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    When Darkness Falls
    When Darkness Falls
    When Darkness Falls
    Ebook213 pages3 hours

    When Darkness Falls

    By Dallas Releford

    ()

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    About this ebook

    In the darkest days of World War II, Stella Hanson, a beautiful, intelligent daughter of a traditional West Virginia industrialist builds her own production company to aid the war effort. Her rich father wants her to consolidate her efforts with his own and support her family endeavors. However, she believes that her father is only interested in filling his own coffers and declines. She turns the day-to-day operations over to Paula Simpson. Simpson is more interested in obtaining all the government contracts she can get her hands on than she is helping her country. Her actions leads to conflict and Stella is found murdered. Who killed her and why seems to be the question on everyone's mind.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDallas Releford
    Release dateFeb 7, 2012
    ISBN9781465837752
    When Darkness Falls

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      Book preview

      When Darkness Falls - Dallas Releford

      When Darkness Falls

      A Mystery

      By:

      DALLAS RELEFORD

      Published by

      Dallas Releford at Smashwords.com

      When Darkness Falls

      Copyright (C) 2010 Dallas Releford

      * * * * *

      This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, places, events, organizations, areas, or locations are intended to provide a feeling of authenticity and are used in a fictitious manner. All other characters, dialogue and incidents are drawn from the author’s imagination and shouldn’t be accepted as real.

      No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without explicit permission from the author or publisher except in brief quotations used in an article or in a similar way.

      Smashwords Edition, License notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      * * * *

      Dedication

      I would like to thank my wife Sharon for her understanding while I was writing this book. She passed away on August 18, 2010. She is dearly missed.

      * * * * *

      When Darkness Falls

      * * * * * *

      The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

      Edmund Burke

      * * * * * *

      Chapter One

      FRIDAY

      Stella Hanson walked down that same trail from her big house on the hill to a small lake every morning for five years before someone put a forty-five slug in her body on a cold, September day in 1942. Each morning, no matter if it was raining, snowing or the sun was shining, she took a walk through the woods and enjoyed a visit with nature by the lake before going to work at the nearby machine shop where she was involved in the manufacture of ball bearings for the military. Stella lived just outside of Peyton Falls, West Virginia on a hill and I lived down the street with the rest of my family. Those were tough times and Stella Hanson did what most everybody else did, she worked in industry trying to keep our ships sailing, our planes flying and the enemy dying.

      Her father owned the Hanson Machine Production Company just south of town and everybody knew Stella Hanson and knew her well. Quiet and intelligent, she attracted the attention of many men who would have loved to take her out to dinner and show her a good time. Stella ignored their stares and concentrated on taking care of family business. Most of the time Stella was exactly what she wanted to be, a ghost gliding gracefully amongst the living even though she was often the unwilling center of attention. How she managed to disregard those who favored her attention for reasons of personal gain or for personal satisfaction escapes me as I recall my early association with her. She was indeed a beautiful and resourceful woman who gave her time and energy to helping others even though her family was considered rich. Stella could have enjoyed a life of ease, except she chose another path. It was true she didn’t have to work, Stella had everything any pretty young woman could want, nonetheless, she chose to spend her hours trying to make a difference in a cold, harsh world enshrouded in war. In those days before and during the war, most rich people maintained a position above the common folk. Stella wasn’t like that. She wasn’t like that at all. Her effort to distance herself from most of the population was simply a longing for an environment of isolation where she could think and plan. She was determined to win the war, even if she had to do it by herself. I suppose that she was driven by her own reasons.

      Prior to December 7, 1941, Stella finished high school, helped her parents at the machine shop and dreamed of better things. I guess she was like the rest of us. We all had our heads screwed on backwards and didn’t see—or maybe didn’t want to see—what was coming before the Japanese attacked us. Jerrold Hanson was Stella’s father and Susie Hanson was her mother. She had two older sisters and a brother. Karen was twenty-seven and owned a local gift shop. Jean was twenty-two and was employed as a secretary at the plant. Stella was only twenty. We all had jobs in those days. You couldn’t avoid them. Her brother, Joel was employed, too. He joined the Marines after Pearl Harbor and was killed on an island somewhere in the South Pacific a few months after the Japanese took it over.

      I suppose that one of the reasons for her apparent longing for isolation and her aggressiveness was the fact that the enemy had taken her brother from her. Driven by memories of the life they had shared, she plunged forward with all the strength and determination she had. That was Stella. Her desire to be separated from everyone else was simply an urgent attempt on her part to gain more time in which to find ways to help the war effort. Too often, I wondered if her departure from most human contact wasn’t a matter of a strange sickness that I could not hope to understand.

