The Strange Incident at Quail Center

By Richard Jay II

Gulf War veteran Raymond (Kit) Carson is a survivor. Now immersed in civilian life as the owner of an airfield on his inherited land, Kit enjoys instructing his student pilots, especially the lovely Lisa Morgan who is learning to fly to surprise her boyfriend. but when a wounded pilot crash lands on his airfield, everything changes for Kit and his once tranquil operation.

After the medics discover the pilot has been mortally wounded prior to the crash, it spurs an investigation by the sheriffs department that calls on Kit for his expert advice. Although Kit attempts to continue with his business as usual and let the investigation take its course, a new student reveals a surprising story that ties the pilots murder to a past crime. Kit now harbors a lethal secret and tries to distract himself by instructing and romancing Lisauntil fate leads the killer straight to his airfield.

The Strange Incident at Quail Center is an exciting tale of murder and intrigue in a place where fledglings earn their wings and romance abounds as a serial killer waits to strike again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Sep 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781480811270

Richard Jay II

The author, Richard Jay II, has lived a long and productive life, beginning with service in WWII. After retiring as president of a manufacturing firm, he was free to build and fly two full-sized aircraft and, finally, begin writing full-time. Lady Bane is his fourth novel.

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Copyright © 2014 Richard Jay II.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Archway Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-1126-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-1127-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014916530

Archway Publishing rev. date: 10/15/2014

CONTENTS

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EPIGRAPH

At the least, a worthy novel must leave the reader with a modicum of new information.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This is a short list of friends who have provided encouragement in the writing of this novel.

Gary, Deborah, Fred and Ted.

I thank you.

1

RAYMOND (KIT) CARSON’S YELLOW LAB LEAPT from his pad at the foot of the bed. He watched as his master began to stir.

Carson punched the strobe switch and lay still for a moment. (The silent strobe light was Carson’s cobbled replacement for his grating alarm clock). He reached over to pat the pillow at his side and whispered, Good morning Kitty. This was his daily remembrance of his dear wife. It was now four years since she had succumbed to a terminal malady. The pain of her loss was slowly beginning ebb.

Carson sat on the side of the bed and stroked Beau’s head and scratched him behind the ears. Hey big fella, you must have slept well. I heard you snoring for half the night. We have a busy morning today.

Carson shuffled to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and swallowed a prescribed pill assortment to assuage the symptoms of a Gulf War syndrome. (He’d served for two years in Iraq as a helicopter mechanic in areas often targeted by rocket attacks.)

Beau watched his every move as he washed and shaved and then dressed in a denim shirt, faded jeans and sturdy work shoes.

Carson looked in the mirror and ran his fingers through his short brown hair, now beginning to gray at the temples. His ruddy complexion with a square jaw and large expressive brown eyes are complemented by a nose that Kitty once considered and said, It’s more than adequate, but I like it.

The pleasant aroma of fresh brewed coffee drew him to the large farm kitchen. The timer had begun the brewing process and a two cup carafe of coffee was ready. A tight schedule precluded preparing his usual breakfast, so Carson consumed a mealy breakfast bar as he drank his black coffee. He put a second bar into his bomber jacket pocket for later and took his leather ball cap from the hook by the door. As soon as he opened the kitchen door Beau rushed out on an inspection tour of the fenced in yard. The Carson house was a typical prairie farmhouse design, but the white siding was in need of a coat of paint. The sagging front porch would need some shoring if it were to survive the snowdrifts of another winter.

When Kit came home from his tour in the Gulf War, the four-hundred and fifty acre farm was still being managed by his widower dad.

Kit spent the first few weeks trying to get acclimated to civilian life once again. He busied himself with farm equipment maintenance, while his father and the hired help managed the field work. Kit was on a visit to the farm store for parts and upon his return he was devastated to see a rescue vehicle in the yard. Doc Kendall had arrived also. I’m very sorry, Kit, he said. There was nothing we could do. Your dad was lying in the field for half an hour before Jason had a free moment to go and check. Your dad evidently had a massive heart attack and fell off the tractor while disking the south forty. My practiced opinion is that nothing could have been done if help had arrived sooner. A massive cardiac event can only be treated successfully if it happens near the operating room. Even then, it requires the Lord’s assistance… Please except my heart-felt sympathy, Kit. Your father was a pillar in our community. He will be sorely missed.

Jason, his dad’s hired hand, said, "Your father never admitted to distress or had any visible symptoms. He always seemed to be hale and hardy. He was able to outwork us all.

The local farming community was well represented at the funeral and Kit spoke at the service. My dad was a proud man who put great store in self-reliance and self-determination. He encouraged me to find my own path in life. I will do so but will sorely miss his support and council. I thank you all for your condolences and your presence to honor his memory.

