Unlike Tom. She couldn't care less where that pig came from.
Gail finished her mac and cheese and climbed the stairs. The light was still on in Flynn's room, and a sudden, illogical need surged up inside her to knock on the door. Maybe she could apologize for her severity?
Gail put her hand up to the door. His voice stopped her from knocking just as she pulled back her hand and formed her fist. Was he talking to Tom? If so, she'd rather pass. She'd seen enough of that man today.
The door to Tom's room was ajar, so she tiptoed down and peered into the darkness. A long, drawn-out snore followed by a snort came out.
Nope. Unless the Loch Ness monster was sleeping in Tom's room, Flynn wasn't talking to Tom. Disgusted, Gail sneaked back to Flynn's room.
She pushed away a thought of Tom sleeping with the Loch Ness monster and listened more carefully to Flynn's voice through the door. He sounded different, more tender.
"We came so close tonight. I'm telling you, we'll find Nessie by the end of the summer. We can have a party and celebrate. Maybe go out if you're feeling up to it. I'll have proof to show you any day now."
Silence fell while whoever was on the other end responded. Gail's interest piqued.
"Don't worry about me. It's totally safe. And I'm being careful, okay?"
More silence. Who was Flynn talking to? Certainly not a business relation.
"Yeah, nighty nite, hon. I've got a few tours this weekend, but I'll make sure to drop by when I can."
Hon? Gail's stomach dropped to the floor. Flirty Flynn had a girlfriend? And she was a believer just like him?
Movement from inside his room caused her to draw back and shuffle down to her room. Just as his door opened, she shut hers and locked it for the night. No way was she going out there now.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she have ever thought this charming crytozoologist was into her? Especially after how she'd acted. She'd practically pushed him away at knifepoint.
Good thing. She would have looked like a fool.
Gail settled onto her bed and wrapped herself in the cotton comforter, feeling so vulnerable the emotion threatened to tear her apart. One thing she couldn't afford to be was illogical. All it ever did was bring her pain.
Stick to the hard facts. Science will never hurt you.
Yet the dreamer inside squirmed as though her body was too tight and the sparkly unicorn lover had to be let out. She had too much of her father in her and she knew it.
Which was why she had to be careful. She couldn't end up like him.
Chapter Four
Tracks
"Come on, sport, the trail's up ahead."
Gail stumbled on a root and fell face-first into the leaves. She swallowed a mouthful of dirt and bugs — she was so sure the crunchiness was bugs — and coughed, pulling herself up on her knees. Why couldn't they go to a normal place on the weekends, like the movies? Or the mall?
"Aw. You okay, sport?" Her dad pulled her up, brushing pine needles off the front of her favorite pink sweatshirt.
"Uh huh." She spit out the dirt, trying to look brave. "I'm right behind you."
"You always are." He took her hand, which embarrassed her even though there wasn't anyone around. She was a teenager. She was almost old enough to drive. She didn't need her father to hold her hand.
She stumbled again and her father held her up, pulling her forward.
Well, in this forest, maybe she did need his help. Anything was better than another mouthful of dirt and bugs.
"Just a little ways farther." Her father had that eager twinkle in his eyes, the one he had when he watched programs on the SyFy channel. She liked seeing him happy, and his eagerness was contagious. Maybe they would find something.
They crested a hill, which lead to more hills and more trees. Would the White Mountain forest ever end? Her feet ached. The fancy lounge area at the Mount Washington Hotel seemed a lot less boring and much more comfortable.
"The sighting happened just beyond those boulders up there." He pointed to a ridge that looked almost impossible to climb. "They say the Sasquatch just jumped out from behind that stand of trees then ran in the opposite direction down that ridge.
She squelched a raging surge of doubt. She wanted so much for her dad to be right, but the older she got, and the more outings they had with no evidence, the more she questioned his beliefs. "How long ago was the sighting?"
"Two months ago." He took some pictures. "Go stand by that tree. I need a size comparison."
