by Blaire Edens
“I heard from him about a week ago. He called and told me he was okay. He wouldn’t give me any new details, but he wanted me to know he was safe.”
Spencer reached over and took Lucy’s hand. She squeezed it. In his touch, she felt his relief.
“I should start from the beginning,” Bette began. “Twenty years ago, I was still living in South Carolina. I was born and raised there on the edge of Scape Ore Swamp. When my only son was a little boy, just five years old, he came home one afternoon, wide-eyed and scared to death. He told me he’d seen something coming out of the swamp. A big lizard, he said, with sharp claws and big teeth.
“I thought he was just telling me tall tales since he hadn’t come when I called him for supper. A week or two later, he went missing again. I knew, in my mother’s heart, that something terrible had happened. I went into that swamp and called his name for hours. He never came home.”
“Miss Bette, that’s heartbreaking. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She nodded. “Thank you, son, but I can’t dwell on it. Not if I’m going to finish my story. I’ll think about my little Christopher when you two are gone.” She picked up a mug from the table beside her and took a sip. “Anyway, when I couldn’t find him, I called the sheriff, the game warden, even the county fire department. They all pretended to search, but they never turned up anything.
“The thought of my little boy, out there in that dark swamp, all by himself is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever had to imagine. After a month or two, the lady at the library told me about your father.”
“That he knew the swamp?”
“He knew the swamp, and he believed that the Lizard Man, a legend I’d heard since I was a child, was real.”
“He agreed to look for Christopher?”
“He was the only one who really ever helped me. The police thought I should’ve been watching him more closely. For a while, they even suspected I might have been the one to hurt him.” Tears welled in the corners of Bette’s eyes. “I loved that child more than life.”
Lucy believed her.
Why hadn’t Walter told his wife or Spencer that he was looking into the disappearance of a local child? There would’ve been no harm in it, would there?
“As the years went by, we built a friendship. Both of us spent our spare time researching the Lizard Man and sharing information. We devised a little code and wrote letters back and forth. Even though we never found Chris, I always thought that if we figured out what happened to him, we might be able to save other children.”
“Did he find anything?”
“Over the years, he found the occasional track, heard sounds that he couldn’t explain, but nothing definite until last year. Several times, he’d caught a glimpse of something he believed to be the Lizard Man.”
Both Spencer and Lucy leaned forward.
“The last time he went into the swamp, the day you discovered the letters I’d written him, he saw the Lizard Man and got a nine-minute video of the creature.”
Lucy’s stomach did a somersault. It was the dream of every crypto enthusiast to get undeniable proof. “Where’s the file?”
“He took it with him.”
“Where?” Spencer’s voice had an edge to it.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. He called me the morning after he got the film and told me he was calling the local wildlife folks. Later that afternoon, he called again. He was terrified.”
“Why?”
“When he told them what he had, they turned threatening and demanded that he turn the evidence over to them and never speak of it again. He knew they were coming to get him, so he ran. Left his truck at the edge of the swamp, bought a junker for cash and left town.”
“Where?” Spencer asked again.
“He only gave me one clue, and I haven’t been able to make heads or tails of it.” She rose from her chair. “I’ll show you.” She ambled to the kitchen and opened a drawer and rummaged around.
Lucy’s eyes met Spencer’s and she saw the worry there. “We’ll find him,” she whispered. “No matter what it takes.”
Bette returned with an envelope in her hand. She passed it to Spencer before settling back into her chair.
Postmarked in Atlanta, the envelope gave no real clues. He opened it and pulled a scrap of paper from the inside. It read:
I’m going to a safe place. If you need to find me, solve this riddle.
You may think that I’ve found gold,
But it’s an old story that’s always told
About a man whose life was changed
By things pre-arranged.
In the rocks I will be until a clear way
I can see.
Walter
“My father always loved riddles.” Spencer shook his head and tucked the paper back into the envelope. “Any ideas?”
Bette shook her head. “I’ve been mulling over it since it came in the mail, but I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Lucy?”
The wheels in her brain were already spinning. “Not yet.” But she, too, loved a good riddle, and with a little time and Google, she was confident she could figure out Walter’s location. “Can we take this with us?”
“Sure you can,” Bette said. “The Good Lord knows I’ve got it memorized.”
After exchanging contact information, Spencer said, “Thank you, Ms. Bette. We really appreciate your help.”
“You’ll call me when you find Walter? I’d like to know he’s okay.”
“You have my word on that,” Spencer said.
“We’ll find him. You don’t need to worry,” Lucy assured her. “You’ve helped a lot.”
Bette showed them to the door. “I sure hope so.”
“I never, ever expected that,” Spencer said when they got back into the car, headed to the hotel. “For more than a decade, I hated this woman, felt nauseated at just the mention of her name, and it was all a mistake. She was a kind woman who had a totally platonic relationship with Dad. They were two people trying to help each other. Dad told the truth. There never was an affair. Nothing close.”
