The Atlanta Conspiracy (PAPERBACK)

Chapter One

The sun streamed through lush green trees that lined a winding country road, and the scenery took Patricia McKay’s breath away. A river hugged the right side of the road. “So beautiful,” Patricia said, smiling as the trees behind the river opened up and showed an old red farmhouse sitting off in a green field. “I’m glad Edna is allowing me all the time I want to drive back to Georgia. After my ordeal in Seattle, I could use a break.”

Patricia checked the rearview mirror and spotted only empty road. She pulled the yellow SUV onto a sea of grass, parked, and glanced down at her flowing yellow dress. “Yellow SUV. Yellow dress. Call me Twitty Bird,” she said, laughing to herself, and climbed out into a warm morning full of singing birds and river water playing over gentle rocks. “Ah, smell that air,” she said, beaming as she breathed in the scent of early summer flowers. “This part of America is so beautiful. I love Idaho.” Patricia studied the river, deciding to wander down to the water. She quickly removed her sandals—barefoot in summer was as natural to Patricia as breathing—and walked to the river. Tall, soft, green grass brushed her feet, and a balmy breeze played in her silky hair. For the first time in so long, Patricia felt at peace and radiant. “You’re very dramatic, Patricia McKay,” she said, chuckling to herself as she bent down at the edge of the river. “Very dramatic indeed.”

Patricia didn’t know someone was watching her. Lyle Cakes, a mischievous twelve-year-old wearing old farming clothes, hunkered down behind a tree, grinning as he watched. Patricia dipped her hands into the river and splashed a little water onto her face. Lyle chuckled to himself. But no sooner had he snickered to himself than a river snake quickly slithered downriver toward Patricia. “Hey, lady!” Lyle shouted, exploding from behind his hiding spot. “Get away from the river—snake!”

“What?” Patricia shot to her feet and looked around. A strange kid was running across a shallow spot in the river, pointing at something and yelling at the top of his lungs. Patricia followed Lyle’s hands to a long, ugly snake racing right toward her. “Yikes!” she screamed and took off running back toward the road. Lyle stopped, snatched up a medium-sized river rock, and slung it at the snake. The rock made perfect contact. The impact plowed the snake’s body underwater. Lyle stood back and waited. Seconds later the snake reappeared and raced down the river. Lyle wiped sweat off his forehead and ran up to the road. “Snake’s gone, lady,” he said, pride in his voice.

Patricia looked down from the hood of the SUV at a freckle-faced, red-headed boy who seemed out of place. Lyle looked like he belonged back in the 1930s. “Thanks...I owe you.”

“Just an old river snake...kind of poisonous, though. Have to be careful of them. Ain’t known no one to die from a bite, but Old Man Steen got real sick and almost died,” Lyle explained, shoving his hands into his farm pants pockets. “Momma said you can’t appreciate what you got until that person is dead and gone. Old Lady Steen almost lost her old man...came to her senses and stopped nagging the poor man all the time.”

“Oh...well, yes, I can see how that might be,” Patricia told Lyle and climbed down from the hood of the SUV. “Do you live around here?”

“Sure do. I live on the ‘Cake Farm,’” Lyle explained, tossing a thumb back toward the river. “Our land ends at the river. My daddy owns nearly three thousand acres of good farmland. He sells cow’s milk.”

“Oh, well, that is a nice way to make a living.” Patricia managed to smile. “My name is Patricia McKay. What’s yours?”

“Lyle Cakes,” he told Patricia. “I’m the son of Lyle Cakes Senior.”

“Wow, that’s an impressive name.”

“Sure is.” Lyle beamed. “Well, I better get moving. Saw you stop and thought I’d see who you were. I skipped school today. Thought you might be Mr. Adler looking for me. Glad you weren’t...you’re real pretty.” Lyle tipped Patricia a wink and ran back toward the river. “Don’t tell my folks you saw me. My daddy will tear my hide up!”

Lyle scooted back across the river and ran through an open field. The boy finally vanished into a distant barn. “Must be great to be so young and carefree...unless you get caught skipping school.” Patricia giggled to herself, retrieved her sandals, and got back on the road. As soon as she pressed on the gas pedal, her phone sitting on the passenger seat rang. Patricia expected the call to be from Brian Johnson, her boyfriend. It had been over two days since she had heard from him. “It’s just Edna.” She sighed and answered the call. “Leave me alone. I’m having a beautiful morning.”

“Then why did you answer my call?” Edna asked. “I’m in Jamaica getting in a little rest and relaxation. I’m calling to tell you I won’t be back in the office until the twenty-ninth. You’ve got two full weeks off, kiddo. Take your time driving back to Georgia, huh?”

“It won’t take me two weeks, but I can make the drive last,” Patricia promised Edna, excited about the news. My boss is away. That means no new assignments for now. I can take a breath of air and relax for two solid weeks. “Well, have a great time and⁠—”

“Not so fast,” Edna ordered as she raised a tall glass shaped like a flamingo up to her lips and took a sip of cold, delicious lemonade. “I sent the office on vacation, but that doesn’t mean work is excused. I’ll need stories when I return to the office.”

“Edna—”

“Relax,” Edna said, her voice honeyed with the ease of someone with absolutely nowhere to be. “All I want for you to do is take your time driving back to Georgia, stop at a few places, take some photos, and write three cross-country articles for me. Very simple.”

“Wait—no ‘Murder Mystery’?” Patricia asked. “Are you alright?”

“Look, Jill is going through an ugly divorce. She usually writes the ‘Rookie’ articles for me that get a few hits.”

“So I’m being demoted?” Patricia teased.

