty and security. He likened it to a soldier behind the wall just finishing the powder tamp, the musket ball pressed into place and the hammer pulled back ready for use. Locked and loaded as they said in a later era.

Shirley wandered by with the pot tipping it their direction with an unspoken offer. Wheeler caught her before the pot actually tipped "No thanks Shirley, we should be going. The boss is pushing to get stuff done today." He said it with a grin to Bob and Shirley chuckled, dropping the check on the table.

Bob was quiet until they cleared the diner, and then asked "Did you get anything useful?"

"I think so, but I'm not exactly sure what. The older guy in the rumpled suit was in here the other night. He said he was down from the capital, so he's probably on the trail of the money. The timing is good for that and the younger guy is reinforcement. They are building up the troop strength."

Bob looked pensive and asked "Does it mean anything?"

"Not really decisive but things are moving. Let's just get back to the shop and lay low, I feel like a bit of welding therapy."

Bob opened his mouth as if to say something but just shut it and shook his head. "You're a strange man Mr. Wheeler."

"So I've been told Mr. Keefer, so I've been told."

Bob rounded the entry to the back of the shop and nearly rear ended Walt Carter's SUV. Walt was leaning against the fender, casually glancing their way. His face turned anything but casual. They couldn't even get out of the truck before Walt stormed it.

"Wheeler, get out of the truck!" He shouted before getting near it.

### CHAPTER 20

STORM

Wheeler opened the door to get out as Walt Carter jerked it open and got right in Wheeler's face. "What do you think you're trying to pull?"

"Hold on Mr. Carter" Wheeler said lifting himself slowly to get out of the truck and not push any of Walt's buttons. "Just what is this all about?" Best not to admit to anything until you know the accusation, Wheeler thought.

"There is no Boone Oil or Boone Drilling or Boone anything. I checked all my sources and came up with nothing." Wheeler stayed quiet but smirked at what was probably Walt's personal Google search team. "So tell me Mr. Wheeler, what is the game here?"

"There's no game. Mr. Boone is a very private man and goes to great lengths to keep a very low profile. He is worth a lot of money."

"If he's worth so much money, why are you driving around in an ancient VW and working for Bob Keefer, for heaven sakes?" Walt still had his head of steam going but the pressure dropped just a bit.

"I don't work for Mr. Boone" Wheeler deadpanned. "I'm just a contractor for his exploration group. They give me locations, addresses or contacts, I go out and take core samples and send them back. That's all." His delivery was measured and smooth in a calm voice. He hoped it worked.

Walt just stared for a moment, visibly calming. He was turning over the information, probably trying to figure out how to be heavy handed and get his way in what had just become a bog. The guy was all wound up with nowhere to go.

"All right Mr. Wheeler, but let me warn you: If there are any irregularities or even hints of impropriety, I will hunt you down and make your life a living hell if you still have one to live. Good day!"

Walt was huffing as he turned on his heel and stomped over to his SUV. He flung the door open, got the truck going and had to drive back and forth a few times to extract the SUV from the tight quarters. He roared off when he was clear.

Bob and Wheeler had been holding back guffaws and could finally let loose, their mirth echoing off the walls to the driveway and the bay door to the shop.

They chuckled their way up to the bay door, Bob negotiating the entrance. Wheeler waited for the door to open fully and started to walk into the back of the shop. He froze at the doorway, not going in. Bob was a few steps into the shop when he realized Wheeler wasn't following. He turned back and started to say something when Wheeler said "Bob! Let's go!" Now it was Bob who froze. Wheeler continued "Right now and shut the door!" Bob started to go back out band picked up speed quickly.

"What the..." was all he could get out.

"Let's go and get the door shut" Wheeler urged. Bob dealt with the door and Wheeler continued "Into the VW and hurry."

They both jumped into the van and sped away as fast as the rumbly old thing could go. Wheeler screamed through the gears before Bob could get a word out. "Why are we doing this and where are we going?"

With a grim face and white knuckles on the steering wheel "Alice" is all he said. Bob's eyes got wide, but he stayed silent.

They roared up the drive to the old farmhouse, slid to a stop and bolted to the back kitchen door, slamming it open. Alice squeaked out a sharp "Hey! What's got you all riled up" as she faced them with a dish towel wiping her hands.

"Alice, are you okay?" Bob said between huffs and puffs.

"Sure, why not?" she replied quite calmly.

"Wheeler thought... and we..." Bob's response just trailed off to nothing. He looked at Alice for a moment more until he noticed her looking at Wheeler. He turned to look at Wheeler. Wheeler had his eyes squinted and was slowly rotating his head this way and that with a look that was both attentive and faraway. Nobody moved.

It was Wheeler that spoke "It's not time yet, we have to go." He turned and walked out with Bob following a few steps behind. "Hey, what's the deal now?" He was exasperated and getting peeved. Bob had only a hint of danger at the shop and now Wheeler was acting almost like a zombie.

