Xmas Marks The Spot by Kris Pearson

Author:Kris Pearson [Pearson, Kris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy Animal Mystery, Cozy Crafts & Hobbies Mystery, Sleuth & Pet Sitter, Freelance Editor, Drizzle Bay New Zealand, Women's Fiction, Small Town & Rural Area, Violence & Crime Story, Action & Adventure, Dangerous & Deadly, Suspenseful Fiction, Thrillers & Suspense, Mystery & Intrigue, Hilarious Whodunnit, Romantic Schemes, Christmas Time, law enforcement, Detective
Publisher: Kris Pearson
Published: 2019-08-20T04:00:00+00:00

8 – Cross Country

Erik, being Erik, decided he could fly over anything he wanted to without waiting for permission.

“So are you on for reasonably early in the morning?” we heard him drawl. “Maybe about 8.30? I have things to do later.”

“And I suppose you’ll both have to talk to Carver or Wick,” Paul said.

Heather puffed out an impatient breath. “They can wait. I really can’t tell them anything more than Erik already did.”

“You got transport or you want me to collect you?” he asked.

She looked across at Paul. “Is your car fixed yet?”

“With any luck I’m collecting it from Ten Ton by midday – he was waiting for a replacement radiator.”

“I can take you,” I said. I remembered Erik and John and Heather had all shared the first flight. Why not Erik and Heather and me this time around? “So we come to Kirkpatrick’s barn around 8.30?”

“Okey-dokey,” Erik said, although no actual invitation to fly was issued. Surely he wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave me standing by the barn while he flew off with Heather?

“You know where you’re going?” Graham asked. That was aimed at Erik, not me.

“Yup – pulled it up on the sat-map.”

“Devon Downs,” Graham said, wanting to make sure.

“Yup – can see the lake. Might have to land outside the fenced area if we do this for real. There’s a lot of native forest.”

“Bush,” Graham said.

“Bigger than bushes! But yes, I know that’s what you Kiwis call it.”

“No idea why,” I said. “But it’s the areas of original native vegetation. For instance, you wouldn’t call that pine plantation ‘bush’.”

“And over in Aussie,” Graham added, “They call everything outside the cities ‘bush’, and it’s mostly open space with damn-all bushes.”

“Strange world, Down Under,” Erik agreed with a smile in his voice. “Anyway, we’ll have a look in the morning, and if it’s not suitable then no point even asking the owner.”

“I’ll be phoning him anyway,” Graham said. “See how he’s coping.”

“Leave it until maybe ten,” Erik said. “I’ll get back to you.” Then he changed to a much softer tone. “You want to take me off speaker now, honey?”

Heather reached out for the phone. “Done,” she murmured. “So I’ll see you in the morning.”

I watched as she closed her eyes and listened to whatever private things he wanted to say. Then she gave a quiet laugh, said ‘you too,’ and disconnected.

*

I’d promised myself Thursday was the day I’d spend time on Elaine O’Blythe’s next animal opus – sorting out the spelling and the alarming liberties she sometimes took with her grammar. She’s a charming storyteller though, and this time it was another tale about Kerry the kereru. But was Kerry the big pigeon going to take precedence over a possible helicopter flight? Not on your nelly!

I grabbed a slice of toast and marmalade, gave my desk a guilty glance, called goodbye to Graham through the bathroom door, and was on the road in my Ford Focus by eight o’clock. Five minutes later I was knocking on Paul’s glossy red front door.

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