The Butterfly Conspiracy (10 page)

“Should I start calling you Bond?
 
Secret agent Stephen Bond?”

He smiled back, embarrassed.

“Say, maybe we’d better get going before it gets too dark.”
 
Jeanette said, climbing to her feet.

Stephen jumped up and offered her a hand.
 
They continued walking back toward the house.

Chapter 11

Paulie woke up and glanced at the clock radio sitting on the nightstand.
 
It was
seven thirty
at night.
 
He stretched, splashed some water on his face and opened the closet to get dressed.
 
Damn suits, he muttered to himself.
 
All the clothes he had taken were suits and it seemed like nobody around here was wearing anything but flannel shirts and jeans.
 
He seemed to stick out like a sore thumb.
 
He put on a dark blue suit, decided to forget about a tie and headed out the door.

While searching the town for the Porsche, Paulie had seen a bar on
Lake Street
.
 
He decided to have a drink and maybe ask a few questions.
 
Paulie kept his eye out for the Porsche on his drive back to town.

He opened the door to The Freighter View Tavern, headed straight towards the bar and ordered a whiskey and water. He looked around.
 
The bar, just like the diner, seemed to have a combination of a few tourists and mostly locals.
 
Paulie glanced at the guy sitting next to him.
 
He was in his early twenties but didn’t look very healthy.
 
He was kind of thin and pale looking.
 
He was drinking a bottle of beer. Paulie took a drink and turned to the man.

“How you doing?” Paulie offered.

“Just fine, I’m doing just fine.” The man replied, a little hesitantly.
 

Trying to make conversation, Paulie gestured towards a photograph of a large boat, the Homer D. Williams, on the wall.
 

“What kinda boat is that? I never seen a boat like that before.”

“That’s an ore boat.
 
You’ll see plenty of them around here.
 
They haul iron ore from the mines up here to ports in
Chicago
,
Minnesota
and on into
Canada
.”

“Iron? I wondered where that shit came from.”

 
“I worked on the boats for a few years.
 
You know, there’s not a lot to do for work around here.
 
I got hurt and had to quit.”

The man stopped talking and took a sip of beer.
 
He looked back at Paulie.

“What do you do?
 
Sell insurance?”

Paulie paused. “Insurance? What the fu…”
 
He stopped himself.
 
“Ah, well, I guess you could say I’m in the insurance business.” Paulie chuckled.
 
“Let me get you a drink, Pal.
 
What’s your name?”

“They call me Moon. Moon Murchie.”
 
Moon didn’t care for that last comment about insurance.
 
It sounded a little sinister to him, but what the hell, a free drink was a free drink.
 

“And what’s your name?” Moon inquired.
 

“Paulie”.
 
With that said, Paulie turned and shot Moon a look Moon interpreted as meaning “don’t bother asking for my last name.”
 
Moon got the hint.
 

Moon Murchie hated his nickname. His real name was Francis but around here, nicknames were easy to acquire and hard to shake.
 

Francis was thirteen years old when he got saddled with the name Moon.
 
He was fishing with two other buddies along the shore of
Grand
Sable
Lake
when they saw a boat approaching.
 
The boat was owned by one of their friends.
 
As the boat got a little closer, the boys decided to have a little fun.
 
Everyone turned around and, all together, they pulled down their pants.
 

Unfortunately for them, the boat had been borrowed by a sheriff’s patrol out looking for a lost fisherman.
 
The sheriff saw little humor in their prank and they all got arrested.
 
Since Francis had previous run-ins with the law, the little prank ended his probation and he went downstate for a six-month stretch at a boy’s reform school. The other kids got a reprimand and were sent home.
 

That incident earned him the nickname Moon.
 
Once he got back, he couldn’t lose the reform school past.
 
It made locals wary of hiring him and Moon always seemed to be on the look out for an opportunity, as he was fond of saying.

Moon took a sip of his free beer.
 

Paulie asked, “Hey, Moonie.
 
You live around here?”

“Yes”

“What can you tell me about a guy named Kahle?”

“Why are you asking?”

Paulie stiffened.
 
His first impression was to grab this little hick by the throat and ask him again.
 
Paulie wasn’t used to being asked questions.
 