"I'm not as tall as Bigfoot, dad." And two months ago? That was like forever. The thing was way long gone by now. If the legend even existed.
"Yes, but your five-feet-two stature will tell me just how big the Bigfoot was compared to the description the hikers gave."
She tried to stand up straight so her father could have an accurate representation, but it was hard to balance on the side of a cliff holding onto a birch tree. No wonder Mom had decided to stay and swim in the hotel's heated pool.
"Got it!" Her dad smiled as he helped her onto some semblance of a trail.
She almost asked him if they could go back, but seeing him so happy in his element made her bite her tongue.
He patted her arm. "Just wait a sec while I take some soil samples."
What was he looking for? Gail spotted a swell of vibrant purple in the ferns. A lady slipper! They were rare these days. She'd read about how the plant was on the "protected" list. She'd never seen one in person.
Gail stepped off the trail and picked her way through dense undergrowth toward the ridge. A whole bed of them had sprung up beneath an outcropping of granite. She bent down and touched one. The petal caressed her fingertip like satin. So delicate. So beautiful.
A shadow passed at the corner of her eye.
"Dad?"
No answer. She scanned the forest for his green rain poncho. A branch snapped, and leaves rustled above her. Heavy breathing from something with big lungs whispered in the misty air.
Gail shot up.
A dark patch lingered between two thick trees. Was it fur?
Her heart rate sped. Dad was right. All this time Mom and I made fun of him, he was right. Joy spread throughout her chest. She was so proud of him. He would always be her hero.
She froze, not wanting to scare the beast away or provoke it toward her. "Dad?" she whispered, backing up slowly. "Get over here."
Adrenaline pumped through her. Where did the creature come from? Where did they live? How come no one had ever seen one before? What made her so special to actually see one? Going on a hunt like this was the coolest thing ever. Her dad would be so proud.
"What is it, honey?" He might as well have had a microphone. His voice was so loud and sudden, the creature between the trees sprang into motion. Gail's heart sped as she pointed to the fur.
"Over there." The creature darted between trees, and Gail spotted an antlered head, then a rump as big as her pillow.
"That's quite a moose, sport! Good job." Her dad patted her on the back and scratched the stubble on his chin. He never shaved on vacation. "Now, let's look for some tracks."
Disappointment fell heavy and hard, stripping away her confidence and making her feel like the biggest fool to ever walk in the woods. It took all of her strength not to collapse to the mossy earth and trample all the lady slippers.
Believing was so much more fun. But when your hopes were crushed, it hurt so bad. She never wanted to put herself out there again. How could her dad put up with this day in and day out?
"Come on, sport. I found an indent over here."
She pushed through the branches. Her father knelt by a muddy hole in the ground. He'd dug in his backpack and pulled out his plaster mix to make a cast.
She wanted to tell him the imprint was just soil erosion from rainwater, that Bigfoot was just a story made up by people with nothing better to do than lie. But when he gazed at her and she saw the eagerness in his eyes, she smiled instead.
Gail put a hand o
n his shoulder and squeezed. She wanted to play along for another day. "Good work, Dad."
****
Gail shot up in bed, confused. Where was she? Whose bed was this?
She ran her hands over the cotton comforter and last night's boat ride came back to her in a rush. The haunting call, the object on radar, walking back to the cabin, Flynn's girlfriend.
Flynn.
That was why she'd dreamed of her father all night.
I have to stay away from that man.
He made her feel things she hadn't felt in a long time. He almost made her believe again.
Gail shook her head and walked to the small private bathroom beside her dresser. She stared at herself in the mirror. Baggy eyes, rumpled hair, and a sunburn across her nose. How did that happen?
Good thing there was a walk-in shower and she wouldn't have to climb down those steps in her morning hideousness.
Not that it mattered. For her, Flynn was bad news.
