"Me either."
"It happened right before we got to the clearing. He's like a mountain man that lives off the grid. Anyway, we were up there to talk to him about the phone he left with Cheryl, one that belonged to Margaret Jones."
"Cheryl's with the newspaper, right? The one you called last week to find out if there were any sightings in this area?"
"Yeah."
"And you said this guy actually found that girl's phone and gave it to her?"
"Yeah."
"And he was killed right before you were able to talk to him?"
"Yeah." Brian sighed. "Chances are he wouldn't have said much anyway. That's why he tried turning in the phone without anyone knowing he was the one who found it."
"How'd he do that?"
"He left it on Cheryl's porch."
"Then how does she know it was him?"
"His fingerprints were on it."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Alice thought about this while sipping her coffee, questioning why the sheriff or chief or whatever he was wouldn't have already learned everything there was to learn from the man about how he had found the phone. Then again, maybe he had been questioned and hadn't provided anything useful.
But then why would Cheryl want to go up there and talk to him?
If she knew about the fingerprints, then it seems reasonable to assume she knew about whatever investigative route unfolded around the phone as well.
Or did she?
And why hasn’t Annie shown up?
Is she simply a crank, or did something happen to her?
"What is it?" Brian asked.
"I'm just curious—" She paused, the waitress bringing over a tray of food.
"Anything else?" the waitress asked after everything was set before them.
"Just more coffee," Brian said. Then, once the waitress left to get the pot, "Curious about what?"
"First, why do you think Annie never showed up? You seemed pretty sure she was legit."
"I have no idea, but from what Cheryl told me, the girl may not have been on the level. For starters, she wasn't Margaret's sister, but her girlfriend, and before contacting me, she had tried selling the phone footage to Cheryl at the newspaper rather than simply turning it over to the police. On top of that, the phone that the footage supposedly came from is in police custody, yet there isn't any video of an attack on it."
"This is a phone that mysteriously showed up on Cheryl's porch, was turned over to the police, and then yesterday morning, for no apparent reason, they decided to tell her that they found prints on it and that they belonged to that man who was then killed shortly before you could talk to him?"
Brian had been about to break his yolks with a fork, but paused.
"Is it just me, or does it all seem a little too tidy?"
Brian didn't reply, but from the look on his face, Alice could tell he was thinking things over very carefully.
Alice speared some potatoes while he did this, and then, after chewing them and taking a sip of coffee, said, "Something isn't right here, and I think Annie not showing up is part of it. Have you tried calling her?"
"Not yet. Cell phones don't really work here, and they won't let me make long-distance calls from the motel."
"So."
"So?"
"Have you tried to find a different phone you can call from?"
"Like what, a pay phone? Have you seen any pay phones? I haven't."
Alice crossed her arms.
"Sorry," Brian said. "I was actually planning on using Cheryl's phone today."
"Cheryl's? Do you think that's a good idea?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" he asked.
"I don't know, it all just seems too…" She couldn't find the right words.
Brian waited.
"I don't trust her," Alice said. It was the best she could do.
Brian didn't try to counter that and instead went about eating his breakfast.
7
"Mr. Goldman?" a female voice called as the two stepped from the rental vehicle toward the motel room.
Brian turned.
A young lady was standing by the motel office door, hand waving to get his attention.
"Is that Annie?" Alice asked.
"I have no idea," Brian replied. He didn't actually know what Annie looked like, her Facebook profile picture being an image of Rey from the new Star Wars movie.
The two walked toward the office.
"Yes?" he asked once they were near.
"Sorry to bother you, but you have a message."
"Oh, from who?" And who are you? he wanted to add, but didn't.
"Someone named Annie Morgan. She called while you were out. Said she was really sorry, but she wasn't going to make it after all."
Brian looked at Alice, who stared back at him.
He turned back to the girl from the office. "Was that it, just that she couldn't make it?"
"Um…yeah."
"Did she give a reason why?"
"No, just said she was sorry and that she wasn't going to make it."
Brian considered this, looked at Alice again, and then said, "Okay, thank you."
"Yep. Need anything else?"
"No, we're good."
"Okay. If you do, my name is Elaine. I'm watching the front desk today."
"Oh, where is Beverly?"
"Not sure."
"Okay."
Elaine smiled and then made as if to turn back to the office, moving slowly just in case they did decide they needed anything.
They didn't, and headed toward the room.
"You know that's bullshit, right?" Alice asked once they were in the room. "I mean, after all the time you two spent talking, and then the plans that were made, and then she simply calls after not showing up for two days with a simple, 'Sorry, can't make it’ message. That's bullshit."
Brian wanted to agree, but then, after everything Cheryl had told him about the girl, he wondered if maybe it was true. Maybe it was all bullshit, but bullshit from her.
Then again, he had seen something run across the road yesterday, and someone had killed the old man, hit Chief Parker, and dragged Cheryl into the woods.
"Hey, do you have her phone number handy?" Alice asked.
