Truth Avenged (Green Division Series Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter Six

She sifted through photo, after photo, after photo of planes on the internet.  Then she found it.  That was the plane!  Holy shit!  A Grumman Avenger.  She read up on the history of it, it was used heavily in WWII for many purposes and was commissioned through the 1960’s.  It was a three person aircraft: a pilot, a radar mid seat gunner, and rear turret operator.  Now she had somewhere to start.  She didn’t know what this would turn out to be in the end, but she was farther than she’d been the day prior.  She typed in the search bar yet again.

Grumman Avenger crash Maine

But again, no results.

Where would one go to
find answers?  The time period was WWII.  For sure.  The journal, the photo, it matched.  So, where to go? 
The local historical society!  Yes!

She got herself dressed a
nd headed to the historical society.  The man who greeted her couldn’t be any nicer.  He was happy to talk to her about the town’s history during the war, but his stories didn’t relate to her inquiry.  She learned all about the historic buildings in the small town, including the Regal Movie Theater and many other downtown businesses.  And of course the great fire of 1920.  But, it wasn’t what she was looking for.

“
I guess what I’m looking for specifically, is do you know anything about one of these aircrafts going down in the woods about an hour north of here?”  She showed him a picture.  “It’s a Grumman Avenger.”

“
I’m sorry, I don’t.  I’ve never heard of any plane crashing in these woods.  I was born in 1950 and raised in Tranton, I’d know if there was any sort of incident such as that.  I’m afraid I don’t know what to tell you.”

“
Thank you for your time.”

“
You’re welcome.  Feel free to come back anytime with friends, we don’t get many visitors.”  He smiled and waved as she left.  The man had a bow tie around his neck and certainly was a throwback to the 1950’s.

That had been a dead end.  What next?  She let
her reporter instincts kick in. 
The VFW
.  She would crash their next bingo night, or whatever event she saw open and fish there.  There had to be a few vets kicking around from that era, or older people who lived in the town in that timeframe.  If nothing else, the old bingo players would be able to point her in the right direction.

Fate smiled up
on her.  As luck would have it, the bingo hall was open that night.  She did just as she planned, but the veterans looked at her like she had not two, but five heads. 

Dead end numero dos.
             

The dead bolt opened with a click and she tossed her purse on the counter.  Where was that six pack she
’d wanted the other night?

Her phone rang.  It was Amy returning her call.

“Thanks so much for ratting me out to Paul.”

“
What was I supposed to do?  You scare the hell outta me.”

“
Come over and have a drink with me, I need some company.”

She wanted to forget everything that h
ad happened in the past couple weeks.  And Amy knew how to have fun.

“
I wish I could.  Candice and Keith are fighting like they are, well, their age.  And Tom is about as helpful as nothing.  I’d love to run away, but I can’t.  I’m sorry.”

Amy
used
to know how to have fun.

“
No worries.  You have a family and aren’t footloose and fancy free.”

“
You live the dream Chance.  I’m envious.  Enjoy it.”

Oh yes, envious of me.  The girl who lives alone, has no kids, and is chasing ghosts.  FUN.
 

“
I’m envious of you.  I’ll catch up with you later.”

“
Night, hun.”

The only Mike
’s Lemonade in Chance’s fridge drained itself without any help from her.  Okay, it had a little help.  She pulled out her computer and typed away ideas.  Historical society and VFW were crossed off from the top of the list.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

She answered the door.

“
Oh.  Hi, Paul.”  She expected a different face, not that Anderson Cooper was a bad sight.

“
I come baring gifts.”  He handed her a bouquet of flowers and held a bag in the other hand.

“
Thank you.”  She smiled and walked into the kitchen withdrawing a vase. 

“
That’s all I get?  Not even a hug?  I’ve called you all day and you ignore your better half.”

“
I’ve been busy.” 

“
Doing what?”

“
Stuff.”  Nope, she wasn’t talking about this to Paul.

“
Stuff.  What’s up with you?  You aren’t yourself.”  He put his hand on her waist.  “What’s wrong with my Chance?”