Kit was an only child. He inherited the 450 acre farm. Farming was never his choice of a career. Before long, the sale of 300 acres to a neighboring farmer was concluded and Carson began building an airstrip. He used the farm machinery to build a 3400ft north south runway with a gravel base. He employed the County Paving Company to top the runway with an asphalt surface and also pave a large pad in front of the barn. Carson converted the barn to a hangar by making extensive changes and additions. A large bi-fold door faced the pad and a side door led to the small corner office. A large window provided a panoramic view of the airfield.

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Today the October morning air was pure nectar. A light breeze was stirring an early crop of fallen leaves. The comfortable 60 degree temperature was the beginning of a warm fall day. Beau was waiting at the hangar office door. Kit entered and turned on the hanger lights and toggled the switch to raise the big hangar door…Kit Carson’s Quail Center Airport was open for business.

(Kit was a private pilot with an instructors rating when he opted for military service. He progressed through basic training and found that training to be jet pilot was not available to him because of a heart murmur. He refused the option of serving as a primary flight instructor. He trained to be an aircraft mechanic and served throughout the Gulf Wars.)

Kit started the obligatory coffee machine brewing the first pot. He filled a bowl with a mound of dry dog-food and another of water. Beau was impatiently waiting and he immediately began crunching his daily fare.

The answering machine was flashing but Kit waited for the coffee. He took a cup to his desk and turned on the machine. He munched his second breakfast bar as he listened to Chuck Hogan’s raspy voice. Morning Kit. Just calling to be sure my 150 will be ready by 9:30 today. Betty will be heartbroken if we miss Helen’s piano recital at the Music Camp in Michigan. I know you’ll do your best, but call as soon as you are sure. Thank you.

Kit was gathering his tools but took a moment to walk to the hangar door for a glimpse of the rising sun. Beau nudged his leg. Kit looked at him and smiled.

Ready big fella? Beau’s tail wagged so hard that it moved his rear end from side to side. Kit eyed him and waited a moment to increase the tension. OK Beau. Go, Go! and Beau took off at top speed, heading for the runway.

This time of year Canada Geese chose to congregate on the mown borders of the runway. The big geese are a hazard to aircraft small and large. Beau’s task was to put a scare in them so they would leave the area. Kit watched for a moment and then began removing a magneto from Carl Wenstrom’s Cessna 182 that was in for the annual inspection. It would still take a few more days to complete that process. Chuck and Carl were flying buddies and Carl agreed to the loan of a magneto for use in Chuck’s aircraft for the trip to Michigan.

Kit made the switch and set the timing. He was ready for the test run-up when 17 year old Hack Gibson arrived for work. Hack is a wan-a-be pilot with no funds for instruction. He works after school and weekends for instruction credit and a little cash. He sweeps up, pumps gas and washes aircraft as required. Tips provide some gas money for his rusted Volkswagen.

After the plane was moved into position and Hack had set the wheel chocks, Kit climbed aboard, waved Hack away and started the engine. He rev’d the engine to 2200rpm and switched each magneto off in turn. The result was good but Kit shut down the engine then restarted the engine and repeated the procedure. He climbed down and called to Hack. It looks good Hack. Top up the tanks after I put the cowl back on, but be careful, it won’t take much.

Kit called Hogan. Chuck, your plane is ready. We’ll top up the tanks… Don’t thank me now. Wait till you see the bill.

Kit removed the drive gear and packed the faulty magneto for shipment to the factory for exchange. Chuck had been having an intermittent magneto problem. Kit insisted that the device be changed.

Kit was replacing his tools when he heard a car door slam. He looked at his watch. Lisa Morgan was due for a lesson in forty minutes. Kit looked up as she walked in carrying a Dunkin’ Donut™ box.

Hi, I came a bit early. I thought you might have a donut and coffee with me. What do you prefer, sprinkles or peanut covered?

That’s very thoughtful of you, Lisa. I had a light breakfast this morning. I’ll take the peanut covered one. Why don’t you pour coffee and check the weather map while I wash up.

It took two scrubbings with Goop™ to get his hands clean. He tried not to be too obvious as he enjoyed watching her improvise a table setting on the desk with paper towels.

Lisa was wearing slim cut jeans with a snug blue T. A short denim jacket with rolled up sleeves completed her attire. Her auburn hair was gathered in a pony-tail with a blue band. Her large blue eyes always seemed to have a merry twinkle in them that enhanced her lovely smile. Of late, Kit seemed to miss a breath when Lisa first came into sight, but that was an uncomfortable reaction. Lisa’s intended is in a U.S. Air force Primary Pilot Training Program at Vance AFB, Oklahoma. Don Taylor and she are considering marriage when he is accepted for and completes his jet training. Lisa is learning to fly to surprise him.

