Yachats, Oregon

“Mike! You have company,” Patty called from the reception area.

Mike grimaced and wiped at the damp stain on his shirt where he’d spilled his coffee. It was going to be one of those days; he could feel it. It started out with his sister, Ruth, calling at an ungodly hour to inform him that she would be coming by for a visit. He could thank his birthday for that wonderful occasion.

“Just a minute,” Mike answered, dropping the file folder on his desk.

He placed the cup of coffee he had picked up at the café down the street on a folded paper towel that showed the evidence of his spillage from the days before. Hell, who was he kidding, the whole week had been one mishap after another. With a shake of his head, he grabbed a crumpled napkin from the bag of bagels he had added to his order at the last minute.

“I got you an Everything bagel,” Mike grunted, not looking up when he heard the footsteps stop outside the door.

“Thank you, but I’ve already eaten,” an unfamiliar voice replied.

“Oh, hey Mike, did you remember the cream cheese this time?” Patty asked, peering around the slender Asian man watching him with a slightly amused expression.

“Yeah, I got extra,” Mike replied, absently wiping at the wet spot on his dark blue dress shirt. “Can I help you?”

Mike ran his gaze over the man, quickly picking out and storing details: early 30s, approximately five feet ten inches, brown eyes, thin scar near his left eye. The creases pressed into his dress slacks, the polished black shoes, and the precision cut of his hair indicated he was military or former military. The man’s gaze was taking in everything about Mike and his office, and Mike figured that made him Military Intelligence.

“Yes,” came the short reply.

“I forgot your cappuccino, Patty. Why don’t you go get it. I’ll cover the phones,” Mike suggested, holding out the bag with the bagels in it.

“Are you sure?” Patty asked, briefly glancing at the man who had stepped aside to allow her to enter.

Mike’s lips twitched when Patty jerked her eyes as if trying to convey a secret message to him. “I’m sure,” he replied in a dry tone.

“Oh, okay. Well, I won’t be but a few minutes. If you need me, just call,” Patty said, clutching the bag to her chest and turning to look up at their guest. “The café is like, right next door. The walls are thin—really thin, as in tissue paper thin if you know what I mean.”

“Patty, go,” Mike ordered in exasperation.

“Geez, I’m going,” Patty muttered.

Mike remained standing until he heard the bell on the front door chime before he waved a hand to the seat across from him. He waited for the man to sit down before he took his seat. Gathering up the photographs that had spilled out of the file folder he dropped earlier, he tucked them back in and set it aside before sitting back in his chair.

“Now, what can I do for you Mr…,” Mike began.

“Tanaka—Agent Asahi Tanaka, CIA,” Asahi replied, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out his identification.

Mike leaned forward and took the slim leather wallet. Opening it, he scanned the credentials inside before closing the wallet and handing it back. Asahi returned the wallet to his pocket.

“So, what brings the CIA to Yachats, Oregon?” Mike asked.

“The file you have on your desk, Detective Hallbrook,” Asahi replied.

Mike’s gaze immediately went to the creased, coffee-stained folder. He needed to replace it. He’d been carrying this one around so much that it was almost worn out. He pressed his lips together and looked up at the man sitting across from him.

“What does the disappearance of two women have to do with the CIA?” Mike asked, clasping his hands together and forming a steeple with his two index fingers. “I could understand the FBI, but the CIA? That is pushing it, unless you think that Carly Tate and Jenny Ackerly were spies working for a foreign government.”

Asahi’s gaze moved from Mike to the file and back again. His lips pursed together for a moment before he relaxed, and his expression became unreadable. Mike had no doubt that this man spent more time out in the field than pushing papers.

“I’m not at liberty to explain, but yes, there is an interest in their disappearance,” Asahi said with a slight bow of his head.

Mike leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. A frown creased his brow as he thought about what the two women could have done to bring them to the attention of the CIA. Everything and everyone he talked to made him think that Carly and Jenny were just two ordinary U.S. citizens who happened to know each other and be in the same place when they disappeared.

“If you aren’t at liberty to tell me, then why are you here?” Mike sarcastically asked.

“You’ve been studying this case for a while,” Asahi said.

“Since I took over here,” Mike replied with a nod.

“Have you discovered anything… unusual about their disappearance?” Asahi inquired.

Mike didn’t miss the way Asahi’s eyes flickered to the file and back again. The man wanted to look at it. Mike could feel it in his bones. Curious, he placed his left hand on the file and pushed it toward the agent.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Mike suggested.

They locked gazes for a brief moment before Asahi reached out to the take the file. Mike held the file long enough for Asahi to know that the information wouldn’t come without a price. There was a brief flash of annoyance in Asahi’s eyes.

“The information is need-to-know only,” Asahi explained in a quiet voice.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “I need to know,” he responded with a wry smile.

“How long have you lived in Yachats, Detective Hallbrook?” Asahi asked, pulling the folder toward him and opening it when Mike released it and sat back in his chair again.

“A couple of years,” Mike replied. “Why?”

“Have you noticed anything unusual during the time you’ve lived here?” Asahi asked, slowly thumbing the notes and documents that Mike had collected.

