Paul’s Pursuit

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Present day:

Paul ran his finger along the burn marks. He had been here a dozen times over the past six months. He refused to give up. He had been the one to find the cabin five miles beyond where the road ended. He was the one who had found the first of four bodies buried around it.

His stomach churned at the memory. When Trisha failed to show up when she promised, he had called. She always answered his calls if she could. If they missed each other, they would call the moment they got back no matter what time of the day or night.

Two days later, he had received a call from the California State Police. Trisha and several other women were missing. She had failed to return on a flight for Boswell International. The experimental business jet was still on the runway in Shelby, California.

He had driven through the night to get there. A new security system showed what happened in the dimly lit parking lot. The local sheriff had kidnapped Abby Tanner, an artist that his daughter and her childhood friend, Ariel, had been returning home from New York.

The FBI and State Police had taken over the investigation when it looked like one of their own was involved. Paul had pulled some strings and was given permission to help with the search due to his expertise in wilderness tracking.

It took three days to locate Abby and the sheriff's trucks. The motorcycle his surrogate daughter, Carmen Walker, had delivered before they landed was lying on the ground behind it, dark skid marks evidence that Carmen had laid the bike down in a hurry. During those three days Paul discovered things about the local sheriff, Clay Thomas, that chilled his blood.

Thomas was discharged from the Marines under suspicion of murdering women outside the base he had been assigned to in the Middle East. There was no proof because none of the women’s bodies were ever located. Paul called in more favors and received a copy of all the reports. He reviewed each report carefully and was able to piece together a chilling account of a man who enjoyed hurting others, women in particular.

Each family that was interviewed talked about how Thomas had stalked their wives, sisters, or daughters. They reported him to the local authorities, but nothing was ever done, even after their loved ones mysteriously disappeared. Thomas always had an alibi for where he was and was careful about making sure he wasn't followed when he left the base.

When Paul found the cabin, he knew they were dealing with a serial killer. The inside of the cabin held a wide variety of instruments designed to inflict the maximum amount of pain. Dried blood pooled between the wooden floor planks.

Paul had circled the property as investigators poured into the area. He needed to ‘see’ the area before all the ‘experts’ destroyed the evidence. He had expanded his circle until he came to the first grave. The body of the female had been dismembered before being wrapped in plastic and covered in a shallow grave. He found three more bodies before he felt sure there were no more.

A part of him died with each find. His biggest fear that Trisha, Ariel, or Carmen was one of the discarded females ate at him. It had taken two long months before the results showed none of the women were from the plane. He had traveled back and forth between his ranch in Wyoming and Shelby, California once a month since then revisiting the sites for more clues.

Now, he stood looking down at the burn marks on the trees. The fire investigator’s report was inconclusive. They could find no chemical residues and no explanations as to how or what could cause a fire that would burn hot enough to reduce a small section to ash without touching anything else.

The marks were extremely precise, as if they were directed from a source that could be fired. He had shown photos of the damage to experts in the military, but even they were baffled. One report stated no known source on Earth could have created a fire hot enough to cause that damage without igniting the forest around it.

Paul stood and looked at the spot where a very fine pile of ash was discovered by one young investigator. The analysis suggested it was human remains, but not even cremation could reduce a body to that fine an ash. He reached up and pulled a small, folded tissue from his pocket.

He opened it and looked down at the silver dollar size scale lying against the white tissue. He had found it tucked in between the bark of a tree near where the pile of ash had been discovered. It was dark red with a trace of dark green and gold along the edges. He had an analysis done on it at Wyoming State University. Hugh Little was a friend of his from high school and worked in the Bio-research department. A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered Hugh’s late night call.

“Hey Paul,” Hugh had said excitedly. “I, uh, listen I need you to call me as soon as you get back. That scale you sent me. I really need to talk to you about it.” Hugh had been so excited Paul had driven the extra two hundred and fifty miles to the campus where Hugh was a faculty member.

Hugh had greeted him with a pent-up excitement that Paul had never seen in the normally placid man. He had taken Paul back to his lab and began explaining his findings. Paul had listened carefully, but it was the images that held him captivated.

“The scale came from some type of live creature. I have no doubt about that. At first I thought it might be reptilian, but now I don't think it is. It is unlike anything I have ever seen before. It isn’t just the chemical makeup of the scale or even the size, but look at the scale when it is magnified,” Hugh explained.

Paul watched as the blurred image of the scale cleared and a very intricate pattern came into view. The edge was perfectly curved with a thin line of gold etched with dark green oblique lines cut along the edges. The red glowed with swirling colors, making it look like it was on fire. In the center of the scale was a symbol that looked like a spear. Paul walked closer, looking carefully at the pattern.

“Is it real?” he had asked Hugh in a quiet, thoughtful tone.