“
Nothing.  I’ve been cleaning the house and relaxing, just like the doctor told me.”  It was somewhat true.  “And not hiking.  Since you will tattle on me to a warden if I do.”

“
It’s for your own good. Onto a more important topic. I brought some dinner over from Kelsey’s on my way here.”  Kelsey’s Bistro was their favorite place to grab a bite on lunch breaks.  “We need to grab dinner there soon.  It’s been a while.  My treat.”

“
You know how to treat a girl.”

“
I try.  Now answer your phone from now on.”

Another knock at the d
oor, wasn’t she a popular girl.

“
I’ll get it.  You get the place settings, I’m starving.”

Paul opened the door.  Both
men stared blankly at one another. 

“
Can I help you?”

“
I was looking for Chance.  Did I come at a bad time?”

“
She’s getting our dinner ready.  Who are you?”  Paul said protective.

“
Paul, who is it?”  She yelled from the kitchen.

"Paul."  He finally could
put a face with the name. 

“
Yes.  And who are you?” 

Tuck
’s eyes narrowed and the friction between them instantly changed.

“
Warden Johnston?”  Paul figured it out.

“
Guilty as charged,” Tuck said dryly.

“
Who is it?”  Chance came from the kitchen and peered into the living room.  She smiled and walked to greet him.

“
Hi Tuck.”

“
I, ah, I came at a bad time.”

“
No, no.  Come in.  Paul brought enough for three, didn’t you?” 

Paul brought dinner
. 
He is more than a “friend”.
Tuck thought.

Paul
’s eyes weren’t inviting. 

“
There’s plenty if you’d like to join us,” Paul said out of obligation.

“
I didn’t mean to crash your date.  I’ll catch up with you later.  Enjoy your dinner.”

Paul held his hand out. 

“Nice to meet you.”  He was genuine and thankful to Tuck, but there was no danger of them becoming friends.

“
You too.”  Tuck returned.  Another lie.

Chance wanted to fill Tuck in on her disco
very, but not with Paul there.

“
Good night.”  Chance said disappointed.

Chapter Seven

Mornings were not enjoyable.  Chance fought for sleep every night and by the time she eventually passed out, the sun’s beams would peak through her blinds waking her.  It hurt to drag her ass out of bed, hurt to shower, hurt to move.  When she got herself moving and motivated, the pain could be forgotten.  If she sat idle around the house, it was all she focused on. 

She got herself ready for the day and prepared for the hour and a half drive south.  The Maine State Library was the largest library in Maine and had a vast amount of news
archives compiled dating before the 1900’s. 

It was a large stately building seated in the capital.  It had been a long time since she
’d set foot in a library.  With modern technology including electronic book readers where one could download a book on demand from the convenience of their homes, libraries had become outdated.

“
Can I help you?” A man in his young twenties asked as she approached the help desk.  He didn’t seem excited to help, but she took him up on the offer.

“
I’m looking for your newspaper archives.  Specifically the
Tranton Times
, or
Portland Daily
, World War Two era.”

“
Follow me.”  He led her to the back of the library where there were a handful of computers specifically set up for her task.

“
Do you have a specific date you are researching?”

“
After April of 1943.”  That was the last date entered in the journal.  “And probably before the sixties.”

“
Wow.  You might be here awhile.”  He didn’t offer to jump in and help her.  “We are working on putting our microfiche in a computer database, but for now I’m afraid we still have mostly the old fashioned film version. You can search the computer first, but you’ll most likely have to dig.”

Chance went to work starting on the computer.  They had the
Times
and
Daily
in the database, but only as far back as 1970.  Anything previous to that was on film.  She started moving to the film itself.  A daunting task.  She spent the day pouring through film, after film.  She’d arrived at nine when the library opened and it was going on closing time when the young skipper returned to her side. 

“
Ma’am, did you find what you were looking for?”  

Obviously she hadn
’t found what she was looking for.  If she had, she wouldn’t have still been there. 

“
No.”  She pushed the chair back.

“
We’re closing for the night.  We open at 9 a.m. tomorrow if you need to continue searching.”

It could take her months to pour through all of these papers with no guarantee
of an answer.