“Define strange,” Mike said dryly. “We have our share of unusual individuals who live in the area, but no one I would classify as dangerous.”

“Dangerous is not necessarily what I am searching for,” Asahi replied, pausing on a handwritten document comparing Carly and Jenny’s disappearance. “May I have a copy of this file?”

“What in the hell is going on, Agent Tanaka?” Mike demanded.

Asahi looked up at Mike. His gaze was deadly serious. Mike’s stomach clenched when the man hesitated and closed the file.

“Aliens,” Asahi said at the same time as the front door chimed.

“Mike, I’m back! Did we get any phone calls? Is that weir… Oh, he’s still here,” Patty said, stopping in the doorway.

Mike rose at the same time as Asahi. They gazed at each other for a moment. Mike wondered if he’d heard the man correctly while Asahi waited for Mike’s response to his request for copies.

“I was just leaving,” Asahi stated, holding out the file.

“Patty can make you a copy of the files and send them to you,” Mike said, lost in thought even as he reached for the file.

“Thank you. I will leave my information with her,” Asahi replied, stepping around the chair

Mike looked down at the file in his hand. He could feel his head starting to shake in disbelief. He looked up as Asahi started to step through the door.

“Tanaka…,” Mike called.

Asahi turned and looked back at Mike. He studied the other man’s closed expression.

“Yes.”

“Are you serious?” Mike asked.

“Completely. Have a good day, Detective Hallbrook. I’m sure we will meet again,” Asahi said before turning and leaving.

Mike stood by his desk, his gaze blindly fixed on the empty doorway. It wasn’t until he noticed Patty’s return that he shook his head and sank down in his chair again. He looked up when she stopped in front of the desk.

“Are you shitting me? CIA? What the hell is going on?” Patty breathed.

Mike shook his head. “When you find out, let me know,” he wryly retorted. “Can you…?”

“Yeah, he gave me his info,” Patty said, anticipating what he was about to ask her to do. She picked up the file and shook her head in awe. “Who would have thought there would be so much excitement in this sleepy little town!”

Mike watched Patty turn and walk out the door. He knew that half the town would know about Agent Tanaka’s visit by dinner. The rest would know by morning. Rising out of his seat, Mike grabbed his coffee and stepped around the desk. It was a good thing he hadn’t removed his jacket this morning.

“Patty, I’m going out for a while,” he yelled, heading for the back door of the police station.

Pushing the door open, he stepped outside. The thin layer of morning fog had settled into a dense curtain. A grim smile lifted the corner of his mouth. No fishing today; it looked like a good day to pay a visit to someone who had lived here all their life and knew both women.

Turning left, Mike decided it would be safer to walk than drive. It would also give him time to absorb what Tanaka had said. The guy asked if he had noticed anything unusual—besides the disappearance of the two women.

“Only some crazy CIA agent who thinks that aliens or monsters might actually exist,” Mike muttered with a shake of his head.

* * *

Mike paused on the sidewalk outside of the bar that was popular with the locals. It was located at the entrance to one of the marinas favored by the fishermen in the area. Old trawlers lined the docks. They were a stark contrast to the newer, more expensive pleasure crafts located at the city’s marina.

“Ross Galloway?” Mike asked an old man exiting the bar.

“Inside,” the man said.

“Don’t drive,” Mike warned when he smelled the beer on the old man’s breath.

“Can’t, truck broke down,” the man mumbled.

Mike started to groan. It wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning yet. The curse on his lips died when he saw an old woman in a red coat step around the corner. The old man perked up and wobbled towards her.

He listened as the woman lovingly chided the man before wrapping her arm around his waist. Mike watched as the two disappear into the fog. Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it, he returned his attention to his mission. He pulled the door open and stepped into the warm interior of the bar.

Even though it was early, the place had nearly a dozen people sitting around, shooting the breeze with each other, eating, or playing pool. The smell of bacon made his stomach growl, reminding him that he had grabbed his coffee, but Patty had commandeered the extra bagel he purchased earlier. Glancing around the dim interior, his gaze stopped on Ross Galloway sitting at a table near the back.

Mike strode through the room, nodding to those who called out a greeting. Ross looked up from where he was sitting and scowled when he saw Mike heading his way. Ignoring the frown, Mike pulled out the chair across from Ross and sat down.

“Hey, Mike. What’ll you be having?” Dorothy asked from behind the bar.

“Two eggs over medium, bacon, hash browns, and whole wheat… and a coffee,” Mike replied before turning his attention to Ross.

Ross picked up his fork and stabbed at the scrambled eggs on his plate. Ross was about the same age as Mike, with a stocky, muscular body and dark shaggy hair that was as wild as Ross’s reputation. Mike sat back in his seat when Dorothy brought his coffee out.

“Thank you,” Mike said with an appreciative smile.

“No problem. More coffee, Ross?” Dorothy asked.

Ross grunted and pushed his cup closer to the coffee pot that Dorothy was holding. He muttered a thanks under his breath. Mike sat forward when Dorothy walked off. He cradled his coffee cup between his hands, staring at the dark brown liquid.

“I told you, I didn’t do anything,” Ross finally said.

“I know,” Mike replied.