Gail brushed her teeth and started the shower, allowing the hot water to heat the room. Even though the dream had shaken her, she was still glad to have seen her father after these three long years. The dream had been so vivid. She remembered that long weekend at the Mount Washington Hotel like it was yesterday. The image of her dad kneeling by that muddy hole forever blazed in her mind. In that moment, she'd chosen to join him on his wild crusades despite the doubt in her heart.
I shouldn't have encouraged him. I should have told him the truth about how I felt.
Maybe if she had, he'd still be alive today.
Chapter Five
Remnants
Flynn sat on the sofa, watching the flames in the fireplace cast shadows on Nessie's stone belly. The creature had to have been with them last night. That call was ancient history come to life. The sound prehistoric men heard while hunting on the prowl. It was primordial, ravenous, pining. It rattled his bones and shook his world. To Flynn that sound was magic.
Gail had used her equipment to call to the creature, and Nessie had responded. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to think, for a moment, you weren't alone after centuries of isolation. Had the beast recognized their bait before they could snap a picture?
Guilt zapped through his chest. Was he cruel to lure Nessie out for Tabitha's sake?
Flynn thought he'd heard someone at his door last night while he'd spoken with Tabitha. Tom had been snoring through the wall, so it must have been Gail. Had she overheard his conversation? Tabitha wasn't a subject he could talk about easily. He ate another spoon of cereal and glanced at the stairs. What was taking Gail so long?
The morning newspaper lay on the table and he riffled through the front pages. An article about Charles Fayette, the sport fisherman who illegally hunted all manner of endangered species, took up most of the right column. Before he could read if the local authorities had caught him, a door cracked open from upstairs. Flynn dropped his spoon into his cereal bowl.
Gail shuffled down the stairs dressed in a navy sweatshirt and white skinny jeans. Her hair was moussed and wet from the shower, tossed in gentle waves around her fine-boned face. Even with her little round glasses, she looked hot.
"Sleep okay?" Flynn set his bowl on the coffee table and stood.
"Yeah, like a rock." She looked away as if she hadn't meant it. "Where's Tom?"
"He went out early to take more footage of the lake." Flynn smirked. "Why? Do you miss him?"
"Very funny." She had a stern look on her face, but the corners of her lips twitched into a smile. "Do you have any more of that cereal?"
"Sure, I'll make you a bowl." Flynn jogged to the kitchen.
"Thank you. Bring it up to my room."
Flynn's heart sputtered. Her room? "Why?"
"There's something you've got to see."
The sputter turned into a full-fledged butterfly attack on his heart. Flynn almost dropped the cereal box on the floor. Either she wanted to show him her naked body, which would be fine with him, or she'd found a picture of Nessie from the drop camera's digital memory card — which would be not as good, but still fantastic.
Dreaming of both possibilities, Flynn brought the cereal bowl up to Gail's room. Her door was slightly ajar, but he knocked anyway.
"Come in."
Flynn pushed the door and stepped in. Gail sat on her bed using her computer, still wearing what she'd picked that day. Option one out of the question. Trying to not be disappointed, he settled in beside her and handed her the bowl. Option two was almost as good. "Did you find something?"
She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Look at this."
A snapshot of a massive conglomeration of decaying vegetation filled the screen.
"I don't see anything."
"You're not supposed to. Until you look at this same shot, two seconds later." She clicked on the arrow, and the same murky muck lay unchanged.
"I don't see—" Flynn ate his last word. "What is that?" He pointed to a glowing yellow orb in the bottom right corner.
"You tell me." Gail enlarged the image and a black slit appeared, slicing the yellow orb in half. When they looked even closer, the reflection of the front of the drop camera showed in the curve.
"Is it an eye?"
She took his hand and held it up to the screen. "If it is, then the eye would have to be the size of your hand to be at scale with what the drop camera picked up."
"Wow." She still held his hand. He didn't take it away. She could have it. "This is amazing."
"This is still only speculation."
"Of course, but what if Nessie is down there playing dead, so to speak? What if she came to check out the noise, but she knew it was us and hid?"
