Gail clicked the image and set it as her desktop. "Tonight."
****
The sun set in a gorgeous blaze of red and orange, but Gail was too busy dragging her equipment to the dock to admire it. If she'd asked Flynn, he would have helped her in a heartbeat, but she was already getting too close to him. So close she looked forward to the boat ride that night way too much.
Honestly, what's gotten into me? All the oxygen in the clean, crisp Scottish highland air was making her feel more alive than ever. It was nothing like the smell of gasoline, oil, and smog mingling in Boston's Back Bay. This place felt like a different world, a world where you could almost see tiny leprechauns running around with Loch Ness monsters and pots of gold.
She reminded herself tonight was strictly business and she was here to burst his bubble and prove him wrong. The more she got to know him, the harder that would become.
When Gail reached the Nessie, Flynn was already busy with his head down in the cabin, so she hefted her own suitcases onboard. Tom watched her struggle with ambivalence, then returned to setting up his cameras. Seeing him standing on the bow gave her a tug of recognition. The feeling came and went as quickly as a leprechaun trick. Too many men with bad toupees.
When she got a good look in the smudged windows of the cabin, Flynn was hunched over the controls, on his cell phone.
A current of unwarranted jealousy shot up her spine. Was he talking to his hon?
Tom caught her watching Flynn and gave her a curious raise of his eyebrows, almost asking if they were…. He was so gross.
Gail ignored him and began setting up her equipment. Tonight she'd send the drop camera in when they swept the bottom with Flynn's fishing net. If the net stirred anything up, she'd catch it either in the net or on camera.
"Ready to go?" Flynn's voice stopped her from calibrating the sonar echoes.
Gail turned around. "Ready as I'll ever be. What about you?" Her tone had an edge of skepticism to it. Where had this sassy attitude come from? Flynn had a right to make whatever calls he needed. He might be booking customers for his Loch Ness tours for all she knew.
"Yeah." Flynn stuck his phone in the pocket of his nice-fitting jeans. "Just had to make a call."
Gail wanted so badly to ask whom he'd called. She bit her tongue so the question didn't come out and went back to work. Flynn returned to the cabin and started the engine. The hum rumbled in her gut, stirring up apprehension and excitement.
A cool breeze blew over the lake and she slipped on the lavender sweater her mom bought her for Christmas the year before. The holidays were never the same without her dad. As Gail watched the water break before the boat, sending ripples throughout the lake, she thought of him. Would he approve of her work?
Using last night's coordinates, they anchored in the same spot just as the curve of the sun disappeared behind the hills and the sky turned deep purple and gray, like a bruise reflected on the water.
Flynn joined her on deck. "Is this spot good?" His hair had fallen in front of his left eye, and Gail wanted to reach up and brush the honey-blond lock behind his ear.
She kept her fingers on the controls and checked her radar. "Yes. It's perfect. The mass of vegetation is just beyond the hull." She dropped the drop camera into the water.
"Does the shape look the same?"
"Yes."
His shoulders sagged with disappointment.
"The same" meant non-living, unless the Loch Ness monster sat like a turtle on the bottom for days on end. Gail gave him an encouraging smile. "Let's drop the net and see."
The crank of the wheel lowering the net echoed over the lake. Every living thing within a mile would hear the rusty squeals. Good thing Flynn didn't make his living catching fish.
As the drop camera snapped pictures, the net scraped the bottom of the lake floor over seven hundred feet down. Gail tried to imagine the depth — half the height of the Empire State Building. She vacationed at Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire every summer and she'd always thought that water felt bottomless at over two hundred feet. Loch Ness was more than three times that depth.
Darkness had fallen by the time Flynn hauled the net back up. Tom videotaped while the mass hung above the water, dripping like a soggy mop of hair. A dank, rotting smell filled the air, and Gail covered her nose with her arm.
Flynn shone the boat lights on the deck. They stood back while he lowered the net and the contents sprawled out. Brown sludge splashed Gail's legs, making long smudges on her white pants. An icy chill spread through her clothes.
