Solar Flare, page 24
Mather grimaced. “We cleared it, but we also found out that the switch that was supposed to put the trains on different tracks wasn’t just in the wrong position—it was jammed that way.”
“Sabotage?”
“Looks like. And murder, too. Plus, someone put an ‘Unsafe’ sign and a barricade on the Cold Creek bridge. The mayor didn’t know anything about it. I’ll have to get a county engineer out to find out what’s wrong—and figure out who placed the sign.”
Galen met his gaze. “The road over Cold Creek would be the most direct route to bring wagons from the train station. Without it, people would have to go twenty miles out of their way.” A barricade, like Rhys foresaw.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I intend to find out,” Mather said. “There are plenty of people with reasons to not want Lumen to succeed.”
“Let me know what you discover. I’m double and triple-checking everything. I’ll sleep better that way.”
“I hear you. Just—be careful. We don’t know how far the troublemakers will go,” Mather replied and headed toward his office.
Most of Lumen’s residents and visitors were busy eating dinner. The shops were closed, and solar-powered streetlamps glowed. Galen turned over the day’s events in his mind and jumped when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Do you think the train wreck has anything to do with the conference?” Sara looked as fresh and energetic as she had that morning.
“Don’t know—but it’s an unlikely coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Can Lumen protect its guests if there’s trouble?” she pressed.
“We have a plan in place.” Much as he liked Sara, he didn’t forget she was a reporter looking for a scoop—and apparently had an axe to grind. He didn’t want to get quoted wrong.
“Does that plan include you traipsing around in the dark, checking buildings?” Her grin let him know she wasn’t taking herself too seriously.
“Seems like you’re ‘traipsing,’ too. Care to share why?”
“Just soaking in the local flavor and enjoying the clean air.” Sara gave an exaggerated inhale, arms thrown wide. Despite himself, Galen chuckled.
“You’re welcome to join me, but I’m hoping it’ll be really boring.”
“Can I still ask questions?”
He nodded, and she fell into step beside him.
“Then count me in.”
Galen could tell from the darkened meeting hall windows that the volunteers had finished their work for the night. The building’s architecture maximized natural light with a backup of solar-generated electricity, but it would be wasteful to leave lights on when no one was inside. That’s why the glimmer in a basement window caught Galen’s attention as he walked around the outside with his lantern.
“Is someone supposed to be inside?” Sara asked.
“Not in the basement. If there’d been a maintenance problem, I’d be told about it, and the handyman would turn on the main lights.” Galen turned around to call for Mather, but the sheriff was nowhere in sight. It might be nothing—but I’d better see for myself.
He shuttered his lantern enough to conceal their presence and headed to the basement door, which stood ajar.
He glanced at Sara. “Stay out here.”
“Are you kidding?” She was holding a small baton like the police carried; Galen guessed she’d had it in her bag.
He sniffed the air. “Do you smell smoke?”
“Yeah. That’s not good.”
Galen sidled down the steps with Sara close behind him. He saw flames in the far corner of the room.
“Get the sheriff!” he ordered. “I’ll try to put it out.”
Sara turned and ran for the door.
Galen hung the lantern from a hook in the ceiling and grabbed a thick blanket thrown over some stored furniture. That’s when he saw a shadowy figure heading for the steps.
“Stop!” Galen could only see the man’s back. He lunged toward the intruder, not entirely sure what he would do if he caught him. The man turned and pushed hard, sending Galen sprawling. A hat and scarf hid the man’s face, and the dark, boxy jacket gave no indication of his real size.
Before Galen could gather his wits and pull himself to his feet, the intruder vanished up the steps and out the door.
Galen hesitated, torn between wanting to catch his attacker and needing to stop the fire. He wet his scarf and pulled it over his mouth and nose. The smoke in the basement had grown thicker and Galen knew he only had minutes to either put out the fire or flee.
When he saw the fire burning in a tumble of boxes and papers, Galen knew he couldn’t smother the flames with his blanket. Then he spotted a wrench and the water main.
“Here goes nothing.” Eyes watering from the smoke, he put his back and his full weight into loosening the valve, sending water gushing from the pipe and covering the floor. Galen grabbed a bucket and scooped it full from the stream to help douse the area.
What a mess. He looked around at the sodden floor and burned boxes. If I hadn’t been poking around, we could have lost the whole building.
Galen jabbed at the smoldering remains with a rake, adding buckets of water until nothing was left except ash slurry. He made sure nothing else had been tampered with and went outside. Scratches around the lock told him it had been picked.
Galen had barely snapped the lock closed when a dark form tackled him, slamming him against the side of the building. Galen struggled to free himself, and his head spun as a fist connected with his jaw.
In the moonlight, he recognized the silhouette of the man from the basement.
