“Remote control?” Harry asked when they reached him. Up close, the thing wasn’t as flat as it had looked in the air but, certainly nothing to pose a threat of any kind. The guy didn’t appear nervous over being caught so maybe it was just a harmless hobby of some sort.
“Nothing that fancy, I’m afraid.” He was a young man, of slight build, with straight blond hair falling beneath his Blue Jays cap and reaching his shoulders.
“How does it stay afloat?” Bertie asked.
“Helium balloons,” he replied. “The frame is plastic straws and tin foil to keep the weight to a minimum. The neon lights are just thin strips of glow-in-the-dark paint. I had the thing under very bright lights for 24 hours to achieve maximum light absorption. By the way, I’m Gary Brown, and I know who you are.”
“What’s the purpose behind this, some kind of competition for unusual kites, or something?” Harry asked.
Brown laughed. “I plan to turn the front lawn into a UFO landing site this year, complete with aliens. My wife thinks I’m nuts, but I think the kids will get a kick out of it.”
“Oh, they will love it,” Bertie said. “I’d like to see that myself. Where do you live?” He named the street and she thanked him. “I’m looking forward to seeing the display.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit over the top,” Hogan said as they walked back to the truck.
She shrugged. “Not many would take the time and effort but if he enjoys doing it… I say, more power to him.”
When Harry stopped the truck in Bertie’s driveway, he turned to look at her. “Are you ready to tell me about those personal projects you mentioned just before all this started?”
“Your curiosity knows no bounds, does it?” She laughed lightly. “Very well, but no one else knows about it, so keep it to yourself.” He nodded. “I’ve decided to try my hand at writing children’s books. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do… but I don’t know if I can… and I won’t know if I don’t try, will I?”
Harry reached out and lightly squeezed her arm. “Bertie, stop babbling. I think it’s great, and I know you can do it.”
“You do?”
“I do. But I’ll miss you at the office when you become a big success.”
“Oh, I’m enjoying this too much to give it up. I’ll do the writing at night and… sometimes on weekends.”
“And feel free to bring it to the office with you anytime.”
Harry yawned, and Bertie smothered a giggle as she reached for the door handle. “Good night, Hogan.”
“Good night, Blackett.”