“
What are you looking for?”

Chance thought about how to word it.  She passed him a photo of the Grumm
an Avenger. 

"This."

“It’s a Grumman Avenger.”  He looked at her peculiarly.  “Used back in World War Two into the 1960’s.”

What the hell were the odds
this little boy would know that?  Her mouth gaped.

“
What else do you know?”

“
I know that it is closing time and I want to go home.”  He looked at the wall clock.  It was five minutes past closing.

“
Did these fly in Maine?”

“
They flew everywhere.”  He gave her the photo back.  “They were one of the most mass produced planes during the war.  Several countries flew them, not only ours.  If you’d told me you were looking for that, I would have pointed you to a history book.”

“
Specifically, where would they have flown in Maine?” 

“
I don’t know.  There were military bases in Brunswick and Loring.  That’d be my best guess.  I learned about the plane on a trip to the Land and Air Museum, I didn’t major in it.”  He said sarcastically.

Military bases.  What a good investigative journalist she was, she should have figured that out on her own.  She grabbed the papers sh
e’d brought with her and gave the punk kid a hug, thankful despite his smugness.

“
Thank you!” 

“
Uh, anytime.”  He smiled and his hand wandered onto her backside in their quick embrace.  She pushed back and rushed out the building, not caring that junior had copped a feel.

Loring Air Base had been converted into a training center of sorts
in the 1990’s.  It was where adults went to school to learn a trade, truck driving, welding, etc.  Brunswick had been decommissioned and turned into a private airport.  If they had remained military installations, she might have had a hope for finding some information.  With them being converted into civilian installations, she didn’t know what leads they would yield.

From her Jeep,
she called Loring on her cell.  The administrative assistant was less than useless. 

“
The military wouldn’t leave behind confidential records for the public to view,” the assistant said snidely.  At what point had Maine turned into such an unfriendly place?  She’d stumbled upon the friendlies today.

She called Brunswick expecting no more than what Loring had provided.  She spoke to what would be the dispatch center of sorts for the small airport.  They had little more information for her.  She asked if they knew anyone who might be able to give h
er some history on the Avenger and its history at Brunswick, for a piece she was writing. 

“
One of our janitors has worked at this base since the early 1960’s in a civilian capacity.  He’s not a historian, but worked around those types of aircrafts all those years ago.  He’s your best bet.  Call back after 7 a.m. tomorrow, he’ll be working.  Ask for Tim.”

“
Thank you so much.”

The trip to Augusta had not been worthless.  Mr. Tim would be her first call in the morning.  She wanted to wish the following thirt
een hours away, excited by her progress. 

*****

Tuck was
in his garage.  He’d spent all night there upon returning from Chance’s early in the evening.  The workbench spilled over with parts his state job didn’t pay nearly enough to buy.  He’d been shoulder deep in this mustang all week.  The body was ready.  It needed a professional paint job and was good to go.  He’d finished re-upholstering the inside restoring it to its original state.  All that remained were a few cosmetic details.  He wiped his hands and dropped into the driver's seat.  He said a silent prayer and turned the engine over.  It roared to life. 

"Ah yes, baby. Shi
t, I’m good.”  He flexed the gas pedal and ran his hand across the dash admiring his work as it came to life. 
This must be what it feels like to have a child
, he thought. 

“
You finally took the time to fix Eleanor.”  A voice came from the doorway.  “Too bad it took getting hurt to slow you down.” 

In the breezeway stood a blond haired woman the same age as Tuck.  She was we
ll put together and had an air of class.  She was dressed in black open toed heels, dark blue jeans, a form fitting white sweater, and a blue/white/green knit scarf wrapped loosely around her neck.

She stepped into the garage and leaned against the car.  T
uck turned the key back. 

“
Come on in.”  He said sarcastically.  What he really wanted to tell her was to get the fuck off of his car.

“
Don’t be like that.”

“
Right.  Because I’m the bad guy here.”  He climbed out of the Mustang and went back to work under the hood.

The blame isn
’t all on me, Tucker.  You had your part in this.”

