Thunderbird by Susan Slater

Author:Susan Slater
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: amateur sleuth, military espionage, native american fiction, indian pueblo, crime fiction murder, new mexico setting, american indian mysteries
Publisher: Columbine Publishing Group, LLC

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Bruce’s lead turned out to be a perfectly normal-sounding man who told him how to find his house and said he welcomed the chance to talk with a cop. He was even on the porch as Tommy pulled up in from of the modest brick ranch-style.

Tommy started to explain his interest in their discussion but was waved off.

“Hey, anyone Bruce sends by has got to be okay. All right with you if we talk on the patio?”

Tommy followed the short, rotund man who had introduced himself as Nate Stevens around the side of the house. He favored one leg and leaned heavily on an aluminum cane. It wasn’t quite eleven but the morning was warm. It would feel good to sit outside. The covered slab that ran along the back offered dappled shade. A glass-topped table held a stack of journals. Books, some propped open, littered the area around an overstuffed chair and spilled over to a matching ottoman. All seemed to be on aliens.

“Welcome to my open-air office. Can I get you something? Soda? Tea? Maybe, a brew? My mid-morning snack is a splash of Johnny Walker’s. Gotta say I recommend it.”

“No, thanks.”

“Well, excuse me just a minute to freshen this up. I miss having a wife do these little things for me.” He picked up a tumbler and, managing the cane in his left hand, went through a sliding glass door.

Tommy looked up at the wife comment—was he kidding? He doubted it. But he couldn’t fault the guy when it came to literature on the subject of aliens—the assortment was impressive. He picked up the book closest to him and turned to the picture section. The Roswell Incident. A lot had changed since 1947 but not people’s fervent dedication to naming the U.S. government as cover-up agent. He read the news release issued shortly after the object was found. “The many rumors regarding the flying disc became a reality yesterday when the Army Air Corp was fortunate enough to gain possession of a disc through the cooperation of one of the local ranchers.” Then later that same day, the Army Air Corp officials called a news conference in Dallas and insisted the debris was remnants of a weather balloon equipped with a radar reflector.

“Gives one pause, doesn’t it?” Nate said, reappearing at the door with a fresh drink “Now we know that one of the Army generals who was supposed to have given newspaper reporters the straight scoop about the weather balloon wasn’t even in the area. He was fishing in Port Aransas. So all those comments swearing to the authenticity of the weather balloon don’t hold a lot of water. Too much fraud. No reason to go to that extreme unless there was something that needed to be covered up.” Nate dragged a white plastic lawn chair out from behind the stack of books, put his drink down, pivoted with the help of the cane, picked up another text and turned back. “The 37th Annual National UFO Conference was held in Corpus Christi last weekend, by the way.

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