Wheeler stopped and straightened up. When he turned back he had a normal expression and calm demeanor. "Oh yeah, sorry Bob. Get Alice out, would you please? We have to go."

"Hey Wheeler, look here." Bob said, now calming down a bit from the excitement. He grabbed Wheeler by the shoulders and turned him back to face the house "Let's just go back inside and grab a little lunch, it's time and I'm a little hungry. And you can explain to us just what the heck is going on."

Wheeler looked slowly at the house as if checking the paint before he answered "Sure" and into the kitchen they went.

"Well, what was that all about? You boys are giving me the jitters!" Alice said.

"How about some sandwiches and coffee, and Wheeler here can do a bit of explaining. I'll make a fresh pot" Bob said to try got get things back to normal.

Bob and Alice set about their tasks and Wheeler sat at the table alone, gathering his thoughts. Truth be told, he was trying to assemble the seemingly random facts into some kind of order with his new inner urges. Seeing Jack Hudson at the diner a while ago was what drew him in for coffee, but the meeting with the young guy only brought more questions. The whole thing was a hint, to show him there was movement in the playing field, but the scoreboard was still obscure.

Alice brought the sandwiches as the coffee pot bubbled in earnest. Bob joined them with a look to Wheeler that said "Talk or I'll hurt you buster." Bob was trying to be stern and it partially worked.

Wheeler began "We stirred up some kind of pot when we sent the fake bills to the Feds. It raised some interest way outside of our small town of Eaton and what I was just sensing was the positioning of the players with some kind of movement. Of who or what I don't know, but it seemed powerful and dangerous. It's just that we must be on guard to make sure it's not aimed here." He waved his arm vaguely across the kitchen. Silence ensued for a moment and he lifted the sandwich. "Hey, this is good. This is the meatloaf from last night, right?"

"Of course" Alice replied. "And a bit of scraping off the pantry floor, some particularly vibrant mold from the back of the fridge and some additional gray meat or cheese I found on the counter" she said, taking a bite of her own sandwich with a particularly smug, haughty expression.

"Huh?" Wheeler replied, sure he was missing something.

"Children, focus!" Bob cut in. "What I want to know is whether or not we are in danger. I must say, Wheeler, sometimes your insights give me the creeps." He looked over to Wheeler hoping for an answer.

Wheeler put his sandwich down, "The feelings I had were strongly indicating danger, but I was the one that jumped to the conclusion it was aimed here. Now, I don't think so. Whatever 'it' is, it's not here, but it's somewhere. Sorry, that sounds spacey even to me. Probably there's nothing to worry about."

The tension had completely dissipated as they all enjoyed a piece of last night's pie and more coffee, nobody wanted to get lunch over with. They all pitched in to clean up and Alice decided to stay at the farm for the rest of the day.

Wheeler and Bob stepped out of the back kitchen door and saw it at the same time. Out to the west, starting at the horizon, was a huge tower of black angry smoke, rising a few hundred feet in the air. It had to have been burning for a while it to be so big. It appeared large because it was within a mile of the house.

"Alice, call the fire department" Bob yelled, "the Carter farm is on fire!" Alice peeked out the door to see the smoke and disappeared back inside. Bob and Wheeler walked out toward the road to get a better look and Bob said "Black smoke like that means there is plenty of fuel and the fire is expanding. That place is going up like a cardboard box, there might not be much left." Bob turned toward the house and yelled "Come on out Alice, let's go take a look."

They piled into the VW and headed to the smoke as they heard the sirens in the distance. It only took a few minutes to get to the Carter house in time to see it completely engulfed in flames and smoke. The fire engines arrived shortly after and the firemen began the deliberate process of pulling hoses, connecting them to the pumper and putting on the rest of their helmets and jackets. There was no rush; there was not much to save except for the surrounding brush.

Alice, Bob and Wheeler huddled together out of the commotion of the firefighters behind the trucks as the captain walked over to them. "Do you all know anything about the fire? Did you see anything?" They related the story of the smoke and calling the fire department, but nothing more.

They all fell silent, watching the water spray uselessly over the building. Wheeler had the long/short stare going but nobody noticed. He was searching his inner and outer memory banks for some reason or purpose to all of it but the only shred that came to him was the realization that someone at Walt Carter's level wanted to teach him a lesson or punish him. They might have torched the house to try to get rid of Walt. No matter, someone was getting desperate, willing to use dangerous tactics to accomplish some end.

### CHAPTER 21

SPIES

Jack Hudson found the contact information for Century Concessions easily enough and made the first call from Eaton.

"Good afternoon, Century Concessions, how may I help you?" said the chipper operator.

"My name is Jack Hudson and I wonder if you could connect me with Mr. Davies or Mr. Wix please?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Hudson, they are both out of the office, may I ask what this is about?" she asked with an even tone and no hint of concern. She was playing the role of screener well.