Flynn smiled apologetically. "Sorry."
"It's not your fault." Gail tried not to cringe. It was her fault for wearing white skinny jeans. That's what I get for wanting to look sexy for no good reason.
A few small fish wiggled at Gail's feet as she took a paddle and poked through the sludge. An old boot protruded from a tangle of string. Gail pulled it toward her and an eel squirmed out, lunging at her feet. She jumped back and shrieked.
"It's not gonna hurt you, honey," Tom teased.
Gail shot him a nasty look. She wasn't his honey. "It just startled me."
Flynn got down on his knees like a child at Christmas before a stack of presents. He pushed the eel over the rim back into the lake and dug through the sludge with his bare hands. "No lights, no toys, nothing." He glanced at Gail. "What could have made the orb on the screen?
"Aliens," Tom joked behind them. "It's got to be aliens."
Gail paddled through more of the muck. "I don't believe in aliens either."
"Look at this." Flynn pulled his hand from the sludge and opened his palm. In the center rested an ivory tooth the length of his forefinger and a good two inches wide at the base. "Who do you think this belongs to?"
Gail's mind ticked away, trying to place the tooth. "Pike have teeth, but nothing that big. It's too long and narrow to be a shark's tooth, not that sharks live in Loch Ness."
She picked up the tooth and smoothed her fingertip down the side. The bottom was an ugly yellow color with brown stains at the root. Whatever had had this tooth had it for a long time. "It reminds me of a Goliath Tigerfish, but they're native to the Congo River basin in Africa. Besides, this is way too big. The fish would have to be at least twenty feet long, and their maximum length is five feet."
"What you're trying to tell me is you don't have an answer." Flynn teased her with his smile.
"Not yet." Gail gave Flynn the tooth back and wiped her hands on her jeans. Not the best night to wear white. "Do you want me to send out some echo calls?"
"That would be great. I need to sort through the rest of this sludge and clean the deck." Flynn dangled a long strand of grassy moss then threw it back into the lake.
Tom turned his camera toward the water. "Hit the jukebox, Gaily-girl. We're gonna have us a parrrr-ty."
Tom's sense of humor was rearing its ugly head, and Gail didn't like it one bit. Noticing an embarrassing blunder, she walked up beside him and pressed the button on his camera. "Helps if you turn it on."
"I knew that." Tom's voice had an ugly, defensive edge. "I was just taking a break."
Gail gave Flynn a questioning look then returned to her equipment. What kind of videographer would forget to turn his camera on?
Chapter Six
Shirtless Men in Kilts
"We've played that wretched recording so many times, they're going to start thinking we're the Loch Ness monster." Tom shut his camera off. "There's nothing out there. Not tonight."
Flynn stretched from sitting in the back passenger seat for so long. The recording was getting to him as well, playing tricks on his mind. He'd heard the wailing call so many times, he couldn't tell what came from them and what came from the water. By the drowsy look on Gail's face, he doubted anything had come from the water.
"Any response, Gail?"
She shook her head and clicked the sonar echoes off. Silence fell.
Flynn battled with the urge to stay out there all night and conjure th
e beast up from sheer will. The research team had worked long hours already and they were lucky enough to have found the tooth. He needed to call it quits before Gail decided to pack up and fly back to Boston. The last thing he wanted to do was drive her away. "Okay, let's head home."
He dragged his feet to the controls and revved the engine. Once the motor started, he knew any chance of finding Nessie that night was gone. His clunky engine could scare the beetles right off the trees on shore.
As Flynn steered the boat home, the pressing tick of time breathed down his throat. He didn't know how long he still had, how long Tabitha could hold on.
We'll find it. I just have to keep believing.
His dad frowned upon his illogical pursuits. The old man would have been much prouder had Flynn chosen law or medicine instead of starting his own Loch Ness monster touring business. Flynn's mom urged him to follow his dreams.
Her words echoed in his head. "Your father chose the logical path, and look at him. Sitting at a desk job he hates, complaining about work every day. You have a special love for that lake, Flynn. Take your dream and make it happen."