      Like I said, everybody knew Stella and I knew her, too. Everyone could see the change in her after her brother died. She seemed as distant as that island that took him away from us. Stella didn’t ignore everyone. She had an association with her family, and she had a friendship with me even though that relationship wasn’t as active as it once had been.

      Stella and me went back a long way. In fact, we had known each other since the first grade. She was a little older than me, except I knew that age didn’t matter much just as she knew it wasn’t important. We were friends and we just let it go at that. We didn’t have much time to think about romance or anything else except the war that was taking so many lives. We never knew who might be next or if any of us would survive or not. I loved to walk around town with her and impress the other guys. They all wanted dates with her, however, I was the only one she talked to. Stella was withdrawn and distant. She avoided any discussion of her brother and rarely mentioned personal matters such as feelings, emotions and problems. Trying to avoid words that hurt was difficult because life then was just one big blister waiting to explode. Stella and me talked mostly about what we were going to do after the war was over. The last time I saw Stella alive was on that Friday afternoon when we left the plant together. We always had a soda or grabbed a sandwich at Fields Restaurant on Tremont Street before going home. As we walked out of the plant into the misty rain, the dismal afternoon and the fog, neither of us knew about what was going to happen.

      My mind flashes back to the images of that day just as if it were a movie. Fog was so thick you couldn’t see the mountains that cascaded high above the plant and the little town. Gloom of fog and rain clouded my mind and being with Stella enlightened my heart. A warm spell brought the fog off the river that flowed by the town and pushed it up from the surface of the water. We tried to ignore the rain, fog and the other workers. Workers from the machine shop rushed by us talking excitedly, however, the only thing I heard was her sweet voice and the steady rhythm of my beating heart. Most of the workers didn’t own automobiles in those days. They depended on their legs and a haphazard bus service to get them where they were going. Stella laughed and took my arm as we tried to keep from colliding with the other bodies that were all around us. Everyone wanted to get home out of the rain and the miserable weather. I wanted to get Stella somewhere so we could talk.

      I watched her as I walked beside her amongst dozens of other workers from the factory her father owned. Most people just called it the machine shop although the name on a sign over the top of the entrance said Hanson Machine Production Company. They manufactured lathes and other production machines before the Japanese hit Pearl a year ago. Stella was tired. Her eyes looked like they were trying to hide from the world. She wore an old scarf tied around her long blonde hair. Stella wore a silk, multi-flowered dress and a green trench coat her father had given her on her birthday last year.

      I misinformed you about Stella making ball bearings. Ball bearings were only a few of the things we made in that plant to assist the war effort. Stella worked in the office as a secretary to her father’s plant manager, Nathan Green. Stella was the type of girl that fit into that job the same way she fit into the dress she was wearing. She didn’t want any special privileges and insisted on working in the plant running machinery. Her father wouldn’t hear of it and told her that her talents could be better used in the office. And that was the way it was.

      After we graduated from high school the same year the Japanese attacked us, she went to work at her father’s plant. I lazed around for a couple of months looking for work a few hours each day. One afternoon I was in a local restaurant down on Bixby Street when she walked in after work. I invited her over to my table and we talked for a long time. She suggested I go to work at her father’s machine shop. Two days later, I was working in the stock room supplying tools and materials for the workers. I saw her occasionally when she walked through the plant. One afternoon, she invited me to have a Coke and a sandwich with her at the restaurant. It became almost a daily routine with us. We became better friends than we had been except even I could detect that something was bothering her.

      We walked down to the gate and turned right on Bixby Street as a cold, steady drizzle fell. We were drenched before we finally found ourselves sitting in our regular place in a corner by a dirty window that looked out on Tremont. The name of the restaurant was the Right Eating Place. Taking a seat at the table across from her, I glanced out the window. People were busy trying to do a little shopping before going home after a hard day. The waitress, Doris Johnson, a woman with stringy auburn hair and puffy cheeks waited patiently for us to order our meal. We typically ordered a soft drink and a sandwich every day so Doris knew what we normally had. Today though, Stella surprised me by ordering her regular sandwich, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ice cream. I asked for the same. Doris wrote it down on a pad, looked at us as if we had committed a great sin and walked away. As we sipped our coffee, waited for our sandwiches and enjoyed the moment, Stella said something very strange. She asked me when I was going to war.

      Stunned, I looked at her a moment before answering. Stella fished a sweet pickle out of a jar that was on the table and sucked on it. Crunching on the pickle, she watched me with those big blue eyes waiting for me to say something. My brain was working overtime trying to figure out exactly what she wanted to know. Before I could answer her, she was fishing another pickle out of the jar. I don’t know, I said. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I had been planning on going to college. Everything has changed now, as you already know.