“Oh, it’s real alright. Do you see those swirling colors? I tried to take a small sample of it. It destroyed every needle I used. When I tried to cut through the scale, it melted my cutter,” Hugh replied. “I don’t know where you got this from but I’ll tell you one thing, I’ve never seen anything like it on Earth before.”

A cold wave of dread swept through Paul as he stared at the swirling red. That was the third time someone had said that same thing. He had retrieved the scale under protest from Hugh that he still needed to do more tests on it. Paul explained it was needed for the investigation for now, perhaps after Trisha was found he could send it back to him. For now, he needed it.

Paul tilted his head up to look at the overcast sky. It was going to rain soon. He could smell it in the air. Walking back to his truck, he looked around one more time, deep in thought, before sliding into the driver’s seat. He had one more person to visit before he returned home again. He had only discovered the name a couple of days ago. None of the investigators had thought the old woman who was a friend of the artist important enough to interview.

Paul pulled the clipboard off the dash and looked down at the address. Edna Grey, age sixty-six, family friend of Abby Tanner. Grey had known Abby’s grandparents who had raised her. She had worked with them in the entertainment field before retiring.

Abby often watched her animals when Grey visited her children, according to some of the leads he had talked to. Paul laid the clipboard down on the seat next to him and started the big Ford 250 diesel. He backed up, making a three-point turn so he could head back down the mountain.

Turning onto the highway, he turned his windshield wipers on as the rain began to fall. He hoped to God that this Edna Grey could give him some information he could use. He was running out of leads.

He rubbed his chest over his heart. He knew his baby girl was still alive. He could feel her. It wasn’t like when Evelyn died.

Then, he knew she was gone. He could feel the emptiness in his heart. He had known something had happened before he received the phone call from his mom who had been visiting when Evelyn collapsed.

No, Trisha was still alive. He could feel her calling to him. It was almost as strong as the other feeling he had been having lately. That his life was about to change. He felt restless, as if something called to him, telling him that the emptiness he had felt for so long was about to be filled to overflowing.

Paul turned his blinker on and slowed to make the narrow turn onto the long, gravel driveway. He could see a large, two story house at the end of the drive through the rain-smeared windshield. A large wraparound porch seemed to welcome visitors to sit and stay for a while.

He pulled up along the curved drive in front of the steps and shut off the engine. Opening the door, he pulled his large Stetson down lower to protect his face from the cold drizzle. He strode over to the front steps of the porch, taking them two at a time.

A low barking sounded on the other side of the door. Before he could even raise his hand to knock, the door opened to reveal the soft face of a woman in her mid-sixties. She had her long, dark gray hair in a braid down her back and was dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans with a solid blue button up shirt tucked in at the waist. She didn’t say anything for a moment before she smiled and opened the screen door. A large golden retriever stood beside her with a lime green tennis ball in its mouth, its long tail wagging back and forth.

“Ms. Grey, my name is Paul Grove,” Paul said removing his hat and holding it between his hands nervously. “My daughter is Trisha Grove. She was the pilot of the plane returning your friend Abby Tanner.”

Edna nodded as tears filled her eyes. “Come in. I’ve been expecting someone to come.”

Paul bowed his head in acknowledgement as he walked on silent feet into the house. He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior. His eyes noticed everything in one sweep. He saw the photos of famous singers and actors mixed in with pictures of Edna’s family along one wall, before his eyes swept over the display case filled with awards.

“Follow me,” Edna said, moving toward the back of the house.

Paul glanced up the stairs, noting the worn but polished wood on the steps. His eyes moved to take in the formal sitting room before he passed by it. He followed Edna through the narrow hallway until they came into a bright, very modern kitchen. Large windows lined the back, letting in plenty of natural lighting. Edna waved him to sit at the worn, white table near the window while she put some water on to boil.

“I’m going to tell you a tale, Paul Grove. You are probably going to think I am a senile old woman who is living in a fantasy world. I’m not,” Edna said, looking pointedly at Paul with a firm, but reassuring smile. “Whether you want to believe me or not is up to you. I can only tell you what I know and what I suspect.”

“Is my daughter alive?” Paul asked in a deep, rough voice.

Edna smiled as the water boiled, not looking at Paul at first, but at the steam coming out of the top of the kettle. “Let me tell you my tale and then I will ask you that question.”

Edna poured the boiling water into two cups. She reached up and opened a cabinet and pulled out a couple of tea bags and placed them in the cups. Placing each cup on a saucer, she picked them up and carried them over to the table, setting one in front of Paul and the other in front of her seat before she sat down. The golden retriever came into the room and curled up at her feet, dropping the ball between his front paws before resting his chin on it with a small whine.

“Bo misses Abby,” Edna said before she blew on her tea and took a sip. “So do I but she is in a better place. At least, I believe she is.”

“Where do you think she is?” Paul asked, wrapping his cold hands around the cup, but not drinking any of the fragrant brew.