Tuck put the wrench in his hand down.  “
How the hell did I have a part in you fucking your boss, the fucking DA?  Do you know how embarrassing that was?”

“
I didn’t plan on it happening—it just, happened.  It was one time and didn’t mean anything, it was a mistake.”  She defended herself.

Tuck went back to tinkering.  He could have done without seeing her
that day.  Or ever.  His ex-girlfriend was an Assistant District Attorney and the District Attorney took her under his wing.  And under his sheets. 

“
You weren’t around either.  You had no time for me.”

Their lives separately were hectic.  Together it was nearly impossible to schedule time.  It was a lost cause to start with.

“Get to the point Claire.”

“
I miss you.”

“
Mmm.  He wouldn’t leave his wife for you, would he?”

“
NO!  That’s not it at all.  I broke it off with him.  I don’t love him.”  She wrapped her arms around his center and leaned her head against his shoulder blade.   “I love you baby.  I’m sorry.”

“
If you loved me, you wouldn’t have fucked him.”

“
There’s nothing I can do to change that.  If I could, I would go back in a heartbeat.  I didn’t do it to hurt you.  I was stressed and confused.”

Tuck rolled his eyes though she c
ouldn’t see it from her position.

“
I want to make us work.”  She held his sides.  “Will you please look at me Tucker.”

He turned and faced her.

“I’m sorry.”  She held the sides of his face.  “Please.  I’m standing in front of you begging for your forgiveness and a chance to earn back your love and trust.”

Chance
.

She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.  It was the one thing that woman could do right.

*****

"Tuck
!  Answer your phone!”  Chance hit the end button.  He was the only one she could tell her excited prospects too.  She dialed again.  “Come on, come on, come on.” 

Still no answer.
 
Sigh
.  She would have to contain her excitement.

She put a lot of stress on herself and knew it.  After twelve hours combined on the road and buried in the
library, she didn’t have the energy to take her shoes or clothes off before she collapsed on the bed.  She laid face down and sprawled out taking up the entire bed.  Abby, starved for attention, harassed her to no end.

“
Leave...me...alone.”  She mumbled, her mouth muffled by the pillow.  Her phone rang.  She groaned. 

“
Hello.”  She hit the answer button without checking the Caller ID.

“
You called?”

“
Tuck!”  She pulled herself to her elbows.  “I needed to talk to someone!”

“
Where’s Paul?”

“
Working.”  She didn’t catch on to his slightly put out tone.  “So, I found what the aircraft was!  A Grumman Avenger, World War Two era.  I went to the historical society, but they couldn’t give me anything.  Then I went to the VFW, they were even less helpful.  I wanted to tell you yesterday, but Paul and his bad timing.  An’ today I spent the day down at the State Library.  Of all people, it was a little punk kid who worked at the desk that gave me some ideas since I found nothing in the archives.  Brunswick and Loring, the plane had to be from one of those bases.  I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”  She rambled it off very fast and was far too excited for what little bit she’d found out.

“
That’s your lead?”  They were airports, big deal.  “Decommissioned airports?”

“
I know.”  She noticed he wasn’t his usual chipper self.  “Am I bothering you?”

When did Tuck turn into a jealous ass?  He
’d misdirected his frustration.  “Sorry, I’m tired.  I don’t mean to be unfriendly.”

“
You’re the only one I can tell.  The only one I trust.”  She turned onto her back.  “Unfortunate for you, huh.  It’s late, I won’t bother you.”

“
You never bother me, Chance.”  That was the truth.  He turned off his jealous jackass lever.  “Did you get any other leads?”

“
From Loring, nothing.  From Brunswick, I’m talking to a janitor tomorrow.”

“
A janitor?  What would a janitor know?”

“
Everything.  A janitor would know the base inside and out.  He’s been there since the early sixties.  I have a feeling he’s gonna know something.  I don’t know why, but I do.”

“
You seem happy tonight.”  He closed the hood of the Mustang and walked into his house. 

“
A little.”

“
Good.”  Tuck washed his hands, opened the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of Sam Adams.  He wished he could see the smile on her face that was clearly coming across from her upbeat voice.