Thrill Squeaker

by Christy Barritt

  “Unfortunately. I’m still not sure what just happened. Was there more than one creature—er, person—out here?”

  “Or it was someone who knew these woods so well that could move quickly across this landscape.” Riley shook his head again. “We should head back.”

  I glanced at the darkness around me and shivered again. For a moment, I lost all sense of direction, and I had no idea which end was up or which way we should go. “Provided we can figure out how to get back.”

  Riley tapped on his watch. “It should be southeast from here. I checked right as we started through the woods.”

  “You’re brilliant. Have I ever told you that?”

  “A guy can’t hear that enough.”

  As we walked, I could see a subtle path that we’d left. There were some broken branches. Some footprints.

  Including a few of Bigfoot’s prints.

  I pointed to one with my light. “Look at that. I wish I had a casting kit with me.”

  Riley squatted closer. “You can, at least, take some pictures.”

  “Good idea.” I used my phone to take a few snapshots. Riley knew me well enough to place a dollar bill beside the print to give perspective to its size.

  I shivered as I looked at the print. This case just couldn’t get any weirder. It wasn’t possible. And that meant a lot coming from someone who’d spent time on a deserted island full of old graves and a creepy lodge.

  After I got my photos, we continued to follow the footprints.

  Ten minutes into our trek back, I stopped. “This is where we left Chad.”

  The evidence on the ground told the story. There were signs of a scuffle. Was that because Chad had fallen and hurt himself here? Or had something else happened after we left?

  “Nate probably just helped him back,” Riley said.

  I nodded, mostly just to acknowledge his words. Because, deep inside, I had to wonder if Nate had done something to my friend. Leaving Chad had been a mistake. I should have stayed with him.

  Just then, something cracked behind us. Like a stick breaking under the weight of something large. Something human.

  I turned around, ready to pull my gun out if it came down to it.

  Instead, I saw Franz buried in the underbrush mere feet away from us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I rushed toward the college boy and knelt beside him. Just as I put my finger to his throat to search for a heartbeat, his eyes fluttered open.

  “You’re alive,” I muttered, relief flushing through me.

  He moaned and tried to push himself up. Instead, his hand went to his head and he collapsed to the ground again.

  “I’m alive?” he repeated. His eyes were dazed and confused.

  I nodded. He was alive. Against all odds. I’d thought for sure his name would be added to the list of Mythical Falls casualties.

  “I thought I was going to die.” He turned over in the underbrush and moaned.

  “What happened?” Riley asked.

  “One minute, I was going to confront Nate. I saw that everyone was together in the cabin, so I decided to wander around in the woods for a little while, until I could talk to Nate privately.”

  “What happened next?” I asked.

  “The next minute, someone tried to choke me . . . someone hairy. A noise in the woods stopped him. It sounded like people walking toward us.”

  The bad guy must have heard us coming. We’d interrupted him before he could strangle the Franz.

  “He didn’t have time to finish the job. Instead, he knocked me on the head and ran,” Franz continued, brushing some twigs from his face.

  Our little tromp through the woods may have saved Franz’s life.

  “We need to get you to safety,” I said. “Do you think you can stand?”

  He grimaced. “I’ll try.”

  Riley approached Franz from the other side, and together we were able to help him to his feet.

  “Can you walk?” Riley asked. “We need to have someone check you out.”

  “I can try.” Franz flinched as he took his first step. He’d be sore, but I thought he would be okay. “It’s mostly my throat and head that hurt. I should be fine.”

  “Did you get a look at your attacker?” I asked, keeping an arm around him. My back ached under his weight. He had to be closer to two hundred fifty pounds of mostly muscle.

  “Not really.”

  “Let me guess: He looked like Bigfoot?” I said.

  We moved carefully through the dark woods. Riley held a flashlight to illuminate our path, but every step felt like five minutes had passed.

  Franz nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  Franz shook his head. “He just grunted.”

  Grunted? Convenient. “Any idea who might have been in that costume?”

  Franz jerked his head toward Riley, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Costume? Who said anything about a costume?”

  I let out an inward sigh. “You really think it was Bigfoot?”

  I wanted to add, Really? Really? But I didn’t.

  Score one for maturity. At the moment, at least. It was an uncertain battle each time.

  “It didn’t feel like a costume,” Franz said. “I know what a costume feels like.”

  “Because you’re used to wearing one,” I quipped.

  “Exactly. I was coming here to give it all up. But before I could get to Nate, someone grabbed me.”

  One thing was for sure: Nate hadn’t grabbed him. He’d been with us when all of this had played out. But had he hired someone else to do his dirty work? I couldn’t be sure.

  Finally, we found the worn path that would lead to the parking lot. I spotted Chad leaning against the car there. His face looked strained, like his ankle was still bothering him. That wasn’t good. It was going to be hard for him to work with an injury, and I knew how important this job was to him.

  Nate rushed toward us. “Franz? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “I’m done with this,” Franz said. He pressed down on me with all of his weight until my shoulder and back throbbed. “I will go to the media about what you’ve done if you don’t let me out of my contract.”