Galen wasn’t a large man, or particularly brawny, but he’d been a wrestler in school and he knew how to break away from a hold. He twisted free and threw a punch, striking his assailant in the eye.
The man yelped in pain and shoved Galen to the ground, landing a solid kick before he took off running.
Galen froze in shock. He tasted blood from a split lip and figured he’d have spectacular bruises from where the man had kicked him in the leg, but he didn’t think anything was broken. He dragged himself to his feet and limped to the street in time to see Sara and Mather heading his way. The town’s fire alarm pealed in the distance.
“Galen—are you all right?” Mather looked him up and down, no doubt taking in the soot and smell of smoke. His eyes widened when he saw Galen’s split lip. “What happened? Is the fire out?”
The sheriff listened as Galen told his story. The fire wagon raced past them, and Galen unlocked the basement door so the firefighters could ensure the danger was over.
“I don’t know where the guy who tackled me went or whether he might have friends,” Galen concluded.
“I’d already recruited security patrol volunteers,” Mather told him. “Just didn’t think we’d need them before the event even started. How about I walk you and Sara to where you’re going? I’ll make sure someone’s watching the Collegium and the community center all night.”
Annabelle was waiting on the porch when they brought Sara to her house, clearly worried from the fire alarm. The two men were tense on the short walk to Galen’s place, and the sheriff kept his hand on his gun the entire way.
“Put a cold rag on that lip and try to get some sleep,” Mather advised. “I’ll have deputies on patrol. We’ll find the guy who did this—and make sure he can’t cause any more trouble.”
Galen thanked him and went inside, double-checking the locks on doors and windows and making certain no one was hiding in the closet or under the bed. He washed the blood off his face, grimaced at the size of the bruise on his thigh, and hoped tomorrow would be much less exciting.
* * *
The next day marked the formal start of the conference. Galen chewed willow bark and stayed busy enough to ignore both his lip and his leg most of the time. He confided the full story to Elizabeth and Annabelle and came up with a vague excuse for his injuries if anyone else asked. Algernon was overwhelmed escorting the speakers and didn’t seem to notice.
Sheriff Mather remained visible throughout the morning’s preparations. Galen spotted several other deputized volunteers stationed around the event area where they could keep an eye out for trouble. Galen was happy for the support, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they hadn’t seen the last of the intruder.
An hour later, when most of the guests had been ushered inside and the speakers were safely delivered to Algernon backstage, Galen let out a hopeful breath. He met Taron Hibbard on the meeting hall’s front steps to escort him to the podium, self-conscious about his puffy lip. I look like a ruffian.
“I know you and your team have put a lot of work into this conference,” Hibbard said as they walked up the steps. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. If we can sway the investors in the audience and bring a couple more inventors on board, I believe we can win more towns and cities over to the promise of solar energy.”
Galen had only an instant to see the man coming up fast behind them. Beneath his hat, the newcomer sported a black eye.
“Get down!” Galen put himself between Hibbard and the intruder as two deputies ran toward them. Steel glinted in the sun as the man’s knife slashed toward Hibbard.
Galen blocked the blow with his forearm and cried out in pain as the blade cut deep. He shielded Hibbard with his body as all hell broke loose around him.
The sheriff joined them as Hibbard gently pushed Galen away and stood, looking at Galen’s bleeding arm with concern.
“You protected me,” Hibbard said as Galen wrapped his hand around the slash to slow the blood. “Thank you.”
“Let’s get you inside,” Mather said to Hibbard. “And get you to a doctor,” he added with a look at Galen.
“It’s not too bad,” Galen said through gritted teeth. “I can move my fingers.” He had a knife, just like in Rhys’s vision.
Mather’s no-nonsense expression made it clear he wouldn’t change his mind. Galen trailed behind as the sheriff delivered the town founder into Elizabeth’s care in the lobby, then took Galen by his uninjured arm and hustled him down the street to the doctor.
“I don’t imagine you could be persuaded to go home and rest?” Mather asked as the doctor examined Galen’s arm. “You’ve had a busy couple of days.”
Galen shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll rest when everything’s over—I promise. But I want to make sure things go smoothly and see the reaction to the presentations today.”
Mather sighed in resignation and the doctor shooed them toward the door once Galen’s injury was treated and bandaged. “Be careful. I’ve got more volunteers on patrol. Let’s hope they’re not needed.”
Galen returned to the meeting hall just as the crowd rose to a standing ovation, giving Hibbard a round of thunderous applause. Galen stood in the back with his injured arm in a sling. Despite the pain, he couldn’t help smiling at the enthusiastic reception to Hibbard’s presentation.
“They don’t know that you saved his life.” Elizabeth slipped up beside him. “But of course, Sara caught wind of it, and I don’t imagine she’ll let it rest until she knows who put the stranger up to the attack.”