"I would like to discuss a matter of security with one of them. I believe it will be of significant interest to them and will affect the smooth running of the company" Jack said, dangling the hook but not giving anything away.

"Hold on please, Mr. Hudson" she said and Jack got switched over to the Musak. He waited patiently and used the few moments it took to formulate his story.

The woman came back on the line "Mr. Hudson? I have Mr. Wix on the line." There were some clicks on the line followed by "Hello, this is Jim Wix, how can I help you?"

"Hello Mr. Wix, I am Jack Hudson. I have some knowledge of the workings of the concession business and as it happens, I may be able to provide for you some assistance with the smooth running of your company." Jack wanted his introduction to sound vaguely like a mob threat and had no way to know yet it would work. Jim Wix on the other end of the line had alarm bells going off in his head because he had schemes going that were precarious.

"What are you proposing here Mr. Hudson?" Jim Wix said a bit warily. That was the response Jack was hoping for.

"As it turns out Mr. Wix, I am recently retired from the San Francisco police department and I am discovering the retired life of luxury does not suit me all that well. My brother-in-law operates a concession business like yours in Orlando and I have helped him out from time to time with the security problems associated with handling large amounts of cash." Jack paused to allow Wix to respond and the pause was encouraging, he was probably turning over in fine points in his head.

Wix didn't respond quickly so Jack continued to make sure the pause didn't turn pregnant. "So Mr. Wix, if there are some services I might be able to perform occasionally or even arrange for money to be kept safe, I would be interested in meeting with you to talk it over." Jack did not want to give too much away at this point.

Jack waited him out this time and Jim Wix finally responded in a soft and deliberate tone "As it happens, I may have a job now and again that you may be able to help with. You say you are retired, does that mean you are not looking for benefits or full time work?"

"By no means do I want the full 40 hour thing. Oh no, I did that for 26 years and I've had enough of that. I'm just looking to dabble now and then to keep me from drinking too much."

"Alright Mr. Hudson, I am not in Sacramento now, where are you located?"

"I'm on my way to Sacramento to visit my daughter and the kids, let's see, I'm probably half way there from San Francisco." Jack rustled some papers to sound like maps.

"That's not terribly far. If you could swing down to Eaton, we could meet this afternoon. It's only an hour south of where you are. I'll give you the directions."

~~***~~

Jack Hudson, retired cop, man about town, was soon to be employed in a shady money laundering scheme. He almost laughed out loud. This is the undercover work he did early in his career but on steroids. He was headed inside, undercover. At least he didn't have any of the brashness of youth left to squash down but he did have a keen sense of appreciation of the risks now. They are palpable and serious.

He waited the appropriate amount of time and casually rolled his old ford up to the curb in front of the nondescript office building in downtown Eaton. He found the office in the back easily enough and went in. There was an empty desk in the lobby surrounded by four private office doors, one of which was open. "Hello?" Jack called softly, just as a fifty-ish office type came out of the door that was open.

"You must be Mr. Hudson, I'm Jim Wix" he said, holding out his hand to shake. Jack noted the weak handshake, pleased that this was not the muscle guy.

"Jack Hudson, Mr. Wix."

"Call me Jim. Come into the office, have a seat" Wix got right to it. "You say that you're retired now and looking for a little part time work?"

"Yes sir, er a Jim. Nothing too strenuous but a bit of entertainment to supplement my retirement would be nice."

"I do have a need for an additional person that would be a confidential position. Someone that would not show up on the books, and just help out on occasion. Is that something you would be amenable to?"

If Jack was reading this right, Wix was offering him an undercover job and was willing to hire an undercover guy to do it. He almost laughed. Jack got right to it as well. "If you are asking me to work for cash, off the books, sure. I don't want the paper trail either. I would like a simple deal."

"Good. Can you start today? Right now?"

"Sure, why not."

"I need you to help me load some boxes into the trunk of my car and run them up to Sacramento. We'll be back here by early evening" Wix stated with a bit of relief on his face. Jack realized this was the solution to the problem that Wix and Davies had to solve from the early morning phone call. Jack was pleased that he had turned on his phone for the interview to have Bronson listen in.

Sometime later, they pulled into the parking lot entrance of the Farmers Bank in not-quite downtown Sacramento. They carried the boxes into the commercial desk then moved them to a back room behind the offices, in the ante room in front of the vault.

Jack drifted toward the wall to play the role of the attentive and aloof guard as Wix and the bank employee unloaded stacks and stacks of bills out of the twelve boxes they brought in. The lack of discourse between the two suggested this procedure had been conducted before. The bundled bills were stacked at one end of the table and the bank employee pulled out a clipboard with a tally form clipped to it. Jack smirked at the exact duplicate of the clipboard used at the casino. It must have come from Bank Supplies-R-Us, he thought. He silently chided himself, Focus.