  Nate raised his hands. “You’re done. I understand. Just give me some time before you go public. Please. I’ve staked my whole life on this.”

  The Franz pressed down on my shoulder again until I thought it might break. “I’ll think about it,” he grumbled. “I dropped the costume in the woods somewhere, and I have no intentions of searching for it or paying you for it. Sorry—not!”

  With that said, the Franz let go of his crutch—that would be me—and stomped toward his car.

  “You shouldn’t drive,” I called. “You should go to the hospital. Then call the police and file a report. Someone attacked you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he muttered. “I don’t need to involve the police in this. Then I’ll have to explain myself. And I’ll be fine without a doctor. Doctors are for wusses.”

  “But you hit your head,” I reminded him. “You could have a concussion.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You should go back to the cabins and wait this out for a little while.” Riley grabbed Franz’s arm. “I know you want to get away from us, but you have to be smart here. You don’t want to get into an accident on your way home, and these mountain roads are tricky. We don’t know the extent of your injuries yet.”

  Franz paused and seemed to actually consider Riley’s words. Finally, he nodded. “My cousin died in a car accident. My family can’t go through that again. That’s the only reason I’m agreeing.”

  Riley extended his hand. “I’ll drive.”

  Franz frowned but handed over his keys.

  “Chad, Clarice, and Gabby—I think we can all squeeze in. Why don’t we all ride around to the gate? Nate and Braxton, I can come back and get you,” Riley said.

  “I’ll walk,” Nate said. “I’ll be fine.”

 
“I can walk, too,” Braxton added. “If my calculations are correct, we’ll arrive back at the cabins before you do, and the exercise will only help my heart health.”

  Unless whoever had attacked Franz attacked him also. I kept the thought silent.

  “I’m not sure it’s a great idea for you guys to be out there,” Riley said. “Whoever did this to Franz is still in the woods.”

  “I’m telling you—it was Bigfoot.” Franz’s eyes looked unwavering and determined.

  He really believed it was Bigfoot, I realized. He wasn’t playing a game or trying to psyche me out. He was a believer.

  My heart thumped against my ribcage at the thought. Whatever was going on here most likely ran deeper than Nate trying to drum up publicity. Someone else was involved, whether it was someone paid by Nate or someone acting independently for some reason.

  “Let’s go, guys,” Riley said. “I, for one, am ready to get out of these woods and back to the cabin.”

  But I knew the truth: I wouldn’t even feel safe in the cabin. Not after everything I’d seen and heard.

  * * *

  The next morning, I felt like I hadn’t rested at all. I’d tossed and turned all night, both with compelling mental arguments that warred internally and because of fear of whoever was out in those woods.

  Riley and Chad had driven Franz back to Whitehurst College last night. Nate had volunteered to go also, but Franz didn’t want anything to do with him. Chad’s ankle was most likely sprained, but he could still drive.

  Clarice and I had been able to talk last night. She’d forgiven Nate, of course, offering excuses about how stressed he was and how he’d said he was sorry and how he was such a great guy. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that Nate couldn’t be trusted and she should run far and fast. However, I decided instead to keep my mouth shut. Advice from me, at this point, would more likely make her run directly into Nate’s arms.

  Today was my second workday, and I had to travel to a police department about two hours away. However, my training workshop didn’t start until the afternoon, so I still had a little time.

  When I came from my room, I saw Nate at his computer at the dining room table. He frowned and rubbed his chin as he stared at the screen.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well, I had someone come out on Tuesday to begin installing security cameras. It seemed like a logical next step.”

  “Funny you didn’t mention that earlier.” There were so many things he failed to mention. Over and over again.

  Nate shrugged. Usually, his beard made him look young and hip. Today, as his shoulders hunched, it made him look old. “I was afraid the cameras would pick up on Tobs or Franz doing something. I didn’t want to set myself up. But now that everything is out in the open, why keep it a secret?”

  Nate had all kinds of tricks up his sleeve, didn’t he? It didn’t help me build any trust with him.

  “Did you see something interesting?” I asked after a moment of hesitation.

  “As a matter of fact, yes, I did. I checked the footage from last night.” He rewound some images. “This was the first thing I saw.”

  I leaned in closer and saw a shadow lurking in the woods near the cabins. As the silhouette emerged, someone who clearly looked like Bigfoot stepped out. He walked toward the cabins and peered inside.

  Again, a chill frosted my insides. Had we been in the cabin when he came? What was he doing exactly?

  “Weird, right?” Nate said. “It gets weirder. Check this out, two hours later.”

  He fast-forwarded and then stopped. I looked at the time stamp: 11:43. This had happened after we’d gotten back to the cabin after the fiasco with Franz in the woods. A man appeared in the shot. Definitely not Bigfoot or even anyone pretending to be.

  No, it was a man wearing camo.

  I peered closer and squinted. The man looked vaguely familiar.

  I sat back as I realized who it was.

