“Can I get a sweet tea?” she asked.
“Absolutely. And for Natalie?”
“A root beer float!”
Malcolm laughed. “You got it. I’ll be right back.”
He hurried away from the table.
Moments later a waitress wearing a very tight tank-top with a Quincy’s logo on the breast and shorts like Malcolm’s came to the table. She gave Natalie a pack of crayons and some papers with pictures to color and puzzles to solve. Natalie was ecstatic as she got started.
Trish watched her for a bit, then looked around. She no longer saw Malcolm, but did spot Max talking to the waitress. He still had on the fur suit as he animatedly moved his hands while sharing a story with the pretty girl. Trish figured he was giving her an account of what happened outside. After a bit, the waitress walked behind Max and unzipped the suit. With a goofy grin, Max thanked her and walked away.
As soon as Max was gone, the waitress turned to another girl and started talking. Trish could tell she liked Max, and most likely, he liked her as well.
Both boys seem really nice. Not at all like their father.
She supposed Caine was nice enough underneath that smarmy exterior. If she got to know him, she might find him fun to be around.
Trish nearly gagged.
She doubted she could ever grow to enjoy being around Caine. Plus, Howie couldn’t stand the guy. They’d butted heads more than once over the years.
And this Bigfoot business had added even deeper resentment from Howie. But until today, Trish had never given it much thought. She’d kind of enjoyed all the decorations and merchandise, though she didn’t like what had started it all.
Trish looked across the table. Natalie, a tip of tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, worked on finding her way out of a maze. She was humming to herself. Other than her eyes being a little puffy and red, she didn’t look as if she’d had the hell scared out of her.
After Natalie’s scare, Trish was inclined to agree with Howie. The Bigfoot business needed to go away. There was going to be a vote on changing the beach’s name to Bigfoot Beach. She would definitely say no to that.
I’ll have to tell Paul what happened to Natalie.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be mad. She also hoped Howie wouldn’t blow his lid. He always seemed to look for a reason to bust Caine’s chops on something. This would be plenty of motivation to get him worked up again.
A Mason jar of sweet tea was set in front of her. She stifled a gasp. Looking up, she saw Malcolm. He smiled at her, then put down another jar in front of Natalie. Two fat rocks of vanilla ice cream bulged from a dark frothy pond. A spoon was stabbed into the top. He gave both of them straws.
“Want me to get you a menu?”
“Really, this is fine,” said Trish.
“You’re sure?”
Trish nodded. “Very.”
“Tell you what. Enjoy these, but come back at lunch. It’s on the house.”
“Forever!” Natalie fired back.
Malcolm jumped, pretending to be startled. “That’s right!”
“Thank you,” said Trish. “But we might have one, possibly two more at lunch time.”
Malcolm swept his hand through the air. “Bring them. The more the merrier. More kids?”
“Well…about your age. My nephew, Gunner.”
Malcolm lightly smacked his forehead. “Duh. I should’ve guessed that. The ‘possibly two’ would be my sister.”
Trish’s mouth dropped. Gunner was with her? That girl looked like a model.
Why not? Gunner was just as gorgeous as the other Thompson men. Sure, he was much quieter, but after what he’d gone through the last couple of years, she couldn’t blame him for not talking much.
“Megan is crushing on him pretty hard,” added Malcolm. “Gunner seems cool, though. I bet he’ll eat lunch with Megan, though. She plans to cook for him. And that’s going to be a true test of his feelings for her, because she is a horrible cook.”
Trish felt her features droop. A frown was forming. “Cook? On the beach?”
“No, they’re at our house. Megan was running all over when I left to make sure everything looked tip-top.” He laughed. “She’s got it for him bad. I’ve never seen her act like that. Especially with somebody she just met.”
Trish didn’t know how she felt about Gunner being at their house. He’d lied to her. He’d told her he was going to meet a girl at the beach.
Maybe the plan changed.
If so, Gunner should have told her.