Jim Wix initialed each violet wrapper, pushed the bundle to the far end of the table to start a new pile and called the move to the bank employee. He noted on the clipboard and the process continued for nearly an hour. The final number was 223 bundles of $20 bills and 68 bundles of $100 bills. Jack didn't know how much the dollar count but he was sure it was more than he'd likely have in his retirement account when the real time came.

The forms were signed, deposit receipt filled out and they were back in the car headed south. Jack discreetly thumbed his phone off so there was no risk of unwanted beeps in the car. "Well Jack, that was your first day on the job, what do you think?" Jim said.

"It was not as exciting as it could have been, I rather like it that way" Jack replied.

"So do I. That is pretty typical of what I need you for. The business is mostly all cash so I will be calling you when it, you know, builds up."

"This should work out fine. I will need a bit of warning to drive over from San Francisco or Sacramento. I spend a bit of time with the family so I might be in either place" Jack said, in order to make sure Wix provided him with a convenient lead time to get the office involved.

They traveled mostly in silence and Jack didn't push. This was, after all, a boss to subordinate relationship and Jim Wix appeared to be a big boss. It gave Jack time to put pieces together. He noted that Wix did not use the services of an armored car company that was normal for big cash operations. He also noted the big cash came from the office in the small town of Eaton, far away from the concession operations. This was not surprising at all because Jack already knew where the cash came from.

Jim broke the silence as they pulled into town "I usually have to make a run like this every week or two. I will call you when I have the next one put together."

"Sounds fine to me, my schedule usually has openings" Jack said with a sly grin.

Jim stopped the car at the rear entrance of his office, took two $100 bills out of coat pocket and handed them to Jack. "This should cover you for today; I'll give you a call."

"That will do nicely, boss" Jack said, allowing his grin to go wide. He made his way to his old Ford and left.

### CHAPTER 22

THE CALM

Wheeler was helping clear off the dinner table in a fog because he was replaying the details that didn't make sense. The urge to get to the house to 'save' Alice, the fire that nearly leveled Walt's house and now the listless feeling of nothing to do or even pay attention to. With all the action of the past few days he wondered if the present lull was a hint of closure coming. That didn't seem likely because of all the loose ends. Nothing seemed to be coming together like his past involvements; this was a pause that felt like the players, whoever they really were, were in a huddle somewhere evaluating alternatives with no plan yet. That might be the case but Wheeler couldn't really tell.

"Hey Wheeler, do you want some pie?" Bob interrupted his reverie.

"Naw, I don't think so, thanks Bob. I think I'll go out and check a fence or feed a pig or something. Do you have any pigs?"

"Not really, but if you find one maybe we could breed him and start something." Bob enjoyed the jabs.

"Now don't you boys go planning something I have to feed or water. Maybe I should go with you to make sure you don't find any livestock" Alice said, entering in the jousting. Out they went, leaving Bob to tidy up the kitchen alone.

Alice and Wheeler walked in silence for a few moments, arm in arm like old friends, enjoying the stars, the cool evening breeze and the warmth of being close. Wheeler wanted to keep the relaxed mood so he started gently, "What do you really want to do now that Old Glory's is gone?"

Alice was mentally out in the vast spaces before them and it took a moment for her to answer "The insurance will cover the inventory so I have a bit of money for a fresh start. The antiques store was mother's passion but I don't think it's really mine. I like the business and the storefront part of it, you know, dealing with the customers and all that, but it was too slow for me." She paused and Wheeler waited as they continued to stroll.

"I can't imagine what it would be, but I would like something to do that is more energetic, more vibrant. Possibly another retail thing but I don't know. I am more of a front of the store person than a back room person."

"You're on to the trail of the next thing, right there. The best you can do is to tell the Universe how you want to feel, how you want to experience life and let the Universe work out the specifics. We just can't know what's possible because there are too many combinations out there. Just like the stars" he pointed up for effect. "There are so many people, activities and interactions that we just can't imagine it all much less evaluate them and choose." Wheeler could almost hear the wheels turning in Alice' head as they walked on.

"Does that mean my confusion is actually doing some good?"

"It's not really confusion. If you can pinpoint how you want to feel and what you want to experience, the Universe will drag in specific opportunities that will work out the details for you just that way. I call them candidates" Wheeler said, sounding for all the world like a college professor. Alice was paying rapt attention, squinting at Wheeler in the dark trying to puzzle it all out.

"Does that mean I can just tell the Universe I want to be happy, rich, beautiful, famous and entertained and it just, I don't know, goes poof and it shows up?"

"Well it's not quite like that but sort of" Wheeler said with a warm chuckle. "Just keep to how you want to feel and not what you want to get. The thoughts you have about it all have to be real for you and able to live in your head without creating a war inside. Look, it's easy to imagine being happy, you've already had that experience and you probably don't have any trouble replaying those past times when it was real for you. I just tell the Universe 'Gimme another one of those' and I drop it to let the Universe work it out."