Kit sat down at his desk with Lisa opposite. He took a large bite of his donut and said, Hmmm, good. He sipped the hot coffee carefully.

Lisa took a small bite of her donut and smiled. Where are we flying today?

We will stay local. There is about a ten mile an hour cross wind. Since you’re nearing your solo flight I want to be sure that you can handle a cross wind without any problem. What is the proper technique in making a crosswind landing?

Keep the wing into the crosswind lower and level it and straighten the crab angle just at touch-down.

Good, there is a little more to know, depending on the strength of the cross wind. We’ll go over that once we’re in the air. What is the cross wind component our plane is capable of handling?"

Gee, I don’t know.

Every type of plane has a slightly different capability. You’ll find the answer to my question in the manual for our plane. It’s kept in the pocket behind the pilot’s seat. Look it up when you do the preflight for the 150. Now get Hack to help you get the plane out of the hanger. Ladies don’t do that, but you’re a pilot. Kit smiled What is the weather forecast?

Your map indicates ceiling unlimited, no storms in the picture. I called the FAA weather at home, they said ‘No problem.’

I doubt that that was the terminology the forecaster used, but I got the point. Kit grinned.

Oh boy, I’ll have to be careful. You’re picky today. Lisa frowned.

Relax, Lisa. A little humor goes a long way. Now, leave your log book and get the Cessna 150 ready. I have to return a student’s call. He patted her shoulder.

Lisa’s lesson went well. She did five crosswind landings at Quail Center and then two more at another field, where more radio work was required. Kit was pleased, We have one more segment to cover and you’ll be ready for your first solo. I’ll miss flying with you twice a week. Kit blushed a bit, the faint aura of her exotic perfume was hard to ignore in the closed cockpit. You’ll be doing local solo flights, but we’ll fly together a few more times while you sharpen your navigation skills. Your solo cross country flights will be coming up, after I feel that you are ready. Now take us home, you’ve done very well today.

Lisa executed her best landing of the day, taxied to the ramp and shut down.

Come into the office. Give me a moment to write comments in your log book and we’ll check the calendar for a date and time of your next lesson hour.

Before she left for home, Lisa smiled and said, I’m an effusive person. I like to hug to mark happy moments of achievement — would you mind?

My pleasure, Lisa Kit held out his arms and enjoyed the warmth of the embrace. Now drive safely on your way home.

Lisa laughed, "I will Daddy. Bye now."

Kit smiled. He watched her walk to her car just as the Hogan and wife arrived.

They thanked Kit for the rapid repair service. They boarded their plane and flew off.

Hack was fueling a transient Cherokee Archer. Pilots came in for fuel because Kit’s prices were the lowest in the area. Kit was building relationships for tie-down pad rentals and for mechanical work. The pilot came in to sign the credit card receipt. Kit said, Thank you, I’m Kit Carson. He offered his hand. "We provide full service here.

We’ll be building rental hangers soon. I’ve started a waiting list."

I’m Bill Wilson. Glad to meet you. He smiled. By any chance are you descended from?— Of course not. Sorry, I guess you hear that all the time.

Kit laughed, The ribbing started in grade school as a nick-name. My first name is Raymond, but nick-names seem to follow wherever you go.

Kit heard Wilson’s radio transmission on the office speaker during the plane run up and departure as he returned to work on Carl’s Cessna. Before long he heard the engine of another aircraft on final. He couldn’t resist going to see because there had been no radio transmission. The plane was coming in too fast, unless the guy was buzzing the field. Wait, No! Kit gasped. The plane approach angle was too steep. The Cherokee hit the runway at a 15 degree angle and bounced ten feet into the air. It dropped and hit collapsing the nose gear and striking the propeller that stopped the engine but the inertia was still great. The plane veered off the runway plowing grass and soil until it was stopped by the ditch at the county road.

Kit ran to his golf cart on which he’d mounted a large fire extinguisher and a first aid kit. He shouted to Hack. Get the crow bar and hop on board. Kit dialed 911 on his cell phone as travelled the runway to as close as possible. They ran the rest of the way. Kit had the fire extinguisher and Hack carried the first aid kit and the crow bar. Kit opened the door and hauled the pilot out. He had a head injury and Kit saw bleeding from his chest. The rescue vehicle arrived soon after.

After ten minutes of using all the classic measures, the lead medic said. This one is gone.

Kit asked, Which of the crash injuries do you think killed him?

Probably neither. He’s been shot through the back with the exit wound through his chest, but please don’t quote me. That’s the Medical Examiner’s call. I’m only a Fire Department Medic.

A siren was winding down. In a moment an out of breath Sheriff Bliss arrived. What’s the story guys?

Kit spoke first.