Murder Lies and Little Green Men: A Dreamland Junction Mystery by Kendra Ashe

Author:Kendra Ashe [Ashe, Kendra]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Levine Press
Published: 2015-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

11

By the time we got to Las Vegas, it was nearly lunch, though we probably wouldn’t need to stop and eat, on account of Spencer had eaten all our corn chips during the drive.

Spencer wouldn’t have to stop to eat, anyway.

Spencer seemed to have really enjoyed the drive. At least one of us had. I never had much liked the long and boring drive from Dreamland Junction to Las Vegas.

As far as Spencer was concerned, it was just another day off. He hadn’t had any problem getting someone to cover for him. My brother loved getting the overtime, which is exactly what would happen with only one of them working.

I could sure use a hamburger, Spencer mumbled while munching the last of the corn chips.

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe you want to eat the kitchen sink too?”

“I can’t help it if I get hungry.”

“You are always hungry Spencer.”

“It won’t hurt anything to stop at that hamburger joint in the Airport,” he said, as he crumpled up the empty corn chip bag.

I was no longer listening. My eyes were drawn to the white, 737 that was in the process of taking off from one of the runways.

“What time do you think his return flight will be?” I asked.

Spencer shrugged. “From what I hear, the bigwigs usually fly in about 6:00.

So I guess we have some time to kill. That’s why I said we should get something to eat.”

Well he had a point. Besides, I was feeling a little hungry.

“There is that hamburger joint in the food court. We could eat there,” he repeated his suggestion.

When one is hungry, a hamburger was better than nothing.

Runway Burgers had some good food, but their prices were outrageous, but then again, that is the case for most everything in Las Vegas.

While I sat nursing my soda, I studied the picture I’d gotten from the Internet. It was a photo of an older gentleman with steel gray hair. He looked hard and stern, but that was probably because of the sour expression on his face, and the Air Force uniform.

Donald Bixby was Derek’s boss, according to the file my uncle had on the investigation. The same file I wasn’t supposed to have seen. It was a good thing my uncle tended to look the other way sometimes.

“Are you going to recognize this guy without his uniform?” Spencer asked.

“I hope so. It isn’t like we can just walk up to the base and ask to speak to Donald Bixby.”

“How do you know? Have you ever tried it?” he asked, in between gulps of his soda.

“Well no, but you know they won’t let us on that installation.”

It was times like this that I had to wonder whose side Spencer was on.

“So how was your hot date?” Spencer asked, a sheepish grin on his face.

I shrugged. “It was interesting.”

“That’s all? It was just interesting?”

Well you know … it was only our first date.” I reminded him.

“As close as that guy was watching you, I thought for sure he would at least get to third base,” Spencer commented.

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