Gavin's Revelation

Investigation is serious business for me. I expect eventually to become an investigator for the FBI. Although my family thinks this is just a phase I'm passing through, I know there's a future for me to do more than just write about the mysteries I solve.

Take today, for instance. My brother, that's Neill, he's almost sixteen months younger than me and seriously not into growing a career of investigations. He believes our investigations now will simply be fodder for his books, those ones he wants to write eventually. My sister, Emily, thinks we're all a little squirrelly for working up a sweat trying to solve mysteries. We should be letting the police do it, since it's their job and they get paid to do it. But, she hangs out with us and mostly is there to rescue us when we get in over our heads. Morgan can identify with what I do, because she's studying to be a Criminal Investigator when she gets out of college. Personally, I think she'll get married and make pretty babies, because she's a girl, but I don't dare tell her that.

Mom is a writer for the local paper. She writes news stories and blogs about the events we get into on the town blog. She's probably solved more crime in print than the police department has in the courts - and she's good at getting to the meat of things. People stand up and listen when she speaks, especially when she's angry. They kind of react the same way to Morgan. I wonder if they'll listen to me when I get older?

Our most recent adventure revealed a plan by the City Administrator to overtake the local air field and stop local pilots from using the services. He had decided there were more important planes to fly, so to speak. Of course, I don't think he was aware of the spunk and spirit of our local airport mistress. This is how it happened.

"Hey Gavin, you boys haven't been up in a while. Why don't you come out and fly with Mitch this afternoon?" Lauren Tate invited us to fly with her husband often.

He flew spray planes and was one of few pilots Mom allowed us to use in our stunt photography. He was good.

"I'll get Neill and the cameras, we'll be back about noon?" I asked rushing out the door of the terminal. I'd actually arrived at the airport to check on a flight for Morgan, who wanted to fly in over the weekend. Given good circumstances, Mitch might pick her up on his way home, if I asked. I waited.

The run home took me cross country, I ran down the side of the field to a ditch road and down the ditch to town, where we lived about half a block from the irrigation ditch. Neill and I rode our scooters back to the airport and arrived just as Mitch set down for the noon fuel up.

Mitch was a clean-cut, cowboy type, who wore his jeans tucked into his yellow leather boots and a stetson on his short curly black hair. He didn't much look like a pilot. He really looked a bit out of place in the plane, but he could fly anything that had wings, and I'd been told he'd even landed one that didn't. I never asked about that.

With all the noise of planes lining up, we couldn't hear him talking, but he pointed toward the hanger on the far side and motioned for us to put our scooters in there, so that's where we took them. We cut the motors long before we got inside and coasted our bikes into the side wall, where we'd left them before. We never talked when we parked the bikes, no rule, just not something we did.

Neill heard it first. He motioned to me and stepped into the shadows. We stood against the wall in the shadow watching as four men walked into the hanger. One I vaguely recognized, the others were strangers. The one doing the most of the talking was the one I recognized.

"If we cut the local flights, we could have three commercial flights a day. That should make this a profitable buy for the city. It would benefit everyone, and these spray boys can find another site to fuel their chemical blasters."

"When you condemn the property, you'll have to act fast. This guy isn't your usual fly-boy, he's been around the ranch a while. He's likely to catch on. You'll have to get his property and boot him out of the saddle before he has a chance to figure out what's going on."

They walked past us and we ran out the door. One of them hollered after us, but we kept running past the next hanger, all the way over to the fuel bays where Mitch was fueling up his plane.

I'd go on, but I don't want to miss up the story for you. This one is the Mystery of the Cowboy Pilot. Keep reading.

Introducing Breken, Colorado

You've probably been through Colorado a time or two, may know every town in the state. But, I guarantee, you've missed this jewel of a town. Everyone does. Breken lies on the edge of the mountains, just a little too far east to be part of the Rockies, and just a little too far west to be part of the plains. Home to none other than the Ruskin family, a team of sleuths bent on stopping crime, or at the very least capturing every criminal in town. Add to that, any who come through Breken, and perhaps any who think they might come through Breken.

Nestled into a cove along the Breken River, Breken rests beneath a ledge of rock croppings that separate the town and the river, from the Interstate and the city that lies just beyond view. Breken houses more than a fair share of the state's criminal element, and for whatever reason, the rest of them tend to come through hoping to find a safe place to stay. However, they're not counting on the youngest sleuths in the state living just beyond the bridge, on High Street in a part of the community where homes have personality, charm and history.

Neighbors count themselves proud to be friends of the Ruskin family and everybody in town knows them, speaks their name, and recognizes them on sight.

Julia Ruskin works at the Breken Daily Trader as a reporter, when she isn't out chasing criminals and hovering over the sleuthing team on their latest adventure. Or, more importantly when she isn't writing another book more important than the town council or some other community project. A native to the area, Julia's interests have more to do with raising her family and being a good parent than they do with fighting crime, but for some unknown reason, she keeps finding the two go hand in hand.

Morgan is away at college most of the time, unless of course her siblings uncover a crime ring too big and complex for them to solve. In which case, she arrives home in the nick of time to save the day and rescue any missing persons from the long arm of the criminal and the lost focus of the law. The police department in Breken is more focused on bringing her home to fight crime than on protecting the small town she'd rather bury under rock than live in, but her brothers keep her coming back home.

Emily chases away crime with a broomstick. She'd really rather have an organized and peaceful home. Her job is to keep things running smoothly, but how can she when the sleuths of the community keep bringing her into the middle of their rough and tumble adventures. Her duty to protect little brothers and keep Mom organized fall into the same category as her relationship with the County Attorney, Ross Burmingham, whose attention often gets side swept by family adventures.

Gavin focuses his interest on crime the way a blood hound focuses on the fox. Once he's got a clue, he doesn't let up until the crime is solved. His interest in criminal justice and law keep him on the lookout for anything that smells of criminal activity and he recognizes a crime from a mile away. His interest in Charlotte Robbins keeps him side tracked just enough to spend time away from the crime scene.

Neill spends his time thinking about his projects, ambivolent to the tyrades around him until the peices come together. He solves the crime, non-chalantly, leaving the chase to everyone else. Although, he loves a good adventure, so he often tags along with big brother Gavin to rescue him, or more likely to stave off danger.

The story rests more in the process of a family living in small town, rural America with hopes dreams and visions of success and a future where love grows.