25
Cash stepped into the Santa Fe Plaza and angled across it toward her destination. It was brutally hot, and she was sweating despite having donned a sleeveless shirt and light pair of cotton pants tucked into rubber boots. Her hair was up with untidy strands sticking to her face. Sweat pooled in the small of her back, and she could feel the beginning tingles of sunburn across her nose and cheeks. The smell of melted cheese and chile wafted across the plaza, making her mouth water. She was hungry—but also late. No time to stop.
She made her way to the adobe façade of the hotel La Fonda, pausing just inside the door in appreciation of the sudden cold rush of air-conditioning. Thank God. She threaded her way through the colorful interior and to the lobby.
“Lumpkins Ballroom? For the UFO convention?” She leaned up against the concierge desk.
The man eyed her with disapproval and finally said, “You meanUAPconvention? Down the hall to the left.”
Cash made a note to herself not to use the UFO acronym.
She had decided to take a quick flight from Denver to Santa Fe—just for the day—to find out more about Castillo, hisUAPactivities, and who might have wanted him dead. According to Reddit, this convention—Truth in the Skies—was one of the more important UAP conferences held in the United States. Castillo had attended as a speaker and panelist the past two years, and according to phone calls and emails found on his cell, he was planning to attend this year as well. She was hoping shecould find some attendees who knew him—and she never turned down the opportunity to dig into some New Mexico green chile while in Santa Fe. Her empty stomach rumbled at the thought.
She headed toward the ballroom, perusing the occasional shop window displaying wood carvings and chunky New Mexican jewelry. She passed a blue-haired woman wearing a T-shirt printed with a picture of a flying saucer and stenciled with the wordsI BELIEVE, DO YOU?
“Convention pass?” said a messy-haired young person manning a desk at the ballroom entry.
Cash pulled out the day pass she’d picked up at the registration desk, and he nodded her in.
She entered the ballroom, keeping her law enforcement badge and lanyard hidden underneath her jacket. The ballroom featured several grand chandeliers and booths lined strategically across a garish red, yellow, and green carpet. The room was crowded, laughter and conversation filling the space.
Cash stopped in front of a booth run by a man with brilliant blue eyes encased in wrinkles. Strands of sandy hair had been swept across his scalp in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his age-spotted scalp. He handed her a pamphlet, which Cash stuffed into her pocket without a second glance. His booth displayed several black-and-white aerial photographs of a circular scar on the land and surrounded by trees lying flat on the ground in a radiating pattern.
“What’s this?” Cash said, pretending to be interested.
The man’s eyes lit up at the opportunity to speak to a visitor. “The Tunguska event. You’ve heard of it, of course?”
“A little,” Cash lied.
He began gesturing with liver-spotted hands at the various photos that had been pinned to corkboard across his booth. “Occurred on
June 30, 1908, near the Tunguska River in Siberia. Two thousand square kilometers of forest flattened with no explanation. A blinding blue light was seen in the sky, shock waves sent people tumbling hundreds of kilometers away, and windows were shattered. The force was more powerful than an atomic bomb. NASA claims it was an asteroid that exploded in the skies over Siberia. But of course”—the old man raised his chin—“we know the truth.”
“Aliens?” Cash tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice. She needed these people on her side if she was going to find anything out about Castillo.
“Of course,” the man said, not seeming to notice. “A spaceship that landed on Earth. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. There was no physical evidence of an asteroid. No crater. A Russian expedition claims to have recovered unusual metal fragments from the impact site. There have been other Tunguska-type impacts as early as AD 1178. I analyze these facts in my book,Earthfall of Unidentified Aerial Phenomena.”
He handed her a copy from a stack on one of the tables. She flipped it over. A much-younger version of the man in front of her smiled at her from the back cover. She took note of his name: Earl Wield.
“How long you had a booth here at Truth in the Skies, Earl?”
“Around five years, but been coming for fifteen.”
“How much for a copy?” She waggledEarthfall of Unidentified Aerial Phenomenain the air.
Wield grinned excitedly. “Twelve dollars, miss.”
Cash fished a twenty out of her wallet and handed it to Wield. “Keep the change, but mostly for addressing me asmiss.” She smiled. “Listen—maybe you can help me. There’s a UAP scholar I was hoping to meet. Javier Castillo. He spoke here last year. Do you know him?”
“Sure.” Wield rubbed his chin. “Lots of people know Javi.”
“What did he talk about last time?”
“The Pentagon cover-up. Smart guy. We spoke at length about the Tunguska event. He runs a nonprofit that was investigating UAP touchdowns around the world. Wanted to know more about my work.”
“What was the nonprofit called?”
“Paradox.” The man chuckled. “Cool name.”