Galen chuckled. “I have full confidence she’ll figure it out. What about the investors and the dignitaries? After all the work to put this together, I feel like I’ve missed the whole thing.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You just missed the talking part. Taron thanked you by name for all your work and acknowledged the rest of us as well. Annabelle said the delegation from Upstate New York and the group from Ohio were very interested in the crafts and trade exhibits and wanted to know details on how everything solar works.”
“That’s good, right?” All the excitement, plus blood loss and skipping a few meals, made Galen lightheaded.
“I overheard Mayor Sumner talking with the inventors and they want to come here to do research on new solar technology. She’s going to introduce them to friendly investors at a private dinner tonight,” Elizabeth confided. “And I saw Taron with those investors from New York City. They looked very pleased. Someone said they invited him to come speak. So I think it’s all gone very well.”
“That’s good,” Galen said. “Lumen deserves to be recognized the world over.” He staggered, and Elizabeth braced him.
“Go home,” she told him. “Rest before the dinner tonight. And don’t worry—we’ve got the dishes taken care of,” she added with a smirk.
Much as Galen wanted to argue, he knew that he was fading fast. “Send someone to the house to bring me back in time,” he told her. “And if you need me—”
“We know where to find you. Now, go.”
A few hours’ rest made a remarkable difference. Galen managed to attend the dinner, even if he remained quieter than usual, and let Elizabeth and Annabelle do more of the socializing. He felt a surge of pride and, from across the room, Hibbard caught his eye and raised his glass in a silent toast.
Rhys slipped up beside him during the reception. “Did my vision help?”
Galen nodded. “Yes. Thank you. Have you foreseen anything else?”
Rhys looked at the happy crowd milling around and talking with each other. “I had a vision of sunny skies. It’s a good omen.”
Galen nodded, pleased and proud. “Lumen deserves it.”
That night, once the guests had gone back to their quarters and the clean-up crew put the chaos of the evening in order, Galen sat on the couch in his parlor, exhausted but too jittery to sleep. A knock at the door startled him and, to his surprise, he found Sheriff Mather on the porch, holding a jug of whiskey.
“Thought you might still be awake and want a nightcap,” Mather said.
“I think that’s an amazing idea.” Galen stood aside so the other man could enter.
“By the way, the sign on the bridge was fake. The engineer vouched for its safety. One more bit of malicious tampering.”
Mather sat down at the kitchen table and Galen brought two glasses. “I’d say we both deserve this after a day like this,” the sheriff said, and poured them generous portions.
“To Lumen,” Mather said, lifting his drink in a toast.
“To Lumen,” Galen echoed.
“Thought you might like to know, the man who attacked you and Hibbard sang like a canary once we had him in jail,” Mather said after he’d taken a slug of his drink. “I’ll skip the details, but it didn’t take a master sleuth to trace his connections back to Alston Merritt.” Mather knocked back the rest of the whiskey. “Which I might have let slip to that intrepid reporter you were squiring around earlier today. I imagine it’ll be the talk of Charleston and elsewhere once her article hits the paper.”
“Imagine that.”
“Oh, and the mayor said to tell you congratulations on running the event.” Mather poured himself more whiskey and topped off Galen’s glass.
“Nice to know. Algernon said something in passing about giving me a raise. We’ll see if he remembers come Monday.”
“One of Hibbard’s investors just earmarked money for more deputies, so something like the attack doesn’t happen again. Didn’t expect that, but I sure won’t turn it down. If Merritt sees Lumen as a threat, so will others like him. Better safe than sorry.”
They finished their drinks and Mather left the rest of the jug with Galen before heading home. Galen toyed with his empty cup, thinking about the day, finally tired enough to sleep.
It ended up being a very good day for Lumen.
He got ready for bed and, just before he drifted off, Galen caught the scent of gingerbread and rose perfume, his grandmother’s favorites, a sign from beyond of praise and blessing.
A very good day, indeed.
INTERVENTIONS
by Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
“Octopus! Migraine Octopus!”
I was stunned, and Bugle was licking my face with a whine, leaning against me as I was slumped against an old-growth oak. There was a lot of green around me—and I’d taken a blow to my shoulder and maybe the side of my face or…
“Octopus! Migraine Octopus!”
There it came again, that’s exactly what I’d heard. Bugle leaned harder, trying to give me access to his harness, where there was a back-up comm unit and a first-aid kit.
Then I heard my name called for sure…
“Alberte Magnus! Are you injured?”
That was who? The pastor? Pastor Fred?
Against a background of the sighing of wind in the trees there were other sounds now, some quiet cussing, some complaints about slipping, and birds in the distance—ravens, perhaps, and that “tret, tret, tret” I didn’t recognize, coming from somewhere nearby.