Flynn ran his hands along the controls. He'd taken the money he'd saved for college and used all of it to buy the Nessie. At the time he'd thought the ship was totally worth it, but these days he questioned his decision more and more.
When they reached the dock, Flynn shut off the motor and approached the team as Gail packed up her equipment and Tom reviewed his images. "I know the weekend's coming and I have tours to do, but I was wondering if we could meet tomorrow morning and review our findings thus far?"
"No can do." Tom hoisted his equipment over his shoulder. "I've got plans. I'm outta here." He jumped over the rail to the dock. "See ye Monday, guys."
Gail watched him leave, suspicion brewing in her mind. Why did his accent constantly change? Where was he from, really?
Without Tom, they'd have to wait. He owned all the video equipment. Gail's drop camera, as cool as the device was, mostly took pictures of murky smudges. It was designed as an oceanic tool, not something for the clogged congestion of Loch Ness. If they wanted a clear shot, it would have to be above water.
Flynn leaned on the railing and crossed his arms, trying not to feel too disappointed. "Got any plans?"
Gail snapped the case shut. "I'm planning on visiting the local library and searching through their records."
"That won't take all weekend. I've scoured everything about Loch Ness and come up empty a million times."
She arched an eyebrow. "Maybe I'll find something you missed."
"Tell you what…" He grabbed both her hands as she wrapped her fingers around the handle, stopping her in her tracks. "I have an extra seat on Sunday evening's six p.m. tour — the last tour of the day. Want to come? We can discuss your findings at the library afterward. By the way, I've got this case."
Gail shifted uncomfortably, as if when he gazed at her he saw too much. "I don't know. I have a lot of work to do."
"It's the weekend! You've got to have some fun. Besides, the customers would love to meet a real marine biologist. It would be good for my business." Flynn flashed his charming smile for good measure. "Pretty please, with Loch Ness sludge on top?"
"All right." Gail pulled her hands away from his. "As long as you don't make me talk about the Loch Ness monster."
"Not necessary." Excitement rushed through him. She'd just said yes to a date! Well, sort of a date. Maybe he'd melt her icy façade after all. He hoisted her suitcases and gave her a wicked grin. "That's my job."
****
Gail collapsed on her bed in the cabin, wondering how she'd ever agreed to seeing Flynn outside of work.
Was it a date?
It couldn't be if Flynn had a hon he talked to all the time on the phone. Unless he was a two-timer? No. Gail refused to think of the open-faced charmer as a Scottish Don Juan, romancing all the women like the shirtless highlander men wearing kilts on those historical romance covers. He seemed too open, too genuine to keep two women at once.
It was his obsession with the Loch Ness monster. Asking her out was another way to continue their research without Tom.
That idea was safe and disappointing at the same time. It had been a long time since she'd felt anything romantic for anyone. She had to remind herself love was something she didn't believe in, along with the Loch Ness monster. She shouldn't be traveling down a path she couldn't finish.
So, research it was.
Gail slipped off her sludge-stained pants and sweater and put on an old T-shirt her father bought her years ago that read "Questioning is the door of knowledge."
Boy, had she been questioning a lot lately. Settling under the covers, she thought her father would be proud.
Sleep came easily and for once, she had no dreams.
When the alarm woke her at nine, it felt like the night had gone by in the blink of a yellow-orbed eye. Gail showered and went downstairs to raid the kitchen. Flynn had left her a plate of chocolate frosted doughnuts with a message that read, "Touring all day today. Won't be in tonight. See you tomorrow at 6 p.m."
Hmmm… not coming back tonight. Hadn't he said on the phone he was going to try to try to stop by and visit his hon this weekend? Gail pushed the jealous thought from her mind. It really was none of her business. At least he'd been thoughtful enough to leave a note along with breakfast.
Gail called a cab company and asked for a ride to the Inverness Library. When she'd first signed up for this research grant, she'd decided she'd leave driving on the opposite side of the road to the natives.
