Fly by Night (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 3) Read Free Page B

the dissenters, who had the setting sun at their backs. She recognized Ben Richter and several people from town, but there were a lot of unfamiliar faces, who, in Gracie’s quick assessment, had to be ringers. Some applause broke out as the congressman and a couple of aides stepped down from the makeshift plywood platform. D. B. pumped the politician’s hand and then made a little jump to reach the small podium.
    D. B. Jackson seemed to fill the platform. Imposing at well over six feet, he had broad shoulders, a square jaw, and ham-like hands that smoothed his shirt. He took off a white cowboy hat and wiped his gleaming forehead with a handkerchief. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked tight to his head. Replacing the hat, he grabbed the microphone. Gracie and Jim edged closer through the crowd toward the platform to get a better view.
    “Well, folks, you heard our good Congressman Streeker. Renewable energy is just what I want to promote here in the Deer Creek area. Our economy can use the help, and as a dairy farmer, I can say these windmills haven’t done a bit of damage to my herd or to other herds in the county. The Jackson Hilltop Farm over in Strykersville has been sharing space with these windmills, and milk production is up. Sure, they’re big, but they’re doing a lot of good. In a few years, everybody’ll see how they’re benefiting the local economy and providing cheap, clean energy for us.” He mopped his head with his red handkerchief again and smiled broadly at the crowd. The microphone squealed when he drew it back to his face.
    Before he could continue, a man shouted from the group of protesters.
    “What about all that greenhouse gas you’re making up there on your farm? When are you going to stop polluting the ground water?”
    A woman, waving a sign that said “Free the Cows,” called to D. B. “You’re just a big hypocrite!”
    Gracie kept her eyes on Ben Richter, who looked like the Cheshire cat. His arms were folded across his chest. She nudged Jim.
    “That’s the guy who stopped at the house.”
    “I’ve seen him around town. Hey, watch out!”
    Jim suddenly ducked, pulling her to the ground as a small rock came flying overhead. It thumped harmlessly on the soft ground behind them. A shower of small rocks scattered across the platform as a surge of people ran toward D. B. The majority, meanwhile, hightailed it for their cars.
    D. B. jumped off the platform. A group of men in suits hustled him into a black SUV. Two state trooper cars had pulled up, lights flashing and sirens blaring.
    “What’s happening?” Gracie shouted over the noise of the crowd and sirens.
    She and Jim crouched in the hedgerow that separated the field from the woods.
    “Beats me. Let’s get out of here!”
    Jim grabbed her hand, and they ran back up the road to his pickup. They sat in the truck for a moment, catching their breath as cars and trucks sped past the shaded lane. They could hear someone on a bullhorn, bellowing instructions to regain order.
    “What in the Sam Hill just happened?” Jim demanded. His face was pale under his tan.
    “Somebody started a brawl, I think,” Gracie gasped. Her heart was still pounding. “It must have been the Renew Earth group, don’t you think?”
    “I’d better go back up there and see if the cops need help. You stay here.”
    “No way. I want to know what’s going on.”
    She was already getting out of the truck. Jim shrugged and rolled his eyes.
    “You head right back here if there’s any more trouble, okay?” His voice had a no-nonsense tone. She nodded.
    She rewound her hair, which had completely tumbled out of the hair clip, and fastened it more securely. Brushing the dirt off her blue shirt and frowning at the grass stains on her jeans, she trotted after Jim.
    The crowd had thinned to a handful by the time they got back to the field. Toby was talking to one of the deputies, waving his hands toward the sky. D. B. had a trickle of blood running down his