"It's on my phone, why?"
"I think it's time you called her."
"But—" he started to say.
She held up a hand. "I know, I know, no phone in here and no long-distance calls from the office."
"So…?" he asked.
"So…" she said and then walked into the bathroom.
He stood there, staring at her through the open door as she pulled the lid off the toilet tank and looked inside. A second later, she flushed the toilet and then, once the water drained out from the back, reached inside and yanked on something.
"Ta-da." She wiped her hands on a hand towel. "She asked if we needed anything, and we do. We need our toilet fixed. And while she is helping me with that, you give Annie a call from the office."
Brian didn't know what to say, his eyes going from the toilet to his wife and then back to the toilet.
"Come on," she said and started toward the door.
Brian followed, the sound of running water echoing from the bathroom.
A few seconds later, they were entering the office, wind chime echoing as Alice stepped in, Brian behind her.
"Do you have a bathroom in here?" Alice asked.
"What?" Elaine asked, startled.
"A bathroom, my husband has serious IBS and our toilet isn't working. He needs a toilet ASAP, or else he's going to shit all over the place."
What the fuck!? Brian projected toward her.
Elaine must have interpreted his look as one of panic, because she quickly said, "Yeah, it's back here," hand pointing the way.
Acting the part, Brian hurried toward where she pointed and closed the door once he was inside, listening for the sound of the wind chime as the two left.
It took several seconds, bu
t eventually he heard it.
He waited a second and then stepped out, heart racing as he peered down the tiny hallway toward the front desk and the office beyond.
It was empty.
He hurried to the phone while pulling his own cell phone out to look at the number, and then, eyes going from one to the other, dialed.
The call went straight to voicemail.
"Annie, this is Brian Goldman. We were supposed to meet in Crystal Creek, but you didn't show up. I just got a message from the desk at the motel that you said you were sorry but couldn't make it. Can you call and confirm that, please? Something odd is going on here, and I would like to hear it from you myself, just to make sure it really is you and that you're not coming. Thanks." He put the phone back on the base, unsure if the message would do any good. Should he have said more? Could he have said more?
He stared at the phone, sensing that something more could have been done.
And then it clicked.
The phone had caller ID.
He picked up the handset again and used the arrow key to backtrack through the calls that had come in, looking for one with an area code that matched Annie's phone.
No calls had come in that morning, nor any the day before, or the day before that. It wasn't until he had gone all the way back to Wednesday that he saw a call from her area code, one that he then checked with the number on his phone to make sure all the digits matched.
They did.
Wednesday.
On Thursday the two had spoken during his break at work, and she had told him she had made a reservation the day before.
Beverly Volt had lied.
Now the question was, why?
And what had happened to Annie?
These questions followed him as he started around the desk toward the front door.
Behind him, the phone rang.
He turned and headed back to the desk to see who it was, a tiny part of his mind putting forward the possibility that it could be Annie, while the rest was already dismissing it based on her phone having been off and his suspicions that something had happened to her when she arrived in town.
It wasn't Annie, but Cheryl.
What was she calling about?
Was she trying to reach him?
Did she know that Beverly was lying about Annie?
Was she a part of it?
Indecision gripped him.
Now or never.
Now!
He answered the phone.
8
"Brian?" Cheryl said, caught off guard. "Where's Beverly?"
"I don't know. A young lady was watching the front desk when we got back from breakfast."
"We?"
"My wife and I."
"Your wife? When did she get here?"
"Last night."
"Oh." Cheryl didn't know what else to say.
"So, what’s up?" Brian asked.
“What's up” was that she wanted to talk to Beverly but didn't really want Brian to know that, so she said, "I was actually calling to see if you still wanted to try and call Annie from my office phone since you said they won't let you make calls from there."
"Actually, Annie finally got back to me, so that's all straightened out."
"Really?" Cheryl said, somewhat startled. "Okay, well…" She was kind of hoping he would expand upon that, but he didn't, so she asked, "So now what?"
"Not sure. I still want to check out the place that Margaret Jones was staying at before heading back to Chicago, see if anything catches my attention."
Chimes echoed, and suddenly Brian was talking to someone beyond the phone—something about a toilet.
Cheryl waited, concern building. The whole reason Beverly had wanted her to take Brian up to see Marlon Gibbs yesterday was to distract him from the area that Margaret Jones had been in so that he wouldn't poke around the cabin. Cheryl wasn't really sure why Beverly had been so adamant about him not seeing that area, but given the panic she had heard in her girlfriend's voice when she told her of his plans, she knew that there was something up there that she didn't want him to see.
Of course, neither one had expected Brendon to make an appearance near the Gibbs place, or to kill him.
The whole point of trying to talk to Marlon Gibbs was to waste Brian's time while in Crystal Creek so that he wouldn't have anything to report when he went back home.
The last thing they needed was for Bigfoot enthusiasts to start venturing into their area.
Yet now that seemed more likely than ever, thanks to Brendon and his stupid costume.
