Carlos drove them all in his Durango. It was a long trip, as they had to fight the Saturday traffic in town, then travel an additional fifteen minutes or so out of the metroplex to get to their destination. That left Danae and Carlos much-needed time to catch up.
"So you went back to Indiana?" he asked her. "How was it?"
Danae sighed in the back seat. "Really weird," she said softly. "There was no Roger, no Nic, and everyone was really torn up about it." Roger, her ex-fiancé and drug dealer, was killed by his drug lord, who sent his best friend, Nic, to Dallas to kill Danae. In a fantastic coincidence, Nic had worked with the Ramirez gang in trafficking drugs, and the two formed an alliance to take both Danae and Carlos out. "And no one knew what happened but me. Since he's dead," she went on, "the police decided not to make a big public scene about it. Nobody understands why I'm so upset…Nic and Roger are still the good guys."
"That's rough," Carlos agreed. "How are you coping?"
"It's better here," she admitted. "You, at least, seem to get it, and all your friends are really supportive. You're lucky."
"I know," he laughed. "I wake up every day and realize that."
"I'm just looking forward to getting on with my life," she concluded enthusiastically. Carlos raised an eyebrow and stole a quick glance at Trent. It sounded like Danae's plans involved moving beyond the whole messy situation…and the tenderness she and Carlos had almost had at that time. Trent shrugged. He wasn't going to read too much into it. Even if Carlos and Danae couldn't see it, Trent knew they would be great together. How could he set that up without being obvious or forcing the idea on them?
"Speaking of getting on with life, I hear they're sending Margo back undercover," Carlos said.
"Yeah," Trent said. "I'm not sure what I think about that."
"She's a big girl," Carlos shrugged. "You can trust her."
"I know that," Trent said, "But I don't trust the situation. I mean, the FBI made it pretty clear last time that she's expendable. Turn here," Trent said as Carlos turned right off the lonely highway and onto a rural road. The sun had faded the yellow lines on the road so that they were barely visible. Houses were few and far between, sitting far from the main road.
"It's like being home again," Danae murmured as they passed a tall farmhouse.
"This is true hick country," Carlos said. "There are more animals than people."
"This is nothing," Danae said, leaning forward over Carlos' shoulder. "There were more pigs behind my house than there were people in my entire town." Trent whistled, and Danae sat back. "I kind of miss the quiet."
Carlos chuckled deeply. "Farm girl."
"Well we can't all have Detective Sandoval's glamorous suburban childhood," she retorted.
"Mmmhmmm," he agreed. "Don't diss the Sandovals until you've met them."
"I wouldn't dare," she grinned again, squeezing his shoulder to let him know she was joking.
"It's up there on the right," Trent told Carlos, who turned down a dusty path and parked in front of an old farm house. As the trio approached the front door, it opened, and a tiny, jovial woman in her late sixties came out of the house. "Mrs. Peters?" Trent addressed her. "I'm Trent Malloy from Thunder Investigations, and this is my partner Carlos Sandoval."
"Nice to meet you," Carlos took her gnarled hand after Trent had greeted her. "This is Danae Launey. She agreed to help us out in this case."
"Your house is beautiful, Mrs. Peters," Danae gushed as she shook hands.
"Call me Gwendy, please," the old woman insisted. "Please, come inside with me, children." Trent smiled at being called a kid again and followed her.
"May I look around outside?" Danae asked.
"Certainly dearie," Gwendy said before she, Trent, and Carlos slipped inside the old house. "Can I get you boys some cookies and milk?" she asked.
"No thank you," Carlos answered. He wanted to get down to business. "Where are you hearing these noises?" Gwendy led them up creaky wooden stairs to the second story. They stared down a well-cleaned wooden hallway.
"Forget ghosts," she said in a conspiritorial tone as she entered a room that appeared to be a study. "The real reason I called you is because I think there are aliens out in the fields."
"Aliens," Carlos stated.
"I know it sounds batty, but I see them. Black figures making their way through the fields to a glowing spot." She pointed out the window at a cornfield. "I hear sounds of machinery, and it's nothing I've ever heard before. And I've been around a while, you know."
"Are you sure they're not just some kids trying to get lost in the corn fields?" Trent asked. "There's any number of ways to explain what you see and hear."
"Take a look around, Mr. Malloy," she said pertly, indicating the fields that surrounded her house, unbroken by any roads. "You'd have to walk a long way to get out here, and no kid in this day and age is going to go to so much trouble for a lark. Even now you can see the start of a crop circle," she finished.
A muffled moaning filled the room, making the hair stand up on the back of Carlos' neck. He exchanged a look with Trent.
"Talk about timing!" Trent said. "Have you ever heard this sound before?" he asked.
"Yes!" she said, excited. "That's the sound! The machinery!" Indeed, there were sounds like the clanking and shifting of metal over metal mixed in with the moaning. She went back to the window to see if she could see anyone in the fields. "I wonder if they'll come during the day! They've never been so bold before!"
"Who's coming?" Danae asked, entering the room.
"Did you find anything?" Trent asked her.
"I don't know what I'm looking for yet," she answered. "Sounds like this is the best place to start." She went over the room, just as the guys had earlier, except that she knelt beside a heating vent that ran under the window. "Does this house still use water circulation heating?" she asked Gwendy in awe.
"Why yes," she nodded. "I believe it does." Danae looked out the window above the vent.
"I'll be back," she told them as she left again. Trent looked to Carlos, who seemed as puzzled as anyone.
"I'll follow her," he suggested.
