Read Online Fly by Night (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 3) by Laurinda Wallace - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Laurinda Wallace
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organization had started up maybe two years ago. She guessed that was about the time the Richters moved to Deer Creek. Gracie scrolled down through the article, scanning the information for anything that looked like a red flag. Renew Earth’s mission was to preserve the beauty of planet Earth and oppose the overuse and commercialization of rural areas. Petitions, peaceful protests, and education comprised their three-pronged approach to oppose wind farms, major dairy operations, mining, and whatever other commercial business they decided might ruin or otherwise taint the pristine rural environment. They were self-appointed watchdogs and would litigate to achieve their goals. Gracie shook her head. The reports were standard fare, but the violence in Greerson’s Meadow made her skeptical. And if there was a connection to D. B.’s death, that didn’t make them a friendly environmental group at all.
She stretched her arms over her head and then leaned back against the sofa. Haley stirred and thumped her tail.
Disappointed that there didn’t seem to be anything that would help Kim win the lawsuit, Gracie closed her eyes wearily. Maybe Jim was having more luck with Roscoe.
Chapter 11
In the moonlight, the campsite looked like something from a “B” sci-fi movie. A couple of battery-powered lanterns hung on poles outside the dome-shaped tent. They cast wobbly shadows around the campsite. The Geo was parked at an angle next to the brown tent. A pile of fast food bags wafted the odors of greasy French fries from the front passenger seat. Jim wrinkled his nose. If Roscoe wasn’t careful, he’d have a car full of critters.
A telescope stood at the ready next to two old and sagging card tables that sported an assortment of what looked like ham operator equipment. It reminded Jim of his Uncle Jerry’s garage with its radios and antennas. Two laptops sat side by side on another table, with Roscoe studying both screens intently. He looked like a mad scientist with his hair at all angles and his glasses hanging on the end of his beak-like nose.
“Hey, Roscoe. Any luck yet?” Jim queried.
“Oh, why, hello,” Roscoe answered distractedly, stepping back from the computers and pushing his glasses back up onto his face. “As a matter of fact, I’ve not yet been able to ascertain if my GPS coordinates are in error or if our visitors have indeed left the area.”
Jim raised his eyebrows and smothered a chuckle.
“I meant any luck with information that might help my cousin.”
“Oh. I see what you mean. I have done some research on the wind farm issue. Let me get my notes.” He began rifling through a pile of file folders that were under the laptops. “Ah, here it is.”
Roscoe adjusted his black-framed glasses again and pulled out several sheets of paper from a tattered manila folder.
“This wind farm company, New Energy Strategies Team, is relatively new. They began as a solar energy company five years ago and have now added wind power to their portfolio. In fact, it appears that Mr. Jackson was one of the first to lease land to them. That’s the wind farm in Strykersville.” He looked up at Jim, peering through his thick glasses.
“The company president is Mitchell Allen, who was once an executive for T & T Salt Company. He has an engineering background and …” Roscoe ran his index finger over his tongue and turned the paper over, scanning the contents of his handwritten notes. “Oh, yes. Mr. Allen’s company does seem to be in a precarious financial position. N.E.S.T. is relying heavily on government grants and bank financing to get these wind farms established.”
“N.E.S.T? Whatever,” Jim grumbled impatiently. “That doesn’t help Tobias out. I was really hoping you had something that might shed some light on who might want to kill D. B.”
Roscoe’s face fell. He shifted his feet uneasily, clutching the papers
She stretched her arms over her head and then leaned back against the sofa. Haley stirred and thumped her tail.
Disappointed that there didn’t seem to be anything that would help Kim win the lawsuit, Gracie closed her eyes wearily. Maybe Jim was having more luck with Roscoe.
Chapter 11
In the moonlight, the campsite looked like something from a “B” sci-fi movie. A couple of battery-powered lanterns hung on poles outside the dome-shaped tent. They cast wobbly shadows around the campsite. The Geo was parked at an angle next to the brown tent. A pile of fast food bags wafted the odors of greasy French fries from the front passenger seat. Jim wrinkled his nose. If Roscoe wasn’t careful, he’d have a car full of critters.
A telescope stood at the ready next to two old and sagging card tables that sported an assortment of what looked like ham operator equipment. It reminded Jim of his Uncle Jerry’s garage with its radios and antennas. Two laptops sat side by side on another table, with Roscoe studying both screens intently. He looked like a mad scientist with his hair at all angles and his glasses hanging on the end of his beak-like nose.
“Hey, Roscoe. Any luck yet?” Jim queried.
“Oh, why, hello,” Roscoe answered distractedly, stepping back from the computers and pushing his glasses back up onto his face. “As a matter of fact, I’ve not yet been able to ascertain if my GPS coordinates are in error or if our visitors have indeed left the area.”
Jim raised his eyebrows and smothered a chuckle.
“I meant any luck with information that might help my cousin.”
“Oh. I see what you mean. I have done some research on the wind farm issue. Let me get my notes.” He began rifling through a pile of file folders that were under the laptops. “Ah, here it is.”
Roscoe adjusted his black-framed glasses again and pulled out several sheets of paper from a tattered manila folder.
“This wind farm company, New Energy Strategies Team, is relatively new. They began as a solar energy company five years ago and have now added wind power to their portfolio. In fact, it appears that Mr. Jackson was one of the first to lease land to them. That’s the wind farm in Strykersville.” He looked up at Jim, peering through his thick glasses.
“The company president is Mitchell Allen, who was once an executive for T & T Salt Company. He has an engineering background and …” Roscoe ran his index finger over his tongue and turned the paper over, scanning the contents of his handwritten notes. “Oh, yes. Mr. Allen’s company does seem to be in a precarious financial position. N.E.S.T. is relying heavily on government grants and bank financing to get these wind farms established.”
“N.E.S.T? Whatever,” Jim grumbled impatiently. “That doesn’t help Tobias out. I was really hoping you had something that might shed some light on who might want to kill D. B.”
Roscoe’s face fell. He shifted his feet uneasily, clutching the papers
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