“Anything else?” asked Malcolm.
“No, this is plenty.”
“My pleasure,” he said. “Enjoy your tea and float. I’ll see you at lunch time. I’ll save this table for you.”
He turned and hurried away.
“What’s the matter?” asked Natalie.
Trish blinked. Natalie was spooning in a large mound of ice cream.
“Nothing,” said Trish. She smiled. “Good?”
Natalie nodded. “Yep. Are you going to beat him?”
“No. I think he’s more than made up for scaring you, right? Free ice cream for life? How can I beat him now?”
Natalie looked confused. “Are you going to beat Gunner? For fibbing.”
Trish laughed. “Gunner’s too old to be beaten.”
“But he did fib, right?”
“Well…I don’t know if he fibbed. Maybe he just didn’t tell us everything.”
“Daddy says if you keep things to yourself, it’s the same as lying.”
Trish nodded. “Your daddy is very smart.”
“Does Uncle Howie think so?”
“Does he think what?”
“Think Daddy’s smart…”
Trish’s throat tightened. “Of course he does.”
“Sometimes he doesn’t act like he thinks so.”
Again, Natalie was right. This little girl was very observant to what went on around her. Trish was impressed how much Natalie seemed to understand. But it also made her feel bad, since she was able to recognize tension between Howie and Paul. That was something Trish hoped no one could see.
If she could see it, Gunner could too.
“Uncle Howie loves your daddy. He’s the older brother, you know that?”
Natalie nodded. “Yep. Daddy’s second daddy.”
Trish laughed. “That’s right. Howie does sometimes act like a daddy to him, huh?”
“I think it pisses Daddy off.”
Gasping, Trish reached across the table and lightly tapped Natalie’s hand. “You shouldn’t use language like that.”
“I’ve heard Daddy say it when he’s on the phone with Grandma.”
Trish laughed some more. It felt good as it relaxed the tension in her muscles from Natalie’s earlier comments.
“Let me try to explain,” said Trish. “You know Gunner loves you, right?”
“Yep. He tells me every night before I go to bed.”
“That’s good that he does that. But does Gunner sometimes act like a daddy to you? You know, if he sees you about to do something you’re not supposed to do, he stops you, right?”
“Yeah. And he makes me go to bed on time.” She rolled her eyes. “He never lets me stay up late!”
Trish looked around. Heads were turning toward them. Without any music on, the staff could easily hear Natalie’s carrying voice.
When she turned back to Natalie, she shushed the little girl. “Not so loud.”
Natalie grimaced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. But you see what I’m saying? Gunner is older, so he looks at it as part of his responsibility to make sure you’re okay. That’s all Howie tries to do with your daddy. He just wants to help.”
Natalie looked to the side, nodding as she sucked a dark glob from the spoon. “I guess so.”
“Maybe Howie just needs to come up with a better way to show it.”
“Probably. I think Daddy doesn’t like Howie always doing stuff for us. I think it hurts his proud.”
“Proud?”
“Yeah…” Her eyes narrowed as she thought about it. “Proud. His…” Frustration crumpled her sweet face. “Makes him feel dumb.”
“Oh…his pride.”
“Yeah.” Natalie looked relieved. “Pride.”
“Let me tell you something about pride. Pride gets people into trouble.”
“How come?”
“Never let what others think about you control you. I know you’re young, but I bet you understand what I mean by that.”
Natalie nodded. “I do. Mama went crazy because of it.”
“Oh, Natalie…”
Trish reached across the table and held Natalie’s hand. Though she kept eating her float, she did so slower, as if it no longer tasted delicious. Trish knew nothing she could say would make Natalie’s last comment not be true. Natalie was a very observant girl, probably left alone too much and that gave her nothing but time to think.
I’m going to show her not all women are basket cases.
But she also knew she had to do something about Gunner. She couldn’t just leave him at the Caine house, knowing that Mayor Caine was off with Howie and Paul. She would have to go get him.