I should have simply shot him so that everyone could see it was a fucking retard in a costume.
But then Chief Parker might have realized Brendon could be responsible for Margaret Jones disappearing, and then look deeper into things, and that wouldn't be good either.
If only that stupid video hadn't gotten sent.
This thought once again led to a question on who had sent it.
It just didn't make any sense.
"Cheryl?" Brian asked, returning to the phone.
"Yeah, I'm here." Then, before she could really contemplate whether or not it was a good idea, she said, "Do you want me to come with you when you look at the cabin? It will be easier for you to find if you have someone who knows that area."
"Oh, um, yeah, that might be good. Let me just talk to Alice about it, see what she wants to do, and I'll get back to you."
"Okay."
"Talk to you soon."
"Yep."
"Bye."
Cheryl stared at the phone.
She needed to talk to Beverly, but had no idea where she was or how to reach her.
Where would she have gone?
Was it up the mountain to scold Brendon for everything he had done yesterday?
Was she going to lock him back up in the cave so that he couldn't come out?
She should have done that to begin with.
As soon as they had known the Bigfoot guy was coming.
But no, she had been convinced that simply talking to him and telling him how disappointed she was with him for what he’d done to Margaret Jones was all that was needed.
After all these years, after all he had done, she still thought she could control him.
It was crazy.
But maybe now she had realized her mistake and would fix it.
Maybe things could still be salvaged.
Maybe you could—
No!
She cut the thought off. Killing Brendon would be one thing. She had wanted to do that for years. But knowing what it would do to Beverly was another, and then having to betray her as well. She just couldn't do it. It was either stick with Beverly and reap the rewards, or leave Crystal Creek forever and start over somewhere, something which she knew wouldn't be wise given her lack of money, lack of references, and lack of journalistic abilities. Penning articles for Crystal Creek was one thing, but doing it for larger, more established papers…that just wasn't practical—especially in this day and age when there was more talent than positions available.
Then again, if she were to break a story about a serial killer who masqueraded as Bigfoot, a story that would already have some attention from what Brian would write once he got back to Chicago, then maybe her lack of talent wouldn't be noticed right away, and she could reap the rewards of the story going viral rather than waiting for Beverly to find the source of the gems Margaret had uncovered.
Once again, she shut the thought down. The idea of having to betray Beverly, betray the only person she had ever fallen for, was too much.
She just couldn't do it.
9
"Beverly, I just don't know. It seems…I don't know, a bit far-fetched, like something out of a movie rather than real life." Quinn put a hand to his head while talking and momentarily considered popping another Vicodin.
"But see, that's why it makes sense to me. She's a writer, after all. Not a very good one, but a writer nonetheless, which is why this is playin
g out like something that was scripted. She's plotted it."
"But why?" Quinn asked.
"To get attention. Her paper has been DOA ever since she took ownership of it, and nothing she writes ever gets any attention, so she decided to create a fantastic scenario involving Bigfoot."
He started to shake his head but then thought better of it and instead sipped his coffee.
Beverly followed suit with her own.
"So, Margaret Jones," Quinn said, trying to wrap his mind around what Beverly was suggesting. "You think Cheryl had something to do with her disappearance?"
"No, no, no, I think Margaret Jones was the inspiration, especially once her story got picked up by other papers. She liked having them ask for permission to use it and realized she was going to have to do something so that she could continue to get requests. Only how do you continue something like that if there is no more news?" She waited a second. "You create news. The phone is a perfect example. All of a sudden she had a phone that supposedly belonged to the girl? One that someone else is saying shows a Bigfoot attack?"
"The phone really did belong to Margaret Jones," Quinn said. "I had it checked out."
"Really?" She seemed genuinely baffled by this. "Well then, maybe she was responsible for Margaret's disappearance as well. How else would she have the phone?"
"And the person who attacked me, you really think that was Brendon?"
"As much as I hate to say it given that he's my brother, I think that's exactly who she's working with."
"But how? Growing up, she was constantly filing complaints against him for touching her and assaulting her."
"Yeah, but see, that's why it works so well. He's been obsessed with her for years and she knew this, which is why she always teased him in school. Now she's doing it again. She uses his obsession with her to get him to do what she wants. Hell, as awful as it would be, she might even be having sex with him, which would explain where he has disappeared to. I mean, he always preferred living in the woods rather than living here at the motel, especially given the abuse, but he often would come back once I took over and stay in one of the rooms for several days before venturing back out. Now he doesn't."
Quinn thought about this and while he still had his doubts, he realized it was plausible, especially given how easy it was to manipulate Brendon. The poor guy had never really had much of a chance, what with his mother being beaten several times by her father in an effort to induce a miscarriage while he was in her belly, and then the beatings he suffered as a kid. It had been so bad that Quinn himself had often wanted to take Beverly's grandfather into the woods and beat him within an inch of his life, but he couldn't, because the man was friends with, and had business dealings with, Chief Cavanaugh.
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