“I didn’t expect it, either. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when she opened the door. Although, I kind of suspected there wasn’t an affair when I saw the lawn. I can’t see anyone in your family allowing a public display of gnomes.”
Spencer laughed. “That’s probably one of my mother’s worst nightmares.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, glad that it wasn’t an affair after all.”
He turned onto LPGA Boulevard and drove toward the hotel. “Me, too. For the first time in ages, I’m not angry at my dad.”
Back at the hotel, they ordered a pizza and after a quick shower, Lucy settled with a slab of pepperoni, a pen and paper, and her laptop.
“The best way to solve a riddle is to pull back, be objective, and not to take it literally,” she said. “Let’s brainstorm, call out ideas, words, phrases that seem to relate to the riddle. When we got through the whole thing, we can start synthesizing information. It’s too much to try to solve it all at once.”
“I’m not very good at these. I never have been.”
“We have to try.” She read the riddle aloud. “Gold. That’s a clue.”
“Mines, wedding rings, coins,” Spencer listed.
Lucy doodled on the top corner of the page in front of her. It wasn’t until she realized that she’d drawn a tiny Golden Gate Bridge that she thought of the most obvious connection to gold. “California!”
“An old story that’s always told. So a well-known, timeless story.”
“King Arthur, Aesop, Grimm’s.”
The focus was too wide. This wasn’t just any riddle; this was a riddle written by someone who knew the people who might be reading it. That meant some of the clues might be obvious only the them. “What’s your favorite book?”
“To Kill a Mockingbird.”
Lucy read through the riddle again with the story in mind but i
t didn’t work. There was no gold, no predestination and no one lived in rocks. “What was your dad’s favorite?”
“Tolkien. He read The Lord of the Rings Trilogy several times, but he loved The Hobbit. I took him to see all the movies, and he loved those, too.”
Bingo. It had been a long time, but Lucy had read those books, too. The third and fourth lines could easily refer to Bilbo Baggins. “So we’ve got California and Bilbo Baggins. Where in California would Bilbo hide?”
It was an absurd question, one she never imagined she’d ask herself or anyone else.
“I don’t think he’d go to California.”
“Why not?”
Spencer shrugged. “It just doesn’t feel right.”
“Then it might be the perfect place to hide.” It made sense that Walter would chose a place no one would expect. “He’s got a year’s head start, so he could be anywhere in the world.”
“He’s in the United States. I don’t think he’d leave the country.”
“The other complicated part is that he’s a survivalist. He could, as the riddle suggests, be literally living under a rock.” Lucy wiped her hands on a napkin and rose to pace the carpet. “Hobbit rocks in California, Hobbit Gold, Gold Mines. Hobbit hell.” She didn’t even have anything she could Google yet. “I’m usually good at riddles.”
She sat down on the edge of the bed, and Spencer sat beside her.
He placed his arm around her. “Maybe we just need a break. Want to go for a walk?”
She shook her head. “I’m not leaving this room until we solve this riddle.”
“It’s a good thing the pizza place delivers.”
Lucy swatted at him with her notebook. “Have a little faith.”
By midnight, Lucy was exhausted. “I’m getting no closer,” she said, shutting her computer and placing it on the nightstand. “I need a break.” She fell back onto the pillows and closed her eyes.
“Let’s call it a night,” Spencer said, clicking off the lamps and shucking down to his boxers. He slipped into bed beside her and was just kissing her neck when her cell phone rang.
“Who the hell could that be?” She unlocked it and saw that it was Jacob. “I need to take this. It’s a colleague. I’ll be right back.” She walked out onto the balcony and closed the door behind her. “Hello?”
“Hey, babe.” Jacob’s voice was mellow, and she realized that it had been nearly two weeks since she’d heard it. “What’s new?”
In the background, she heard Pink Floyd, and it transported her back to all the nights they’d spent in his apartment, drinking good wine and discussing music and books and science. “I got a case.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She tried to ignore the disapproval she heard in his voice but she couldn’t. “I know you think I should leave the crypto stuff behind, but I love it.”
“I’m not telling you to leave it behind. I’m only saying it might be better to not pursue it so actively.”
They were already back to the same conflict that had driven them apart before. “It’s the only way I have to make a living at the moment. You know that.”
“That’s one of the reasons I called you. There’s a teaching job at the tech school. It would be perfect for you.”
The idea of going back to teaching had its appeal. Health insurance, flexible schedule, regular paycheck. “But would they hire me?”
“I talked to the dean, told him how amazing you are. He wants to talk to you.”
“When?”
“Can you come next week?”
She had no idea how long it was going to take to find Walter and put this case to bed, but she was committed to staying the course. And, plus, if they found Walter and the video was legitimate, she might have actual proof that the Lizard Man existed. That would land her more than a tech school job. It might allow her to hop back onto the tenure track. “I’m not sure.”
“That’s not the answer I wanted to hear. He needs to fill the position for the fall semester, and you’re pretty much a shoe-in.”