"That sounds simple but I'm not sure how easy it will be. Just drop it huh?"

"Yup, that's it." Wheeler realized he was trying to piece together his random information into a complete picture of who, what, why and where. He decided to take his own suggestions and drop it. He and Alice headed back to the house without finding one pig.

~~***~~

Jack Hudson, undercover operative and resurrected detective, was back on the job. Well, his first job that got him into all of this undercover stuff. His real job as investigator had been ignored because he was having just too much darn fun out in the field.

He was just completing another night hiding out in the parking lot of the casino. He watched the bread van get loaded again and drive off again, just like clockwork. On these later surveillance shifts he didn't follow the van like he did the first time, he knew where it was going.

He stayed a few minutes to make sure all was quiet before leaving. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day so he just headed back to the hotel.

### CHAPTER 23

RUMBLES

The day lumbered by quietly. Bob and Wheeler repaired a pump and a trailer and Alice was working out details of the fire with the insurance company. Her car was burned so completely, it would probably be totaled, so that was easy. They wanted the inventory of the shop to estimate value, so Alice spent much of the time doing research on the Internet.

"Hey Bob" Wheeler called from across the shop "don't you think it's time you took your Employee of the Month out to lunch?"

"You haven't even been here a month" Bob said, barely looking up from the axle clamped to his fabrication table.

"That's what I mean, who else are you going to give the award to?"

Bob did look up then, shaking his head with a 'what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you' expression on his face. "Okay, would you call Alice and have her meet us? I'll be finished in a minute."

Lunch in town was at the only diner and they all arrived at nearly the same time and were seated immediately. They were all enjoying the Broccoli-Cheese soup with or without the sandwich when Wheeler leaned in a bit and said quietly "It's happening now or it's already happened, I can't tell."

Bob and Alice nodded slowly, not showing surprise. It was Alice that asked "Is there something we should be doing?"

"I don't think so. None of it is headed our way. I feels like a storm on the horizon, definitely close but over there, so all we can really do is stay alert. Alice, could you join us at the shop after lunch? It' not a big deal but you probably shouldn't be alone."

"I figured there was something up when you called me for lunch. I was afraid you wanted the truck and am not real keen on driving your rattletrap VW back to the house."

"Hey" Wheeler interrupted her, "that's my favorite VW."

"Yeah right. It was getting lonely at the house anyway so I brought my laptop and folders."

~~***~~

The real activities for the day had actually started an hour before the Farmer's Bank in Sacramento opened. The bank manager had just turned the lock on the front door when six men in dark suits got out of a black Suburban and surrounded him.

"Are you Arthur DeFlower, the manager here?"

Arthur spun around very surprised and squeaked "Yes, who are you?"

The lead man pulled out his leather cased badge and flipped it open. "I am Special Agent Waters of the US Secret Service. May we come into the bank?" Arthur inspected the badge closely and satisfied himself it was at least a good fake I.D.

Arthur led them into the lobby and locked the door behind them. They all followed him to his desk, watched him put down his case and he asked the lead man "What is this all about, gentlemen?"

Agent Waters responded "We have to come to understand that you took custody of a large amount of cash last night from a depositor named James Wix from Century Concessions."

"That is correct, I was the one that received the deposit. He routinely makes deposits of that nature."

"We would like to inspect the bills now." Agent Waters was all business. He said it reasonably but there was solid steel behind the words. No was not a possible response.

Arthur DeFlower was concerned but not overly so. He went about opening the vault and orchestrated the task for the somber group.

A few hours later, the same scenario was played out in the back vault room at the casino. An identical group of dark suited men performed the same inspection quietly, out of the view of the gambling patrons on the casino floor.

***~~~~***

Alice and Wheeler got up from the lunch table inside the diner to stretch as Bob settled the check. They saw the flash of the red light on top of the Sheriff's car whiz by the front window and was gone. Before they could say anything the buzz in the diner erupted.

"I wonder what that was," Alice said to nobody in particular.

"Let's go see" Wheeler replied. "This might be one of our missing pieces." They followed a small group of future gawkers out the front door of the diner on to the sidewalk. The Sheriff's car had stopped in front of the office building a few doors down the block and parked at a jaunty angle on the wrong side of the street. The red light was still blinking, the doors were open and there were no Sheriffs.

The crowd stayed a respectful distance and buzzed with "Who's in there", "What's happening" and "This is more excitement than we've ever had in Eaton." Alice, Bob and Wheeler stayed with the crowd to watch and hide at the same time.

It took a while but the wait was worth it. Two Sheriffs came out the front door with both Jim Wix and Vern Davies in tow. Both were handcuffed and both had their heads down. They were respectfully escorted to the back seat of the squad car, tucked in and the doors were shut. The deputies got in, turned off the red lights and drove off in the direction of the highway. After a few more moments' after-buzz, the crowd dispersed.

