Ancient Shores Read Online Free Page B

not.”
    She sat down across from him, tasted the coffee, and made a face. “You need some fresh brew.”
    He looked at her. “You’re working late.”
    “Headed for Jacksonville tomorrow.”
    That would be the annual open house at Cecil Field air show. He understood she’d been inspecting the C—47. “Everything all right?” he asked.
    “Five by.” She got up, put the cup down. “Gotta go.”
    He nodded. “See you whenever.”
    She looked at him for a long moment and then withdrew. He listened to the outer door open, heard it close.
    Damn.
    He punched the speed-dial button for the Laskers and listened to the phone ring on the other end. Ginny picked it up. “Hello?”
    “Hi, Ginny. What’s wrong? You okay?”
    “Yes. Thanks for calling, Max.” The hint of unease was still there. “I’m alright.” She hesitated. “But there’s something strange happening.”
    “What?”
    “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but Tom’s gone to Titusville and I haven’t been able to contact him.”
    “Why do you need him? What’s going on?”
    “Do you know about the boat we found here?”
    “Boat? No. Found where?”
    “Here. On the farm.”
    Max visualized the big wheat farm, acres and acres of flat land. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I’m not sure I understand.”
    “We found a boat, Max. Dug it up. It was buried. Hidden.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “Max, I’m not talking about a rowboat here. This thing’s a yacht . It’s been on TV.”
    “I guess I haven’t been paying much attention.”
    “Reason I called, I looked out the window earlier this evening and saw lights in the barn. It’s the boat.”
    “The boat is lit up?”
    “Yes. The boat is lit up.”
    “So somebody went in and turned the lights on? Is that what you’re saying?”
    “The barn’s locked. I don’t think the boat’s been touched. I think the lights came on by themselves. They’re running lights, long green lamps set in the bow.”
    Max still wasn’t sure he understood. “Who buried the boat?”
    “We don’t know, Max. As far as we can tell, nobody. At least, nobody recently.” Her voice shook.
    “You want me to come out?” She hesitated, and that was enough. “I’m on my way,” he said.
    “Thanks.” She sounded better already. “I’ll have Will meet you at the airport.”

3
    Here at the quiet limit of the world …
    —Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “Tithonus”
    If nothing else, it was an excuse to take the Lightning out again.
    Fort Moxie and the border are a hundred fifty miles north of Fargo. It was a starless night, and the landscape was dark, punctuated by occasional lights, farmhouses or lone cars on remote country roads.
    When he was in a cockpit, Max felt disconnected from his own life. It was as if all the mundane events of daily existence were directed toward the single purpose of getting him off the ground. The steady roar of the twin engines filled the night, and he thought how it must have been, flying alongside the B—17’s over Germany. He imagined himself strafing an ammunition train, watching it erupt into a ball of flame as he pulled up to engage two ME—109’s.
    He was grinning when he touched down at Fort Moxie International Airport. Will Lasker was waiting with a black Ford station wagon. The kid wore a jacket with a football letter, and he looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry you had to come all this way, Max,” he said. “I mean, we aren’t really scared of a light , but you know how women are.”
    Max nodded and threw his bag in the trunk.
    Will was full of information, describing how they had found the boat, what it looked like, how visitors were still showing up every day. “A lot of them think we put it in the hole.”
    “I can see,” said Max, “why they might think that.”
    Will hunched over the wheel, and the car left the lights of Fort Moxie behind and rolled out onto the dark prairie. “You’d have to be crazy to think that,” he said, as if Max hadn’t spoken. “If we had a