Should she leave Daytona, hop a flight back tonight and meet with the dean tomorrow? She didn’t have the heart to leave Spencer, when he was this close to finding his father, alone. Over the past few days, she’d grown very close to him, and she wouldn’t disappoint him. Not like that. It was rapidly becoming more than just a friendship, more than just a fling.
“I’m sorry, Jacob. I have to finish this case first.”
He exhaled. “I’d hoped you’d be excited to get back to teaching, get back to me.”
If he’d called her just a couple of weeks ago, she’d have jumped at the chance but now, things were a little different.
“It’s just that. . . ” She had no idea how to explain it to him. “Can I call you later in the week?”
“I’ll be around.” He disconnected.
Lucy leaned against the railing and looked out at the roiling waves of the Atlantic. She’d always wanted to be a full-time cryptozoological investigator, and now she was getting that chance. Even though she’d fallen into the job flat on her ass, she was living that dream, but for some reason, it didn’t stop her from feeling confused.
She and Spencer had made no promises to each other, so why did talking to Jacob make her feel so guilty?
CHAPTER SIX
Spencer woke to the sound of a maid vacuuming the hallway outside their door. He sat up in bed and yelled, “Eureka!”
The answer to the riddle had come to him in one perfect chunk. He wanted to rush out the door and wrap his arms around the maid. Instead, he nudged Lucy.
“What the hell?” Lucy rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. “Are you okay?”
“The riddle. I figured it out.”
“In a dream?”
“The vacuum cleaner. It jogged something in my brain. Where’s the riddle?”
Eyes still less than half-opened, she grabbed it from the bedside table and handed it to him. He opened it and read the riddle aloud before turning to her with a huge smile on his face. “He’s in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes. “That’s pretty random. Explain.”
“Eureka is the state motto of California which is known for gold. He’s living in a cave because his life totally changed because of circumstances out of his control, just like Bilbo Baggins.”
It was so incredibly obvious he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it sooner.
“It seems like a long shot,” Lucy grumbled.
“My dad took me there once when I was a teenager. He said something strange. At the time I brushed it off, but now, I understand.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘This is a place where I could disappear.’”
“That is pretty obvious.”
“It’s a sure bet.”
She raised one eyebrow. “How long will it take us to get there?”
“A long time. Let’s hit the road.”
They showered, packed their bags and checked out. Less than an hour later, they were roaring north on I-95. “We can be there by midnight,” Lucy said, looking at her phone. “How hard will it be to find him when we get there?”
Spencer changed lanes. “I can find the old man.”
Fifteen hours, four fast-food drive-thrus and five states later, they drove into Eureka Springs, Arkansas. It was well past two in the morning and nothing was open. Located in the northwestern corner of the state, in the Ozark Mountains, it was a small town. Spencer rolled down the windows and let the cool mountain air rush into the car. After the time they’d spent in South Carolina and Florida, the temperature difference was a welcome respite.
“Can we find a place to stay tonight?” Lucy asked.
“I guess we should have called ahead.”
After driving through town several times, she said, “There’s not even a stoplight here. Let’s go back to Highway 62. Surely there’s some place we can find a room.”
He took her suggestion and an hour later, they had chec
ked into the Quality Inn. Lucy collapsed onto the bed and stretched. “Want to shower first?”
“We both need one. Why not together?”
She liked that idea. “Why not, indeed?”
* * *
The next morning, rested and sated, they drove back to Eureka Springs. The place was alive with eclectic places to eat and shop. It was picturesque and quaint, and Lucy fell in love with it instantly.
“I wouldn’t mind hiding here, but I think I’d pick a bed and breakfast instead of a cave.”
“Lightweight.” Spencer placed his hand on her thigh, and she loved the way his palm felt against her skin.
“Yeah, right. You don’t remember the camping in the swamp part?”
“Oh, I remember. For several reasons.”
“Perv.”
“Guilty.”
The parked the car on a side street and walked through the small downtown area. Outside a restaurant, they found a rack filled with touristy brochures. “Maybe we can find a lead here,” Lucy said, grabbing a couple of brochures.
“I’ll bet this is it.” Spencer held up a glossy brochure advertising the Eureka Springs Treehouses, Caves, Castles and Hobbits.
“That definitely matches the riddle.”
They followed the directions on the map and drove west out of downtown on Highway 62. They turned on Rock Pivot Road and the place came into view. It was as if they’d driven into a fairy tale world, filled with the real-life equivalent of the illustrations Lucy remembered from the books she’d read as a child.
“I’ll sit in the car while you go inside,” she said. “I don’t want to spook your dad if he’s here.”
After a few minutes, Spencer returned. “I had to lie and tell them there was a family emergency. He’s in the Hobbit Cave.”
“Obviously.”
They walked around a winding foot path until they reached a small door seemingly carved into the side of a small hill. “I’m guessing we’ve arrived,” Spencer said. He knocked on the door and after a minute that seemed like an hour, it opened.
“Dad?”
An older man rushed out of the door and gathered Spencer into a bear hug. “Son!”