Back at the shop, Wheeler was in his thoughtful mode and started thinking out loud "We know Davies and Wix were into some shady stuff: the casino, Walt Carter's loan and we don't really know all of it. Maybe it's just the money that got them."

Bob was pouring them more coffee "I wonder where old Walt is? His house is gone and we haven't seen him. Do you think he's involved and going to jail?" He handed out steaming cups.

"Remember the water theft? If Walt was so desperate for money, probably for that loan, he has no farm to get a loan on now" Alice said, getting into the swing of it all. "Even if he has delusions of oil money, that's not going to work out too well for him. We made that all up."

"If his balloon payment is due on the loan now, who is he going to default to?" Bob said. "Davies and Wix held the note."

Wheeler responded "They will probably appoint some kind of Receiver to manage the company, collect and pay the obligations, that sort of thing. Walt will not get lost in the confusion." Wheeler did have an interest in this sort of thing after all. "So one way or the other, Walt is probably out of luck."

Alice continued the thread "With Walt and Davies and Wix 'indisposed' doesn't that mean Walt's loan is in default somebody will sell off the casino to pay the loan?"

"Not really" Wheeler replied. "That never really happens. It usually gets converted to a new loan for the new owner, the finances are re-shuffled, money gets bumped back and forth and the casino will probably continue with nobody even noticing."

Bob put in his jab "So all they have to do is search the horizon for a teepee, evict the Indian and lock him up in the casino office as the new owner."

They all three burst out in uncontrolled laughter. As crazy as that sounded it was not really crazier than any of the other details of the past few weeks. They needed the release and all enjoyed the moment.

Alice did stay at the shop for the afternoon and they drifted back to their individual tasks to salvage some productivity out of the day.

### CHAPTER 24

COMFORTS

There were no reported sightings of Walt Carter in town and if he was still around, he was laying really low. That was probably an easy task for him because he could not really go home, he had to find accommodations somewhere else.

The first information about what happened came from the Sacrament Bee in the Crime Spotters section. It reported that Wix and Davies were arrested in Eaton and were to be arraigned the following day for fraud and money laundering concerning the Watonaka Indian Casino. The bail amount was expected to be quite high.

Wheeler's foreboding of a coming storm had long since past and he was getting the urge to move on. This caper was not as dramatic as some of his past romps but it was satisfying just the same. The Keefers were out of any danger and the hazards to their health and well being were in jail. He did have a small bundle of neatly stacked $20's and $100's that would allow him a bit more freedom than he previously enjoyed and he was not really considering finding a place to settle down, but at least he didn't have to rush to find employment at the next stop. Maybe he would just put new tires on the VW to celebrate.

"Hey Wheeler" Bob grunted from across the shop. "You're not looking for any more bad guys hiding in the bushes out there are you? You got that far away look again."

Wheeler snapped out of it "Nope, just plain old daydreaming. You're not going to dock my pay are you?"

"I pay you? Really? What was I thinking" Bob said in mock exasperation. They both chuckled.

"How about some coffee and we'll discuss your pay cut" Bob said on his way to the coffee pot just as the phone rang. "Do the honors?" he said, pointing to the pot as he detoured over to the phone.

"Keefer Fab" Bob said into the phone.

"Hello, my name is Captain Bronson with the White Collar Crime Unit up in Sacramento. Is this Robert Keefer?"

"Yes it is" Bob said, his curiosity hitting screech levels.

"Do you have a sister named Alice?"

"Yes I do."

"I have a matter of some importance that I need to discuss with you. Would it be possible for you to meet me in my office in Sacramento as soon as possible?"

"Can you tell me what this is about?" Bob said. His curiosity was killing him now.

"I really do not want to go into details without both of you present. If that is a problem we could make other arrangements for a meeting. Eaton is not that far from Sacramento."

"No, I don't think that will be necessary. We could get up there this afternoon, by, oh" Bob checked his watch "2:00 o'clock. Would that be acceptable?"

"Yes, that would be fine."

"Captain Bronson, just one more thing. May I bring my assistant? Would that be a problem?"

"That will be acceptable" Bronson said smoothly. He gave Bob the address and travel information and hung up.

Bob joined Wheeler with the dazed look Wheeler usually carried.

"What was that all about?" Wheeler asked with a bit of concern.

Bob filled him in on the sparse details and called Alice. It seemed they had an appointment in Sacramento to make.

***~~~~***

They had little difficulty finding the building. It was probably the tallest one in the downtown area with a handy parking lot underground.

They announced their identities to the receptionist and she ushered them back to the correct office.

"Captain Bronson? The Keefers are here" she announced

The well-dressed man in a silk shirt and expensive looking tie rose from behind the massive desk and held out his hand "Glad you could make it. I am Captain Bronson." Introductions and seating ensued.

