A Man at Twilight
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Mixed-race private eye Archie, his partner Shenandoah, a Mohawk and his Scottish half-sister Annabel, travel to the tropical island of Barbados. They are there to prevent a crooked manager from stealing the resort which was willed to the siblings by their father and end up fighting for the hotel and their lives.
Vibert Miller
Vibert Miller is the author of fourteen books, msot of them romantic thrillers with a touch of paranormal and science fiction. He lives in the Pioneer Valley of Western Masssachussetts.
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A Man at Twilight - Vibert Miller
A MAN AT TWILIGHT
By
VIBERT MILLER
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright @ 2018 by Vibert Miller
All rights reserved.
For my father, who was a man at twilight.
Chapter 1
Jacob Taggart came into our office accompanied by a pretty teenager, whom I took to be about seventeen. He stuck out his hand for me to shake and high fived Shenandoah. Tag usually makes this distinction and I’m yet to discover why.
How’s it goin’, Archie?
he boomed. Taggart is an ex-football player, who, after many years in the NFL, had retired as one of the most successful players to ever toe the line. He had invested wisely and is now the owner a very popular night club on Fort Lauderdale Beach. He is also the largest man I know.
Doing fine, Tag. Who is the pretty young lady?
My daughter, Julia,
he said. Julia, say hello to Mr. Maclean, and Mr. Highwater over there.
She smiled prettily and waved to both of us. Hi.
So, Tag,
I said, how’d you come to have such a pretty daughter?
That’s all her mother,
he replied, although I think she got her height from me.
Julia was not only pretty, she was tall. Taller than most girls her age. I could see a basketball player in the making. She had her eyes fixed on Shenandoah.
What brings you out of your club, Tag?
I asked.
Julia thinks she’s being stalked, and I’m taking it seriously. My daughter is not one to imagine things.
Julia turned to whisper to her father. He patted her hand and said out loud, ask him.
Shenandoah and I exchanged glances. He smiled because he was anticipating her question.
Excuse me, Mr. Highwater. Are you Native American?
she asked.
A smile played around Shenandoah’s mouth. He glanced at me and I shook my head, but he went into his denial, anyway.
No, Julia. I’m Indian.
I rolled my eyes. Why does he do this?
The teenager was clearly stumped. I could see the questions in her eyes.
What’s the difference? Do you mean you’re from India?
No. I’m Mohawk.
Shenandoah loves this.
Aren’t Mohawks Native Americans?
Maybe, but I’m Indian.
I had to step in or this would have gone on all morning. I explained to Julia that Shenandoah thinks of himself as Indian because all his ancestors were called Indians. Native American, he thought, was a title hung by well-meaning, pale faces.
Oh. See Daddy.
Julia,
Tag explained, is doing a special paper for school, which she titles ‘The effects of Indian culture in the United States.’ I had mentioned that Indians are now referred to as Native Americans.
Tell us about the stalking,
I said.
Let her tell it. Julia?
Okay. I do a lot of after school activities, so I usually get home late, like right around dinner time. There’s this car following me all the time.
When did you start noticing this?
I asked.
About two weeks ago.
she said.
Can you describe the car?
Shenandoah said.
I don’t know much about cars, Mr. Highwater. It’s a small car like mine and its dark blue.
I bought Julia a small Honda when she got her license,
Tag said.
Can you tell who’s driving the car?
I asked. Is it a man or woman or maybe a student?
I’m not sure. I think it might be a student. A guy. He usually stays about three cars back and he wears a baseball cap pulled down low.
What color car do you drive?
A white Honda.
And the other car is small like yours and dark blue.
Yes.
Okay. Tell us what days you notice this other car.
Whenever I leave to go home. I’m in drama club and I play basketball.
Sounds like this person knows your schedule, Julia. Do you date?
No. I’m not allowed. Not until I turn eighteen.
Her mother’s idea,
Tag said, and I agree.
Right now, I’m mostly focusing on studies anyway. I want to get into a good college.
When is your next after school activity?
I asked.
Tomorrow night. Drama.
Okay, Tag, we’ll take it from here. Julia, when you leave the building go straight home like you usually do. We’ll tail the guy who is following you. We’ll be in Mr. Highwater’s pickup. It’s light green, so don’t be alarmed if you see a light green pickup, behind you.
And, Julia, after we get this sorted out, I want you to come back and talk to me about your paper,
Shenandoah said. I may be able to help.
Moon?
I said to Shenandoah.
What Moon?
Julia asked looking from me to Shenandoah.
That’s my wife, Moonbeam Running Deer,
Shenandoah said. She’s Chippewa and she’s an attorney. And I’m sure she too, would like to talk to you.
A smile broke over Julia’s face making her look even prettier.
A Mohawk and a Chippewa. That’s great. I can’t wait.
The next day we were in Shenandoah’s pickup parked about five car lengths away from the front entrance of the school building. We watched as Julia left and walked to the parking lot to get her car. Just then we saw a small, blue Chevy take up a position near the exit. We knew this was the stalker.
Julia pulled out of the lot and headed home. We didn’t know if she saw us. We had told her not to look around. Just drive home as if she were not aware of anything. Then the Chevy pulled in about two cars behind her. We knew we had her stalker.
Okay, brave warrior,
I said, let’s see how good your tracking skills are.
Piece of cake. He doesn’t know we’re tailing him.
We stayed with him until he signaled a left turn.
He’s making his U-turn.
Stay with him.
Shenandoah allowed the man to make his turn and then u-turned to keep the tail. We stayed with him until he stopped and parked in front of an apartment building. We parked a few cars down and when the man got out of his car, I was there with my jacket opened to reveal my holstered gun. I pulled him out of the car and had him in an arm lock. Then I realized it.
What the hell is this?
I yelled at him. You’re just a kid. Why are you stalking that girl?
He sized me up quickly and I could see fear spreading in his eyes. Not only was I twice his size, but I had a gun.
Please, Mister,
he croaked. I wasn’t stalking anybody.
Yeah? Weren’t you following a white Honda?
Yes, but I wasn’t stalking her.
You know whose car that is?
Yes. That’s Julia Taggart. She’s in my class at school.
By this time Shenandoah had joined us.
Just a kid,
he said.
Yeah. He said he wasn’t stalking her. She’s in his classes. Says he knows her.
Why were you following her?
Shenandoah asked.
I only wanted to make sure she gets home safely.
You do this every night?
No. Only the nights she stays late at school.
Okay. Get back in your car from the passenger side and move over to the driver’s seat.
Shenandoah was standing at the driver’s door.
Where are you taking me?
I’m not taking you anywhere,
I said. "You’re