Ross lifted his head and studied Mike’s face for a moment before he resumed eating his breakfast. “So, why are you here then?” he asked in a blunt tone.

“I was hungry,” Mike replied.

Ross shot him a look that told Mike he didn’t believe him. Amusement swept through Mike when he thought of what Ross’s expression would be like if he asked the man if he’d ever seen any aliens hanging around. As much as he wanted to dismiss Tanaka’s visit as a ludicrous joke, he couldn’t. The man had been far too serious.

“Here you go, hun. Do you need anything else?” Dorothy asked, placing Mike’s food on the table in front of him.

“No, this is fine. Thanks, Dorothy,” Mike replied.

“I’ll bring more coffee in a few. You doing okay, Ross?” Dorothy asked.

“I’m good. Thanks, Dorothy,” Ross said.

Mike waited for Dorothy to walk away before he started eating. The food was hot and the coffee strong. Mike didn’t say anything at first. He often found that silence could do two things: give a man time to think or allow the other man time to stew. As the silence grew, Mike decided Ross was a thinker—which surprised him. He honestly thought the other man was more emotional and more likely to react than think.

Dorothy came by and refilled both of their cups, and both men finished eating before Mike spoke. Picking up his cup, he held it between his hands as he thought about how he should phrase his question. Each question he came up with sounded even more ridiculous than the one before.

“If you want to know something, just spit it out; that usually works,” Ross suggested.

Mike looked up from his coffee to see Ross gazing at him with a wary expression. “Have you ever noticed anything strange around here?” he asked.

Ross raised one eyebrow and had an expression that asked Mike if he was shitting him. Mike grimaced. That wasn’t what he’d planned to ask at all—or at least, not in those exact words.

“Well, let’s see. Two women disappear, both talked to me, the cops keep sniffing around—no, nothing strange. Why do you ask?” Ross answered in a dry tone.

Mike set his coffee cup down on the table before running a hand over his face. He couldn’t blame Ross for being slightly sarcastic. Hell, he would be too if he had been in Ross’s position.

“You’ve lived here your whole life, right?” Mike countered, sitting forward and resting his elbows on the table.

“So,” Ross replied.

Mike gritted his teeth in frustration. “So, have you ever noticed anything strange—weird—possibly extraterrestrial, even. Any unexplained anomalies, creatures, or things,” he bit out.

Ross’s expression changed from defiant to confused. “Anomalies—like Bigfoot or a mermaid?” he asked with an incredulous expression.

A scowl darkened Mike’s face. “No, I’m not talking Bigfoot or mermaids—well, maybe. Have you seen anything that may not be normal?” he snapped in a low voice.

Ross nodded and glanced around him before leaning forward. Mike’s fingers tightened on his coffee cup. He shot a quick look to make sure they couldn’t be overheard before he leaned closer to Ross.

“I heard about this really strange detective who was asking dumbass questions about UFO’s,” Ross murmured.

Mike jolted back when Ross started laughing. The flash of anger turned into a chuckle of appreciation when Ross shot him a good-natured grin. Shaking his head, he lifted his coffee and finished it off.

“Do you guys need anything else?” Dorothy asked, coming up from behind Mike.

“Naw, tell Dennis the food was good as usual,” Ross replied, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“You’re just saying that so he doesn’t kick your ass out of here,” Dorothy teased, taking the twenty Ross was holding out.

“I’ll take my bill as well, Dorothy,” Mike said.

“Did you ever find out what happened to those two missing women? I have to tell you, it gives me the creeps thinking there might be a murderer on the loose around here,” Dorothy commented.

“The cases are still open,” Mike said, pulling out the money for his breakfast. “Keep the change.”

“A customer after my own heart,” Dorothy cheerfully replied with a quick grin at Ross.

Ross rose from his seat and shot a pained look at Mike. “Make the poor fisherman look bad,” he said.

Dorothy shook her head. “I’ve seen your boat, Ross. I almost feel guilty taking your money—almost,” she chuckled as she walked away.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Ross muttered. “Do you have anything else to ask me?”

“No—just… if you see or hear about anything unusual, please let me know,” Mike said, rising out of his chair.

“If I see Bigfoot, I’ll point you to him. If I see a mermaid, it might take me a while to report her if she‘s hot,” Ross chuckled.

“I’ll make a note of that,” Mike dryly replied.

Mike followed Ross out of the pub. The morning fog had cleared, and he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. He watched Ross turn and walk down to the docks.

Drawing in a deep breath, he shook his head. He automatically reached down when he felt his cell phone vibrate. Pulling it out of his back pocket, he released a groan at the message that flashed across the screen.

He quickly typed a reply. The immediate response of hearts and happy faces filled up the screen. He loved his sister, but she had to be the worst cook in the world. He never did have the heart to tell her that even her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches weren’t all that great. It looked like he would be making a grocery store run on the way home this afternoon.

He was just about to shove his cell phone back into his pocket when it vibrated again. This time it was Patty. There was a reported break-in at one of the residences down by the cove. His plan to take a ride out to Yachats State Park today would have to wait another day. With a sigh, Mike started walking back along the sidewalk to the police station.