Aaron Paul Lazar [Lazar - Tremolo

Tremolo: cry of the loon

A Gus LeGarde Mystery

Aaron Paul Lazar

Copyright

Tremolo: cry of the loon by Aaron Paul Lazar

This is a work of fiction. All concepts, characters and events portrayed in this book are fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

Copyright 2006 - 2017 by Aaron Paul Lazar. Originally published by Paladin Timeless Books, an imprint of Twilight Times Books, of Kingsport, Tennessee.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

Second Edition, January, 2017

Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design

www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

Published in the United States of America.

Free eBook

Devils Lake

Bittersweet Hollow, book 1

Two years ago, Portia Lamont disappeared from a small town in Vermont, devastating her parents and sister, who spent every waking hour searching for her. When she suddenly shows up on their horse farm in a stolen truck with a little mutt on her lap, they want to know what happened. Was she taken? Or did she run away?

2015 Finalist Readers Favorites Awards

2015 Semi-finalist in Kindle Book Review Awards

Sign up for Free eBook

Reviews

Youre about to dive into Tremolo: cry of the loon , book 5 in LeGarde Mysteries. If you enjoy it, I hope youll consider leaving a review on Amazon. It doesnt have to be long or fancyjust a few lines about what you liked best or how the book made you feel is perfectly fine.

Authors really do read the reviews and love to hear what their readers think and feel about the characters, the story, or the writing. Its validating, especially if you enjoy what we work so hard to produce!

Thanks in advance for taking a few minutes to write a review ;o)

- Aaron Paul Lazar

Dedication

To my beloved grandparents

I love you and miss you.

Til we meet again.

Chapter 1

Summer, 1964

North Belgrade, Maine

I spun on my seat in the old wooden boat and glanced nervously across the lake. A bank of heavy fog had just rolled in, completely blocking the sun.

Guys? I turned to my two best friends who sat side by side in the stern. I think wed better head home. A prickle of nerves raced up my spine. Id heard stories of people lost in the fog for hours, days, even. And I sure didnt want to be one of them.

Elsbeth slid closer to her brother, shivering. Ja. Take us home, Gus.

I turned the boat around and pointed it in the direction of Loon Harbor, my grandparents fishing camp.

Siegfried peeled off his sweatshirt and handed it to his sister. You are cold, he said.

Danke. She tossed him a grateful smile and put it on.

Wisps of vapor shrouded the boat and goose bumps rose on my arms. I took a deep breath and nodded to the ten-year-old twins with more confidence than I felt. Dont worry. Well make it.

Elsbethwho looked nothing at all like her blond, long-legged brotherdrew the sweatshirt tightly around her. The sleeves were six inches too long and she shoved them up to free her hands. Peering at me through a mass of dark curls, she said, Whats happening, Gus? Why is it so foggy in the middle of the day?

I cast my eyes around the lake and then up to the sky. It had been sunny when we set out for Moosehead Island. I answered carefully, feeling responsible for the two since I was a full year older. It happens sometimes, Ive seen it before. But well be fine.

Elsbeth nodded and tugged the sweatshirt over her bare legs, her eyes darting with apprehension. Okay. I hope youre right. Our father will kill us if were late getting home again.

I know. I stopped rowing and stared into the fog around us. I couldnt see across the lake at all now, and just barely made out the trees on Moosehead Island. Maybe I should just get us to shore for now.

Siegfried turned and stared at the disappearing land, wrinkling his brow. Where did it go?

The island had vanished. Crud. Returning his somber gaze, I set the oars into the boat. Water dripped from the wooden paddles and pooled below.

The fog enveloped us completely.

I shifted on the seat cushion that doubled as a life preserver. Cracks in the vinyl chafed my bare thighs.

A loon warbled in the distance, his cry distorted to a hysterical giggle. Blind, we sat in the gently rocking boat and waited.

Its not a big deal, I lied. We can sit here til it clears. And if we hear someone coming, well just make some noise.

Ja , okay. Siegfried ran his fingers through his long blond hair. It had grown over the tops of his ears since his last haircut. With each passing day, he looked more like the lead singer in Hermans Hermits.

I was envious, and begged my parents to let me skip my weekly trim at the barbershop. So far, they hadnt surrendered.

Although the twins had been in the States for six years, they still spoke with traces of a German accent. Siegfried, in particular, often combined phrases from both languages in the same sentence.

Elsbeth bolted upright and stared anxiously into the distance. Listen.

The faint drone of a motorboat purred in the background. Motionless, we listened. It growled louder, and it sounded like it was heading straight for us.

Siegfrieds blue eyes widened in alarm. Move! he shouted, gesturing to the oars.

I picked them up and spun the boat around, hoping to escape the oncoming boat. Yanking with all my strength, I rowed furiously, but felt disoriented. Which way was it really coming from? And even if I was rowing in the right direction, could we get away from it in time?

The thrum of the motorboat grew louder as it bore down on us.

We shouted, desperately trying to warn them. Watch out! Our shrieks were distorted and gobbled by the mist.

Shrill laughter rang out. I heard the boaters gun their engine. They were actually going faster now .

My heart sank to my bare feet. Horrified, I realized they must be either drunk or insane. Dragging hard on the oars until my arms burned, I propelled the skiff forward into the gray vapors.

A dark shape emerged from the fog and almost collided with our stern. The erratic driver barely avoided us, yanking on the motor handle to veer around our boat. Swearing, he accelerated back into the mist. His passengers shrieked with laughter, and the wake from their boat rocked us violently, causing us to skitter forward.

Without warning, a ripping crash knocked us from our seats.

Siegfried shouted, Mein Gott . Look.

Water gushed through a ragged tear in the bottom of the boat.

I stood to inspect the damage. It was bad. Very bad. Peering over the bow, I peered down. A glistening turquoise reflection loomed sullen beneath the surface. Oh, crap, I yelled. We hit Big Blue.

Elsbeth and Siegfried scuttled to the bow, staring at the monstrous boulder glimmering beneath the surface. Water began to swirl around our ankles.

Mein Gott! Elsbeths hands fluttered to her mouth. Frozen, she watched the water creep toward her knees.

Siegfried grabbed her floating red cushion and forced her hands through the loops. Hold this, Elsbeth. Hold it tight.

The water bubbled higher and the boat tilted forward, throwing us off balance.

Siegfried snatched his green cushion and motioned for me to grab mine. It floated beside my legs. Gus, we have to get out.

My friend was right. We were sinking fast. Come on, I said with new purpose. Lets get out and stand on Big Blue. I set one foot on the slimy boulder. It was slick beneath my toes, but I found my balance and reached back to help Elsbeth out of the boat. Siegfried followed.