It was his job to ask the damn questions; but he did need some answers, so he took a moment to calm himself down and think of a reply.
 

“Ah…I’m up here looking at some property.
 
You know, investment stuff and his name keeps coming up.
 
I know he drives a nice car and I think he may be just what I’m looking for as an investor, so to speak.”

Moon took another sip of beer.
 
“He’s got dough, that’s for sure.
 
Have you ever seen his place, Cliffside Manor? He has to have a million bucks sunk into that place.”
 

“No, I’ve never had the opportunity.”
 
Paulie’s heart was beating faster.
 
“But I’d love to see it.
 
Is it close?”

“Oh, yeah.
 
About eight miles from here.
 
Just when you come down the hill after the Grand View sign, you take a quick left on Pine Ridge Road and go back about two miles.
 
There’s a big gate, so you can’t just drive in, but it’s quite a site.”
 

So that’s how they disappeared so fast, Paulie thought.
 
He finished his drink and ordered another round for himself and Moon.
 
“So what’s there to do here at night? You got any clubs? You got an Italian Social Club, something like that?”

“Oh yeah, we got the Moose Lodge.
 
On Fridays they cook up one hell of a fish fry.
 
And the drinks are cheap, too.”

 
“A lodge for moose.” Paulie muttered, “Now that’s just goddamned perfect.
 
All these damn trees and a lodge for Moose to go along with it. Just where the hell am I?”

“What?” Moon asked.

“Nothing, pal, nothing at all” Paulie said, shaking his head.
 
“Nothing at all.”

Chapter 12

    
Rain was pelting the window when Stephen woke up.
 
He looked outside.
 
Grey clouds were scurrying across the sky.
 
It looked cold outside and his room felt damp.
  
He had now been at Cliffside Manor for three days and this was the first bad weather he had encountered.
 
 

He showered, slipped on some warm clothes and headed downstairs for breakfast.
 
The dining room was empty.
 
Stephen glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was already nine-thirty.
 
He had slept much longer than usual.
 
It must have been the soothing sounds of the rain hitting against his window.
 

Uncle Phillip had mentioned that he would be working in his office most of the day and Stephen knew that meant Jeanette was probably busy too.
 
Stephen had not figured out what Britt’s schedule was.
 
She came and went as she pleased, it seemed.
 
Every time he saw her she always seemed to be dressed in something very flimsy and almost see through.
 
With the weather outside being so cold and rainy, he wondered if she would be walking around in flannels today.
 

Stephen headed for the kitchen, which was located behind the dining room. As Stephen entered, Cora and a man were sitting at a table having coffee.
 
At the sight of Stephen, Cora jumped up.
 
“What can I get you for breakfast, Stephen?”

“Nothing, Cora.
 
Sit down.
 
I’ll find something myself.”
 
Cora poured Stephen a cup of coffee, handed it to him and walked back over to the table.
 

“I’d like you to meet Bobby Blankenship.
 
Bobby’s our security guard.”
 
Bobby stood up to shake Stephen’s hand.
 
He was over six feet tall and had sandy blond hair.
  

Stephen shook his hand.
 
“Nice to meet you.
 
I’ve seen you walking outside, but we’ve never been introduced.”

Bobby sat back down, and he and Cora returned to their conversation.
 
Stephen dug through the cupboards and found a bagel and a blueberry muffin.

 
   
Stephen wandered over to the trophy room and sat in a huge brown leather chair, worn smooth from much use. A fire was burning, and Stephen welcomed the warmth as he ate his bagel.
 

The night before, as he lay in bed, he kept thinking about the man who seemed to have been following him.
 
Stephen felt a little embarrassed that he had mentioned his concern to two different people and it seemed neither of them had believed him.
 

With the bad weather, and both his uncle and Jeanette busy working, he thought it would be fun to check out the town of Grand View and possibly do some sketching.
 
He could also ask a few questions, or maybe even find the guy who may have been following him.
 
The guy certainly was big enough to spot!

    
Stephen heard a cough at the doorway.
 
He turned around.
 
It was Britt.
 
No flannels for her.
 
She was wearing a long sheer night gown, her hair was all tousled like she had just gotten out of bed.
 
She was holding a cup of coffee.