Outside, the sun was shining brightly as Danae circled the house, wading through the long grass. Gwendy, for all of her good vices, was not able to mow her lawn because of arthritis. It was the long, wild grass that usually grew in fields instead of the short, neat kind in most Dallas yards, Danae noticed. In fact, there were some wheat stalks mixed in with the grass. Danae stopped and stared at the dead cornfield Gwendy had pointed to from the window. She could tell by the way the rest of the fields looked that they had just been harvested the past fall, and the tractor tilling the softened dirt told her that they would be planted again come spring.
She turned her eyes back to the knee-high grass and noticed several little trails crisscrossing through it. Mrs. Peters had a mouse problem, no doubt. Danae squinted up at the house and stood beneath the window where Trent and Gwendy still stood. Crouching, she began to examine the ground.
"What're YEW doing here?" an uneducated voice asked from over her shoulder. Danae started, and looked up into blue eyes sunk deep in a weathered face.
"I'm a guest of Mrs. Peters," she told the man as she stood up and wiped her hands on her jeans. She stuck out a hand. "Danae Launey."
"Bucky," he introduced himself. "This here is my brother, Wayne." Both brothers had strong grips.
"Do you own the farm land?" she asked them as they put their heavy leather gloves on again.
"Naw, Peters owns alla this. We just work it," Wayne, the taller and skinnier of the two said. His voice was lower than his brother's.
"From here?" she asked. "I mean, I don't see a barn or a shed or any other machines here, so I didn't think…"
"Barn's right across that field there," Bucky pointed over his shoulder, east of the house.
Wayne spit tobacco juice. "Listen, Danae," he said, putting his hands on his hips. "I don't know what business you have with the ole lady, but she's crazy."
"Crazy?" she prodded.
"She sees things. She hears things," Bucky drawled. "It's best jest not to humor her. She was always talking about ghosts this and that when she moved in."
"Huh…Interesting," she commented. "Is it just you two who work this land? I mean, that's just an awful lot of acres for only two people!"
"Danae?" She spun toward the sound of her name, and saw Carlos making his way across the yard to her. "Who are your friends?"
"This is Bucky and Wayne," she pointed to them in turn. "They're brothers. They work Mrs. Peters' land for her."
"Naw, we don't work for her," Wayne protested. "Well, not really," he amended his exclamation. Seeing Trent and Gwendy approaching, the brothers backed away. They nodded to Gwendy, greeting her with a terse "mam" before heading back toward the barn.
"What's going on?" Trent wanted to know.
Carlos wiped his forehead with his arm. It could get warm out here under the sun. "Ask her," he said.
"Kits," she announced proudly, earning a look of puzzlement from everyone. She bade them come closer and crouched in the dirt again. "You've got foxes, ma'am," she told Gwendy. "See these tracks? And this is the opening to the nest. I bet you anything we find mama and a few kits inside."
"Foxes are making the moaning and clanking noises?" Carlos asked.
Gently, Danae pulled back the grass and sticks that hid the entrance to the fox lair, just inside a broken basement window. A pair of large, intelligent eyes beamed back at the four humans, and a brood of younglings pressed against the mother fox's long, warm fur. Quietly, Danae pointed out the metal duct that formed one side of the burrow. "Mama fox chose this because it's warm on top of the furnace. The kits scratch against it when she leaves to hunt at night, and they probably make sounds that echo up into every room through the heating vents." Carefully, she covered the opening to the fox hole again and stood up.
"Well I'll be," Gwendy breathed. "How long will they be there?"
"How long ago did the noises start?" Danae asked.
"A couple weeks ago," she said. "Almost three weeks now, I guess."
"I'd give it two more weeks, then," she said. "By then the kits will be going with mama to find food."
"So is that case closed then?" Danae asked during the ride back to Thunder Investigations.
"Not quite," Trent answered. "She's seeing lights in that corn field, and…figures…going there at night. I don't think the fox is responsible for that. Who were those guys?"
"Farmers," Carlos said. "They work for Gwendy. Or they don't work? I was confused about that."
"They work the land that she owns," Danae explained. "But she doesn't know anything about farming, so she's not exactly their boss. They said that she was insane and that she had always complained about ghosts."
"I want to see what their story is," Carlos said. "They acted kind of shady, if you ask me."
"It's not over yet," Trent agreed.
"So are you going to come with me to the big Sandoval-clan-dinner tomorrow?" Carlos changed the subject.
Trent saw an opportunity and took it. "I can't," he said. "I've got plans with Margo."
"But what about Madre?" Carlos asked his friend incredulously. "She will never forgive me for not bringing you along!"
"I'd be there if I could," Trent told him sincerely, "but we've got reservations, and there's tuxedoes and dresses involved. I fear the wrath of Margo more than I do Madre."
Carlos raised an eyebrow. "That's saying a lot. So I'll have to make a solo appearance?"
"Take Danae," Trent suggested nonchalantly.
"That's just plain mean," Carlos replied. "Make Danae face the kraken so soon? She'll hate me for sure!"
"Never," Danae cut in.
"It's a good idea," Trent insisted.
"It's a horrible idea," Carlos argued.
"How about you ask and I decide?" Danae proposed.
"Fine. Danae, do you want to brave the fires of Hell to come to dinner with my family? This includes mother, sisters, nephews, aunts, uncles…" Carlos would have gone on in detail about the mass chaos that was his family, but Danae cut him off.
"Sure," she answered simply.
"What?" He asked if she was insane while Trent laughed.