Gail dropped his hand and it flopped on the bed like a dead fish. "You're saying she's intelligent now, too?"
"She's survived all these centuries without being found. So yeah, I'd say she's developed great survival instincts."
Gail put her face in her hands. "Surviving centuries? I mean, sure, Bowhead whales live for centuries. Scientists found a nineteenth century harpoon inside a live one, and they estimate they can live for two hundred years. But you're talking since six hundred and sixty five AD. That's a lot longer than two hundred years. Do you know how ridiculous you sound?"
Flynn gave her his charming smile. It usually worked on women. "Only to you."
It didn't seem to work on Gail. She pulled out a notepad and scribbled Possibilities as the title on the blank page. "Let's talk about what else the image could be. Could someone have dropped a toy or a ball into the water?"
She wrote ball.
Flynn took the pen from her hand and crossed her word out. "Balls don't sink."
"Or a flashlight? Maybe a boat light that fell off?"
She took the pen back and wrote light.
"The battery would die." Flynn moved to grab the pen again, but she was quicker this time and held it away.
"Unless it was recent."
Flynn leaned toward her and wiggled his fingers at the pen as if he wanted it. "Why would the light blink off and on?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe the flashlight was dying right when the drop camera took the picture." Gail stashed the pen on the other side of the bed where he couldn't reach it. Unless he tackled her.
She clicked to the next image. "Two seconds later it's gone."
Breathing out in frustration, she crossed her arms. She looked more angry at the world than anything else.
Tackling her wouldn't be the best way to her heart. At least not right now. Flynn leaned back on the bed, positioning himself against the wall, and folded his hands in front of himself, trying to behave. "I'll tell you what. Tonight we'll go back to that same spot and sweep the bottom. We'll bring up whatever's down there and have a look."
She clicked off the screen and ate a spoonful of cereal. "All right. I'll go with that."
As she turned around to turn off computer screen, Flynn reached over and took the pen. He scribbled one word next to the others on her notepad. Eye.<
br />
The bed creaked under his weight, and Gail whirled around. Flynn leaned against the wall. He hid the pen underneath his hand.
She creased her brow and glanced down at the pad. Her eyes shot back up with fiery wrath. "Give me the pen."
"So you can cross it out? No."
"It's my pad of ideas."
"We're working together." He loved this new un-scientific facet to her, an inner rebelliousness.
She stuck out the palm of her hand. "Just give me the pen."
Flynn dangled it in front of him. "Come and get it."
"So we're five years old now, are we?"
He shrugged, not expecting her to go after it. She was so serious. He needed to have a little fun now and then. Flynn bit the end. "Guess you don't want it."
Gail lunged forward, surprising him with her speed and aggressiveness. Flynn grabbed her arm with his free hand. She moved in with the other hand, and he dropped the pen and took that one as well. She twisted in his grasp until they fell onto the bed. She wiggled one of her hands free and dug around him for the pen. Ticklish to a fault, he started hysterically laughing and reached out and tickled her on the stomach. She shrieked with laughter. That was the Gail Flynn wanted to get to know better.
"Did I miss something or are you guys just rolling around in the sack?"
They froze, twisted in each other's arms. Tom stood in the doorway with his toupee sideways. A smug grin curved his thick, mustached lips as if he wouldn't mind watching.
"We were researching a photograph." Gail shot up and grabbed her computer. She pulled her hair back and tied it in that tight ponytail Flynn didn't like as much, as if to say enough fun, now down to business.
"Sure you were." Tom put his hand on his hip and gave Flynn a thumbs-up.
Flynn recoiled with embarrassment and waved for him to put his thumb away. The last thing he wanted was to make Gail feel like a conquest in front of another man. A jerk, at that.
"Look here." Gail was back to full professional; the sweet smile he'd seen vanished from her lips. "And then again at this one."
Tom leaned over and squinted his beady eyes. A raw hunger stirred in the depths, making Flynn uneasy. "So, when are we going after it?"
Love on Loch Ness Page 3