No. Don’t do that. Gunner will hate me. Even though he’s the one in the wrong, this will be my fault in his eyes.
Then what could she do?
She looked at the phone and contemplated texting him.
It’d put him in a position to lie even more.
She could tell him she knows where he is. Tell him to come back.
Would he listen?
Trish wasn’t sure.
Maybe send one of the Caine brothers over there? Have them tell Gunner he has to leave.
And if they walk in on Gunner doing things with their sister?
Trish could see Malcolm’s polite demeanor dropping away. If he caught them doing something, Malcolm would probably kick the crap out of Gunner. And once her nephew learned she was the one who asked Malcolm to go check on them, he would hate her.
Damned either way.
Sighing, Trish leaned back. She took her hand from Natalie and curled it around the sweet tea. The glass was moist under her fingers.
What to do?
“Are we going back to the beach?” asked Natalie.
Trish took a swallow of tea. It spread cold through her as it went down. She smiled. “In a little while…”
“What are we going to do next?”
Trish nearly groaned. “I guess we better go get your brother.”
“He’s in trouble, isn’t he?”
“Not yet. But I bet he will be later.”
Natalie didn’t seem pleased. “Oh, boy.”
“Yeah,” said Trish. “Oh, boy.”
28
“Are you sure we haven’t already been through here?” asked Paul.
Howie looked back at him from over his shoulder. “Positive.”
“Okay,” Paul muttered.
He didn’t believe Howie was entirely committed to his own answer. All these caves looked the same, so it was very possible they’d been through here once already.
“We’re not lost,” said Striker from the front. “No Xs.”
Striker had been marking their path with an orange paint marker. Paul was grateful the tracker had planned ahead since nobody else had even bothered to think about it.
“Hang on,” said Bubba in that feminine lisp. “I’ve got to change tapesth…”
“You’ve used up a full tape already?” asked Caine.
“Yeah.”
“How many did you bring along?”
“Three.”
“Well, take it easy on the recording. We need to ration the stock. It’s not like we can run back to the car and get more.”
Though Bubba didn’t say anything, Paul figured the big guy wanted to remind Caine that he’d been the one who wanted Bubba to record nearly every turn, dark space, and crevice. And every time he forced Bubba to click record, Caine demanded Becky to step in front of the camera’s red glow to do an introduction. It was no wonder they’d blown through ninety minutes of tape.
Striker halted and turned around. The group gladly did the same.
“You’ve got thirty seconds,” said Striker. “If you’re not ready by then, we’re moving without you.”
“Can I have some light?” asked Bubba.
Howie threw his flashlight’s beam onto the camera.
“Thanks,” said Bubba. He poked a switch with his forefinger. The camera beeped. It sounded like a car horn in the cramped confines of the cave. A grinding sound followed that was made even more irritating as it bounced off the rocky walls.
“If he had no idea we were here before,” said Striker, “surely he’s heard that.”
“Sorry,” said Bubba.
“Jesus Christ it’s loud,” said Lillard.
As Bubba hurried to change the tape, Becky stepped close to Paul. “How long have we been walking?” she whispered.
“Too long,” said Paul.
“Seems like we’ve been walking for days.” She huffed. “My legs are killing me.”
“When we’re out of here, I’ll rub them for you.”
Becky glanced at him, smiling from the corner of her mouth. “Yeah?”
Paul nodded. “If you want.”
The smile seemed to grow. “When we’re out of here, you can rub me anywhere you want.”
Paul felt a tremor of excitement. But Howie’s groan killed it. He must have heard them talking. It wouldn’t be hard to eavesdrop since the tunnels were so narrow.
Becky’s coy expression was smudged by shadows, but Paul easily detected the frown that replaced it.
Even without Becky’s offer, Paul was ready to get out of here. All they’d done was walked and pointed flashlights. Each crevice they came to, every nook they passed, they stopped long enough to thoroughly search it before moving on. And then they had to wait while Becky told the camera what they were doing. It had been more of a hassle than probably any of them had bargained for.