“You’ll be without a job unless you do what I order,” Edna said. “Now, I need photos and three articles. I’ll pay you what I pay Jill. Simple enough?”

“Yeah, simple enough, I guess,” Patricia said as she rounded a curve and nearly ran into a slow-moving tractor an angry man was driving. She slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop. “Three articles—lot of photos—you can count on me, boss,” she told Edna as her heart tried to run out into the bright sun.

“I know I can, sweetie,” Edna said, softening her voice. “You’re my kiddo. I love you. Talk to you soon.”

“Love you, too. Bye.” Patricia tossed down her phone and followed the slow-moving tractor for a minute, then tried to pass when the road straightened. A large man waved a hairy arm at her. Patricia slowed and rolled down the passenger window. “Yes?” she called.

“You seen a twelve-year-old boy anywhere?” Lyle Cakes Senior barked.

“Uh...”

“My boy skipped school again. Hates his new teacher. Can’t blame him, no one likes the woman, but he’s still got to be in class,” Lyle barked again, looking over at Patricia. Patricia wasn’t a local. “Well, if you see my son, tell him he’s not in trouble, but he’s going to get a good talking to.”

“Will do,” Patricia promised and sped away. “Looks like there’s drama no matter what part of the world you travel to. And speaking of the world, I better settle on a town to stop at for tonight and—” A loud Bang exploded from the right back tire. Patricia swerved to the side of the road. “Oh—not a flat!” Patricia bowed her head, sighed, and stepped out into the warm sun to check the damage. The rear right tire was flatter than a slug run over by a heavy Peterbilt. “Great!”

Lyle Senior spotted Patricia standing beside a bright yellow SUV. He slowed his farm tractor and pulled up behind the SUV. “Got a spare?” he asked, noticing the flat tire.

“I should. This is a rental,” Patricia explained, watching Lyle Senior climb off his tractor like a grizzly bear.

The large man didn’t speak a word. He dropped onto his knees and looked under the SUV. The spot where a spare tire was attached was vacant. “No spare,” he grunted, crawled back to his feet, and studied Patricia. “I’ll go back to my farm and call Henry. He’ll haul you into town and fix you up.”

“I’ve got a cell phone.”

Lyle Senior nodded. “Even better.” Patricia hurried to retrieve her phone. Lyle Senior called Pastor Henry Blakes, owner of the local garage. “Yeah, we’re just up the road from the farm. Thanks, Henry.” Lyle Senior handed Patricia back her cell phone. “Henry is on his way.”

Patricia looked into a hard face, carved by years of work—but the same face was kind, faithful, honest. Lyle Senior was a steady Christian farmer, no-nonsense, but he could soften when needed and show a tenderness only a good-hearted man could have. “I saw your son, Mr. Cakes. He was back at the river. I stopped to stretch my legs. Your son chased off a snake before it could bite me. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I didn’t want the little guy getting into trouble—after all, he did save me from a snake.”

Lyle Senior wasn’t upset. “Appreciate your honesty.”

“I saw your son run into a barn.”

Lyle Senior nodded. “I think I know where he is,” he told Patricia, looking around. “My son doesn’t like change. Can’t say I do either. His new teacher is young and bossy. Not a single parent I know of likes this woman. But running from a problem never fixes it.”

“No, sir, it isn’t,” Patricia agreed, introducing herself. “My name is Patricia McKay. I’m a travel writer.” Patricia offered a friendly smile. “I’m taking the scenic route back home. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to know if there is a nice hotel close by on this route? This flat tire might be telling me to stop traveling for the day.”

“My wife runs a bed and breakfast,” Lyle Senior told Patricia. “We don’t get a lot of guests—a few during the summer months—but mostly it fills up in the autumn when the local churches have their convention.”

“Uh, how much for a room?” Patricia asked. She wasn’t rich and Edna wasn’t paying.

Lyle Senior looked into Patricia’s face, and something in it—an innocence, an intelligence—told him the woman was all right. “My wife usually charges one hundred dollars a night. But I tell you what”—Lyle Senior rubbed his thick brownish-gray beard—“you said you’re a travel writer? What exactly is that?”

“I travel the world writing about the places I visit,” Patricia explained. “The magazine I work for is circulated worldwide.”

“Is that so?” Lyle Senior continued to rub his beard. “Want to make a deal?”

“A free night’s stay if I write an article on your wife’s bed and breakfast?” Patricia asked, smiling brightly. “Deal.”

Lyle Senior held up three fingers. “Three nights,” he told Patricia. “My wife—well, she doesn’t get much company. At times I think she’s lonely. It’ll do her good to have a visitor she can show around, talk to, and cook for. One day won’t be enough.”

Patricia didn’t want to be delayed for three days, but something in Lyle Senior’s voice broke her heart. “Mr. Cakes, you have a deal,” she promised.

Lyle Senior smiled a little. “Good,” he said, looking up the country road. “Well, Henry should be along shortly. I’ll stay here with you until he comes. Once he replaces the bad tire, you can drive back to my farm. I’ll tell my wife to be expecting you—after I speak to my son.”

“Oh, go easy on him,” Patricia begged. “It’s not easy being twelve years old—especially in today’s world.”

Lyle Senior nodded. “I protect my boy from how the world is. I keep his life simple and raise him the way I was raised—with the Bible, hard work, honest hands, and a strong heart. I’m proud of the way my boy is, but I have to teach him to face his troubles head-on. Running isn’t the answer.”

Sometimes you find life’s treasure way out in the middle of Idaho, she thought and smiled. Maybe this road trip will be wonderful after all. Patricia didn’t know her trip was going to take an ugly turn for the worse.