Joining them was an older man, a bit scruffy by comparison. Jack Hudson was the name. He and Wheeler took seats away from the desk. Both of them held back grins or any back slapping as they silently acknowledged their secret meeting a few days ago.

Bronson began "As you may be aware, there has been some amount of suspected criminal activity in Eaton and a Mr. Wix and a Mr. Davies have been arrested."

Bob and Alice confirmed what they read in the newspaper but didn't provide more.

"Related to that arrest" Bronson continued "is a complication has arisen concerning the Watonaka Indian Casino. Specifically, the owner of record was a Mr. Walt Carter. Do you know him, by the way?"

"Yes we do" Alice replied. "He is our nearest neighbor."

"Of course, Eaton is a small town" Bronson acknowledged. "Anyway, Mr. Carter seems to have no traceable connection to Indians, the tribe or anything related. In fact, the Watonaka tribe is neither registered nor listed with the Bureau of Indian Affairs." 'Ohs' and somber looks around the room responded to that bit of news.

"So what this means is that another tribe or someone with a verifiable connection to one must be found to legally keep the casino open" Captain Bronson concluded.

It was Bob that responded "There are folks in Eaton that think the casino should be closed. They are concerned that the unsavory patrons mixed into the quiet of our small town will ruin the place."

"Is that impression shared by you and your sister Mr. Keefer?" Bronson asked.

Alice and Bob exchanged looks and both shook their heads. Alice answered the question "Not really Captain. If anything, the town has gotten quieter. The rowdy types go to the casino for entertainment and leave us alone. It's really quite pleasant."

"That's good to know, because the opinions shared in Sacramento here do not want the casino to close. In fact it provides significant employment and no small contribution to the state tax roles."

Captain Bronson turned to Jack and said "May I have the folder Jack?"

"Sure Captain, it's right here" Jack replied formally and handed it over.

"We here in the White Collar Unit have applied our resources" Bronson said proudly "to find a suitable solution to this problem which is why I called you here today." He opened the folder and spooled out the story, referring to documents the rest of them could not see.

"Mr. Antonio Keefer landed in New York in 1834, immigrating to the United States from Ireland. He stayed in New York until 1837, when he went west, settling in the Kansas territory and started a potato farm and a family of two sons. When the stories of gold swept the country, he moved to California with the gold rush in 1850. Both of his sons got sick on the trip and died somewhere in the Nevada territory." The Captain was flopping pages while delivering the narrative. Bob and Alice leaned in without a clue where this was going.

"The next entry we have is a land dispute in 1869 between a Mr. Charles Johanssen and a Mr. Luis Keefer in what was to later become Placerville, north of Sacramento. The substance of the complaint was land rights, but noted in the court record is a comment about Mr. Keefer being too dark skinned to be a legal land owner, due to his obvious native appearance. The court did not respond. The inference we draw today is that this was the case, he was an indian and he was a descendant of sorts from Antonio."

Bob responded "How is that possible if Antonio had no heirs and if Luis was a new son, he would have been too young."

"We researched that too" said the Captain. "As it turns out, Indians of that period had no surnames, so they often took the names of the employer. In order to fit in to society they often took American first names as well. We are guessing that Antonio moved south and tried his hand again at potato farming and made a better go of it. He must have needed help so he hired locals that needed work, gave them lodging on the farm and ran it like a collective. Luis may have broken out on his own and become a potato farmer."

Captain Bronson went back to the narrative. "We can go back to the record. Luis had two sons and a daughter, Emile, Roberto and Mary. The records are scarce, but Emile shows up in 1879 as father to a son named Lazlo but no other siblings were found." Bronson looked up from the pages and said "There must have been some but we didn't find anything."

Bob and Alice were getting antsy but Bronson had his pace. Wheeler and Jack both knew because Jack had done some of the research and Wheeler just knew what was coming when Bronson started in on the family tree.

"Lazlo Keefer married in 1902 to a woman named Riva Turchaninov and had three children, Ivan, Anna, and Roberto." Bronson looked up from the folder with a twinkle in his eye. "You may recognize the name Ivan as your great grandfather, born in 1904."

Both Alice and Bob were speechless. They knew the name but knew nothing of the man or the history. Their grandfather Arthur Keefer had mentioned him and did say there were potato farmers in the family way back when but he had only heard the stories and didn't know much.

"The rest as they say is history" the Captain concluded. "I'm sure you know Arthur, your grandfather and of course Ernie, your father. This establishes you two as descendants of Indian blood and is verified by my department. Exactly which tribe, we don't know, but that isn't the real issue. We have made a request to the Bureau of Indian Affairs to research the exact tribes active in that part of California to name the tribes so we can nail down the details. Do you have questions?"

Both Bob and Alice were in a swirling fog of confusion, surprise, awe and wonder. This was more information than they thought was possible to retrieve, even if they were looking for it.