Becky and I can’t be the only ones who are beat.
“Time’s up,” said Striker.
Bubba clamped the tape into the dock and the metal casing slowly lowered. Then he snapped the case shut. “Ready.”
Striker turned and started walking. Everybody followed.
Some passages were narrower than others and they had to form a single line to pass between the rocky walls. Paul had bumped his head more than once on mud that seemed to have hardened into rock during the process of dripping. The floor was a combination of sand and mud and water, which made walking slippery and difficult. The walls seemed to glow as if painted in slime, and all around Paul could hear hollow drips and the faint sound of rushing water.
They had found no indication of Bigfoot using these caves as his home. They hadn’t even found a footprint.
But where else would he go?
If not here, Paul couldn’t think of any other place, other than the walking trails. But the woods there wasn’t thick enough to conceal it. These caves were as close to a natural habitat a Bigfoot was going to find out here.
Shaking his head, Paul couldn’t believe his ridiculous thoughts. A Bigfoot? But he was there last night. He’d seen it. He knew it was real.
Another long stretch of time passed and Paul found himself in a sort of trance as he walked. It was easier than focusing on their mission if he let his mind drift. He didn’t know how long they’d gone before he bumped into Becky’s back.
She gasped.
“What are we doing?”
Becky shushed him.
What’s going on?
Looking up, he saw the group before him in the spread of his flashlight. They’d all stopped walking. Striker, holding up his hand, signaled them to halt. The tracker turned his head to the side, lifted his nose into the air. Paul saw Striker’s nostrils flaring.
Paul sniffed. All through the caves, the air had smelled briny and damp, a little like mildew. Now he
detected another scent. Though it was very faint, it seemed to suppress everything else.
“Smell that?” asked Striker.
Before anybody could respond, Paul said, “Smoke.”
Striker smiled. “Wood smoke.”
Paul’s insides felt squirmy. They were close.
“Keep moving,” said Striker. “And be alert.”
“Wait,” said Caine. “We have to get this on…”
“Piss off,” said Striker. “We don’t have the time now. Everybody move.”
Again he started walking. And again, everyone followed him.
Paul saw the dark shape of Caine’s head turn to Bubba. “Is it on?”
The camera chimed. “It is now.”
“Knock it off,” said Howie.
Becky paused long enough for Paul to catch up to her.
“This is it, huh?” she whispered.
Paul nodded, though he doubted she saw him in the bouncy radiance of their flashlights. “Seems so.”
“Oh, God…”
Paul put his arm around her. It was harder to walk this way, but he liked having her against him. How she pressed tightly against him, he thought she liked it also.
Striker spun sideways and pointed. “There!”
Howie raised his rifle and thrust the barrel forward. Paul jerked his Ruger from the holster. A staccato of ratchet-like clicks resounded from all around as guns were cocked ready to fire.
Paul saw nothing but shadows.
Striker chuckled softly. “Don’t be so antsy, damn.”
“What is it?” asked Howie.
“Down there. See it?”
The crowd huddled at Striker’s back. Paul guided Becky in front of him and pressed against her. He felt the heat of her body soak through his uniform. Her rump pushed against his crotch, but she didn’t move away from him.
“I see it,” said Howie.
Paul strained his eyes, trying to make them adjust to the even thicker darkness ahead. In the distance, he began to make out a dim orange guttering across the bulges of rock. From here it was like a single candle in a dark room.
The fire.
“Somebody’s keeping warm down there,” said Striker.
“Can he light a fire?” asked Becky. “Seems out of character…”
“Coming from somebody who didn’t believe they existed until last night,” said Striker. He snorted. “Yes, they can start fires. It’s not hard for them. If your brush is dry enough, then rub two stones together to get the spark. Anybody can do it. They actually enjoy the heat fires provide. Plus, it helps them see better at night. Their vision is like ours, so they like having more light in these dark caves.”
Bigfoot Beach Page 21