      I was just wondering, she said with a slight smile on her face. I don’t like surprises. Reaching over and taking my hand in hers, staring at me with those large blue eyes that always made my heart flutter, she said, I know they’ll call you, eventually. Please let me know if anything happens, will you, Tony?

      I thought about the situation even though it had always been on my mind. Most young men my age thought about our obligations. Most of them ran down to the local recruiting station and signed up the day Pearl was destroyed. My father told me to wait and finish school. That’s what I did. Just because my father’s name was Stewart Powell didn’t mean that I wouldn’t do my duty. When my time came, I would do what I had to do, just like all the other guys that were joining up and dying on foreign shores. Pulling her hands away from mine, she removed her soggy scarf and tried to comb her long blonde hair with her slender fingers. I could feel her presence as if she were my sister or someone I was in love with. Being close to her gave me a warm, sensuous feeling inside. Hey, would Tony Powell lie to you, Stella? I mean, aren’t we best friends? Of course, I’ll let you know.

      Of course, she replied taking a sip of her coffee. Her blonde hair, deep blue eyes and creamy white skin reminded me of a movie star. I had often told her that she belonged in Hollywood, not in some office. I meant it and wanted better things for her. Stella never took me seriously about such things. She was that kind of girl, beautiful, kind and troubled. I just wanted to make sure we understood each other. You could stay here and work for your father. The police department is usually the last to be called for duty.

      That wouldn’t be fair, Stella, I protested. Just because my father is the Chief of Police in Peyton Falls doesn’t mean that I should hide behind a badge. Now look, Stella. I know you’re concerned about me. Nonetheless, I’m going to have to make a decision real soon. I turn twenty next month. To be truthful with you, well … I’ve been considering joining the Army Air Corps.

      No, she blared before I could finish what I was saying. Sorry, she apologized with tears streaming down her cheeks. It’s just that I was hoping you would go into the regular army or something. If you join the Army Air Corps they will send you right over to England. You will be flying night raids against overwhelming odds. Your chance of survival will be better on the ground. Something tells me you won’t change your mind, though. Everything is just so … so, irrational, terrifying and I’m not sure I can deal with it.

      ‘You’ll be all right, I said. Before she could answer, Doris brought our food. Stella grabbed a sandwich off her plate before the waitress had time to put it on the table. She ate voraciously taking large bites and then washing it down with her soft drink. I hadn’t even finished my sandwich before she was eating her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You must be hungry, I replied. Didn’t you have time to eat lunch?"

      Yeah, she told me while still chomping down on her sandwich. I’m just hungry more these days than I normally am.

      Too much work takes a lot of energy, I admitted. I thought you hated pickles.

      Love them, she replied with her mouth full of food. Taking another gulp of Coke, she devoured the pickle she had fished out of the jar. The jar was empty and I wondered if she would order another one. She waved at Doris and I felt embarrassment approaching. If she ordered another jar of pickles, I would croak. Bring the ice cream, she ordered. Make mine extra large, please.

      After finishing the food I had ordered, I sat for a long time taking baby bites of the delicious Maple Walnut ice cream. It was my favorite and I almost asked for seconds as Stella ordered another bowl. Watching her eat almost made me sick. Gorging herself, she hardly had time to talk between bites.

      When she finished, she sat back and looked at me with a guilty look on her face. That was good, she replied.

      Did you get enough? Do you feel better now?

      Yes, of course, she said. That will do until dinner. What are we going to do, Tony? I don’t want to lose you too.

      We’ll make it. You won’t ever lose me. We’re like two peas in a pod and we belong together, I assured her even though I knew she didn’t believe in miracles any more than I did. Stella seemed frantic and I wondered why she was so concerned about me joining the Army Air Corps. My chances of survival were probably the same no matter where I went. War was war and you couldn’t hide from it. None of us knew for sure what tomorrow would bring. I think Stella lost her faith in miracles that day when a soldier delivered a message about her brother that she hoped she would never receive. I suppose I took the place of her brother when he died. Now I was trying to fill the void and was having a great deal of difficulty understanding exactly what she was feeling. Loss was one of the things that troubled her, I suppose, except Stella seemed to be content to be with me and her work seemed to take her mind off things. We all did that. We all tried to ignore the newsreels, the newspapers and the talk about Hitler winning the war in Europe and about Japan invading America. As I gazed into those large blue eyes like a snake eyeing a bird, I realized what my obligation to Stella really was. I was more than a brother because I was the only true friend she had. Haphazardly,

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