Road Less Traveled by Cris Ramsay

enough.
    The office phone rang, and Jo snatched up the receiver immediately. “Sheriff’s office, Deputy Lupo speaking.” She put extra emphasis on the word “deputy.” “Uh-huh. Okay, we’ll be right there. Thanks.”
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Carter asked, getting to his feet.
    â€œThat was Mrs. Murphy, who lives over on Kasold,” Jo explained, standing as well. “She just got a remote alert that something’s breached her house’s privacy fence.”
    â€œAh, okay.” Carter hitched up his belt. “I’ll check it out. Why don’t you collect Fargo and start making those inquiries about fences and whatnot for the Thunderbird? We’re running out of time on tracking it down before it hatches.” He’d already struck out with the containment fields; the maintenance guys at GD had told him that all the labs used the same basic field for their experiments and just modified it as necessary, so anyone in the building would know how the field worked and how to shut it off or at least cut through it. That included maintenance and security but not the janitorial staff, so at least they knew the janitor hadn’t done it. But they still had a building full of suspects, plus anyone outside who had access to similar equipment. Which put the ball squarely in Jo’s court for now.
    She grimaced but nodded. “Fine, I’ll go get him.” She paused. “You know, I may ask Taggart what he knows about all this.”
    â€œGood idea.” Taggart was the resident expert on wild animals and strange creatures, as well as their local hunter. He might know something about the Thunderbird that would make it easier to catch. He also might have some ideas on who would want such an unusual animal, and ways they could get it out of Eureka without setting off any alarms.
    And Jo was definitely the one to ask him about it. Taggart had harbored a major crush on her for years—like many of the men in Eureka—but she had actually dated him for a while. That had ended shortly before she started going out with Zane, but she and Taggart were still close, and he’d be far more likely to tell her what he knew, especially if it was something he wasn’t supposed to talk about.
    â€œLet me know how it goes,” Carter said as they both headed out the door. Jo nodded and turned to her car, while he stepped over to his Jeep. As usual, Jo peeled out first. Carter just laughed and shook his head, then he pulled out and took off in the direction of Kasold Drive. Time to see about a privacy fence.
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    It didn’t take much deduction to figure out which house belonged to Mrs. Murphy. The street was lined with handsome ranches and Tudors, all with nice big lawns and long driveways. Eureka had plenty of space, so all its residents could have big homes and large yards.
    But only one of those yards was throwing off sparks.
    He pulled up across the street and got out. A handful of kids were lingering nearby, eyeing the crackling stretch of grass, and Carter ambled over to them. “What’s going on?” he asked.
    One of the boys—they looked to be around junior high age—shrank back, but the other three stood their ground. None of them said anything for a second, however. And none of them met his eyes.
    Carter was both a cop and a dad. He knew guilt when he saw it.
    â€œOkay, somebody had better start talking,” he warned, “or I’m going to get irritable. And you really don’t want that to happen.” He let the threat hang in the air between them. Then one of the boys gulped and glanced up at him.
    â€œIt’s our fault,” the boy explained. “We didn’t mean it, honest.”
    Carter nodded and kept his face and posture unthreatening. “Okay, start at the beginning. What’s your name, anyway?”
    â€œRay,” the boy answered. “Ray Aventura.” He was short and skinny,