It was Bob that came out of it first "Does this mean that Alice and I are the Indians you're looking for to take over the casino."

"It does Mr. Keefer. We would like to first find out if you are amenable to some sort of arrangement concerning the Casino. Today if possible."

"Today?" Bob blurted out with astonished panic. "We have no experience running anything of that size, we have no idea how a casino works and we don't have anywhere near the resources to buy the thing." Bob was breathing pretty hard after his delivery and sat back in his chair to calm down.

"Easy Mr. Keefer. I know this is a lot to take in and I apologize for being so abrupt. We are not here to dump a problem on you two and say goodbye. We are only here to find out if you are willing to participate in solving our problem and stake a claim to your heritage."

Alice picked up on the shift before Bob did. "What exactly do you mean by participate in your solution" Alice said, warily "and what heritage do you mean?" In these circumstances, Alice became the hardliner. She was better at probing for answers than was Bob.

"Very good, Ms. Keefer. I would be disappointed if you didn't ask. You know the problem is one of ownership, the casino can only be owned by someone or a group having provable Indian heritage. That is you and Bob. If you do choose to claim the right, we will oversee the legal takeover of the casino with you and Bob as owners, provide you with a list of respectable and knowledgeable companies to manage the daily operations and we will recommend a few legitimate Law Offices from which you may choose legal and tax advice. What you will get in return is the not inconsiderable profits from the casino."

Alice and Bob were speechless. Again. The room was silent as everybody in the room stared at something inanimate to mull over what was just said. Bob was incredulous, Alice was looking for a flaw, Jack was smug, Bronson was hopeful and Wheeler was pleased beyond all measure.

"Would you two like a moment alone to confer? Possibly with your assistant?" Bronson said the word assistant with a sneer but nobody noticed.

"Sure, thanks" Bob said, still in a fog. The others filed out but Wheeler did stay.

Alice spoke first "Bob, we just won the lottery. I think."

"Maybe we just got sentenced to 40 years hard casino labor. Do they realize they will be giving that thing to a couple of shopkeepers? What do you think Wheeler?"

"Why not? With all the legal, accounting and management help what's the risk? Are either of you doing something better? Really better?" He did want to help them but slapping them might not help.

Alice and Bob looked at each other for a long moment. Alice said "Why not?"

Bob said "I'm in."

### CHAPTER 25

FINAL TALLY

They returned from Sacramento all talking at once, all the way back to Eaton. They were excited like school kids on the way to Disneyland and the trip seemed to only take a few moments. They decided to return to Eaton to enjoy some degree of normalcy while they could, because the upcoming days would be anything but normal.

Alice finished cooking the meatloaf that was planned and they enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the kitchen table.

"The way the Captain was talking" Bob said "he wants to get us into the operation fast. He seemed to turn into a used car salesman and the closer all in one."

Wheeler responded "He or his department is in the middle of a commercial operation and I'm not sure that's completely legal. The longer he's in that position the less likely it is he will be able to claim it's just a transfer job. He wants out."

Alice chimed in "He sure is doing it. After he made all the phone calls introducing us to the management company, the law firm and all, I didn't think we were ever going to get out of there. I was afraid he was going to call a moving company for us to empty the farm house here into a suite at the casino."

"That does bring up a valid point" said Bob, looking toward Alice. "Do you want to live at the casino? He said there is an owner's suite."

"We don't even know if it's got more than one bedroom" she glanced to Wheeler. "How would you like to spend some wild times with the owner of a casino?"

Wheeler did not respond nor could he look at them. He paused for a long moment trying to speak but nothing happened. "You are going to stay with us for a while to get this all settled, aren't you?" she said to Wheeler. "Aren't you?" she said with concern in her voice.

Wheeler couldn't say anything through the tangle of emotions. The pull of his next adventure and his affinity for Alice were making rips in his ability to think clearly. His mental ping-pong was starting to get uncomfortable so he just said it.

"It is time for me to go" he said softly, finally looking at Alice. "You and Bob have a lot to do and I am just not suited for desk duty."

There was an even longer pause that got all three of them into the mental ping-pong. They had become a very tight team over a short time and breaking it up was disturbing.

A cloud of sadness fell over them as the realizations became clear: this phase was over. The purpose of Wheeler's visit to the small town of Eaton was satisfied. The future that the Keefers faced could now be embraced with optimism and joy. They all had a new sense of security and confidence that would serve them well in the coming days.

"I know" Alice said with tears streaming down her cheeks.

~~***~~

About Eric Hodges

Eric Hodges was born and raised in Santa Monica California, and has spent his career as an Electronic Engineer working for various commercial and government employers. His desire to expand into the non-technical world has finally surfaced into a writing avocation that has been both satisfying and enjoyable to him and he wished his new readers will enjoy the experience as well.

Contact Eric Hodges

Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer. mailto:hodgesel49@gmail.com