Taking her laptop, the pad Flynn had scribbled on, and the doughnut with the most frosting, she left the cabin. With all this hiking in the woods, one doughnut wasn't going to do much. Eating the whole plate might…
Gail stumbled down the hillside and met the cab at the same place where she'd been dropped off. Looking in the driver's window, she recognized the familiar puff of cigar smoke.
Great. What I need is a translator.
"Guid morning! Hou ar ye, lass?"
Gail slipped onto the passenger seat, surprised she understood him. All this time in the Scottish highlands was rubbing off on her. "A little tired but doing well. Getting work done."
He put his blinker on and turned onto the road. "Found yer monster yet, hae ya?"
Gail stared at the ceiling and took a deep breath. Had he even been listening last time? "I told you, I'm not looking for a monster. I'm looking for the truth."
He grinned as though he knew all along she'd say that and was teasing her. "Guess ye hae ta keep lookin' then."
They rode the twenty-minute drive in silence. When he turned away from Loch Ness, relief calmed Gail. She breathed deeply, relishing every second as if the hushed atmosphere of the lake had constricted her lungs. Even though the thought was ridiculous, she felt as though Loch Ness watched her every move.
The bustle of Inverness brought some form of normal to her world. At fifty-six thousand people, the city reminded her a little of a Boston suburb. The familiar smells of food mingled with car exhaust. The sounds of traffic were ingrained in Gail ever since she'd gone to college in the big city. For a moment, she forgot the eerie stillness of Loch Ness, along with its intermittent bird calls and hushed breaths of wind.
Man, if they drove on the right side of the road, I'd just stay at a hotel here. She'd be farther from Flynn.
Stop thinking about him and get to work.
Gail paid the driver with another hefty tip and stepped onto the curb before the Inverness Library. Designed with thick Romanesque columns, the library loomed like a giant against the street. Surely the large conglomeration of books would have some information she could use in her work.
Gail found an empty table, plugged her laptop in, and dug into the numerous files. So many sightings had happened over the years, it was hard not to consider something real underlying their stories. The more Gail read, the more she battled with her urge to believe.
Cha
pter Seven
A Little Boy's Dreams
"I don't see any monsters." A six-year-old boy with cherry-red corduroy overalls and a sticky face chewed on his candy bar and threw the wrapper on the dock. With his haughty British accent, the boy sounded like he'd come right off the set of a BBC production.
Flynn grabbed the wrapper as it flew into the breeze and stuffed it into his pocket. He crouched next to the boy. "Well, they're not going to just come out and do a dance for ye. Looking's half the fun."
The boy turned back to his mom. "Mommy, do we have to go on the boat? I'd rather play ninja warrior"
"Come on, Ian. It'll be fun. Daddy's gonna take your picture at the helm." She reached into her purse and pulled out a wad of pound notes.
Flynn counted the money quickly. She'd given him a hefty tip. "Thank you, ma'am." Sometimes he made more from tips and selling candy bars than selling seats. He bent down and winked at the boy. "When we get to the center, I'll let you steer the boat."
"Really?" Ian jumped up and down.
"Really." Flynn glanced up the hill and his chest felt like it would burst.
She'd come.
Gail jogged down the mossy greens in a tight lavender sweater and a long floral skirt tapering above black high heels. She'd sure dressed like it was a date. Instead of her bulky equipment, she brought a tiny handheld camera. He tried not to stare as she walked down the dock. His fingers fiddled with the rope that tied his boat to the mooring.
"So, how much is the tour?" Gail's voice caused him to whirl around a little faster than he expected.
"For you, it's free."
She crossed her arms. "I can't have you losing money just to have a marine biologist on board."
"I told you. No one bought the seat. I'd rather have the tour look full."
Gail sighed and dropped her arms by her sides. "Okay, but I'm buying drinks afterward."
His chest tightened. "Drinks?"
"Yeah. I found something at the library yesterday. It's nothing big, but definitely a clue."
Love on Loch Ness Page 4