Edna released a sigh before she looked at Paul with clear, intelligent eyes. “Six months ago I dropped my dog, Bo, and my mule, Gloria, off at Abby’s place up in the mountains. Abby inherited the cabin from her grandparents. She was born and raised there and never planned to leave,” Edna explained, pausing to take a sip of her drink.

Paul didn’t say a word. He just waited until Edna was ready to continue. He found that if he waited and listened long enough, he would learn more than trying to rush a person’s story.

Edna nodded and smiled at Paul. “Abby would like you. You are a patient man, Paul Grove. Abby had been working on a fancy stained glass piece for the Boswells. Your daughter, Trisha, was the pilot on the flight I understand.”

“As well as three other women who I care about very much,” Paul agreed. “Trisha was the pilot. Two of her childhood friends were also on board as well as another young girl my daughter and Ariel had adopted under their care.”

“Yes, I read about them in the paper. It is what was not in the paper that you need to know,” Edna said leaning forward. “When I returned to pick up Bo and Gloria after visiting my son and daughter-in-law, I found Abby was no longer alone. There was a man there. He was unlike anything I had ever seen before. There was a wildness, a power to him that was not.... normal.”

Paul’s face tightened into an unmoving mask. “Do you think he hurt Abby?”

Edna shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “Just the opposite. I think he saved Abby…. and your daughter and the other women.”

“Why do you think that?” Paul asked stiffly. “You admit there was something off about him. What was different?”

The smile on Edna’s face faded as her eyes darkened with memories. “Because he loved her and swore that he would do everything in his power to protect her and make her happy. I believed him. You see, his name was Zoran Reykill and he was an alien from another world,” Edna said carefully.

Paul’s mouth tightened as he returned Edna’s unwavering stare. “You expect me to believe my daughter was kidnapped by aliens?” he asked in a deep, unemotional voice.

“Not kidnapped so much as rescued,” Edna responded lightly, taking a sip of her tea. “I told you I was concerned when I saw a strange man with Abby. You have to understand, Abby is a very quiet, reserved person. She does not open herself up to others very easily. She was perfectly happy being alone on her mountain. This man was extremely large, even bigger than you. He had black hair that hung down his back and solid gold eyes with elongated pupils. He understood what I was saying, but I was unable to understand him until….” her voice faded as she remembered the golden ship in the high meadow.

“Until….” Paul encouraged quietly.

“Until he took me to his spaceship,” Edna replied lightly. “Zoran took me up to the high meadow not far from the cabin. There was nothing there at first then out of nowhere a huge, golden spaceship appeared. It was floating above the ground by several feet. It was alive. I could see the swirling colors and it shivered as I approached it. Zoran touched it and a doorway with steps suddenly appeared. He took me inside. Seats of gold formed under us and a panel appeared. I could understand what he was saying while we were inside the golden ship.” Edna looked up at Paul with determination reflected in her eyes. “He told me he crashed on our world and Abby found him. She cared for him and he knew she was his true mate. He told me he was going to take her with him when he left. I’m not making this up. I have no proof, but what I have told you. Whether you want to believe me or not is up to you. Can you explain some of the things you’ve found? You are not the only one who has done your research, Mr. Grove. I know what evidence was left and I know what your background is. What have your findings suggested?” Edna pressed.

Paul tore his gaze from Edna’s to look out the window. He could see the barn where an old mule stood outside in the light rain. His eyes moved to the mountains in the distance before he turned his gaze back to the woman sitting across from him.

“That something not from this Earth was there,” he responded quietly.

Edna nodded slowly. “Now, I’ll ask you the question that you asked me. Is your daughter alive?” she asked quietly, laying her hand gently on top of his.

Paul looked down at his untouched cup of tea and swallowed over the lump in his throat. Tears burned the back of his eyes as he pictured his beautiful baby girl. He wondered if she was happy. If she was safe. If she missed him as much as he missed her. Paul looked up before he finally nodded.

“Yes, she is still alive. But, I don’t know what to do now. How can I bring her home if she was taken to another world?” Paul asked, voicing his fear to this woman who gave him the only answers that were beginning to make sense.

Edna sat back. “Something tells me she won’t be any happier being away from you than you are from her. If she is even half as tenacious as you are, it wouldn’t surprise me if the aliens return. When that time comes, perhaps it will not be for you to bring her home but for her to take you with her.”

Paul looked at Edna for several long moments. For the first time in six months, he felt hope beginning to build inside him. He spent the next hour with Edna. He asked her question after question trying to learn everything he could about this Zoran Reykill and his golden ship. He politely declined dinner telling Edna he had a lot of things to think about on the long drive home.

He nodded his head to Edna and Bo as he pulled away, heading back to his ranch. He made a series of calls on the long drive home. He had a lot of things to settle. If his baby girl had gone to the stars like she had always promised she was going to then he had a few things to set in place. He had promised her if she ever went he would be going with her.