  It was Marion’s husband, Duke. Could he have been behind this the whole time?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Before I left for the training workshop, Riley and I set out to find the Bigfoot costume that Franz claimed to have left behind. I also wanted to see if any other clues had been left in the woods from our ordeal last night.

  I wasn’t 100 percent on board with being out in these woods again. In fact, I didn’t really care if I ever took a walk through the woods again. But, for the sake of evidence, I would make sacrifices.

  “You think we’ll find anything?” Riley asked as we hiked along.

  “I can only hope so.” I hesitated a moment as I considered sharing what I’d seen on the video about Duke. I hadn’t mentioned to Nate that I recognized the man, and Nate didn’t seem to identify him. Part of me wanted to. The other part wanted to give my friend’s husband the benefit of the doubt. I was going to go to Marion first.

  At some point this morning, I also needed to go to the police about everything that had happened. It would be an injustice to keep what I learned to myself. Nate might hate me. He might even fire me. But I was going to have to share.

  “I think it was around this area where we veered off the trail.” Riley touched a broken live-oak branch. “This seems to be a good indicator. The break looks fresh.”

  “Let’s walk this way then.” I’d brought my casting kit, just in case we found the footprints again. However, a soft rain had fallen last night, and I wasn’t hopeful. The ground was already damp because of its close proximity to the riverbed.

  “Did you hear from the insurance company yet?” Riley asked.

  I shook my head as we continued down the path. “If I did, I haven’t gotten the message. You know how that is out here in the mountains. I’ll call again when I get into town.”

  “So, if it wasn’t Nate who ran us off the road, who could it have been? Who would have had access to Nate’s cars?”

  “His garage was unlocked. It’s probably not unusual around here, right? I mean the crime rate, at least until we came to town, was pretty low.”

  “Then, who?” Riley repeated.

  I thought about his question for a minute. “How about Seamus?”

  Riley turned his head sharply toward me. “Seamus? That came out of nowhere.”

  “He’s stayed under the radar, but he knows Nate somehow. Maybe he knows him well enough to know where he keeps a spare key.”

  “Why would Seamus want to kill us?”

  “The bigger question is why would anyone want to kill two people so perfectly lovable like you and me?” I flashed him a smile.

  “I can’t argue with that. But whoever is behind this does have some kind of connection with Nate. If Nate’s not guilty, then someone else wanted desperately to make him look guilty.”

  “There are a lot of people who might have a reason not to like Nate. There are a lot of people here right now who have reason. Chad, me, and you. Not that any of us are guilty.”

  “I keep feeling like instead of the net getting smaller, it’s getting bigger.”

  “I have to agree.” Riley paused and squatted near the ground. “I think this is where Chad fell. Franz was found not far from here.”

  “Let me look at that area first.” I walked several feet until I found a spot where the underbrush had been trampled. This was definitely the area. In fact, there was even some blood on a rock. Franz had a small scrape on his forehead. Maybe the blood was from that.

  I took a photo of it and even considered collecting a sample, but then I’d essentially be compromising a crime scene. I fully intended on sending the police out here as soon as I got cell reception.

  “Let’s see. Assuming Franz was on the trail when this supposed Bigfoot grabbed him, he somehow ended up a good twenty feet off the path and over here. There’s probably a more direct path than the one we took. Let’s head back toward the trail, but go this route instead.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me,” Riley said.

  We pushed through the underbrush unti
l finally I hit the jackpot: thrown underneath a swath of bushes was the costume we’d been looking for. I leaned down and studied it. It looked like it had been dropped in a scuffle. The arms and legs were strung out with patches of dirt and leaves atop it.

  “Sure enough. Here it is, just like Franz said,” I mumbled. “I’m not risking losing this evidence. I’m putting it into a bag and taking it back with us.”

  I picked up the mask, as well as the body of the outfit. As I did, I noticed a Bigfoot shoe, for lack of a better word, remained on the ground, separate from the rest of the costume.

  I tilted my head. Interesting.

  “Does it belong to the other costume?” Riley asked. “Maybe it got ripped off or something.”

  With Riley’s help, I held up the Bigfoot suit. The deluxe getup was heavy and hard to manipulate. I couldn’t even imagine trying to run with this covering my limbs.

  Once I reached the bottom of the legs, I paused. Both feet looked intact.

  That meant . . . “The person who attacked Franz somehow lost part of the foot of his costume when he struggled with Franz.”

  I used gloves to pick the gnarled, ape-like foot up, and I placed it in a separate bag. I would be taking all of this to the police.

  And after that, I’d pay a visit to Marion.

  * * *

  I leaned back in the chair as I talked to the Whitehurst police chief, Rusty Abel. He’d been a friendly man—probably in his mid-fifties—who was slightly overweight and carried his weight in his belly area. Thick blond hair and red cheeks adorned his square face.

  He had a neat, plain office that smelled like cinnamon and afforded a nice view of Main Street. Pictures of him with various town dignitaries graced the walls, along with certificates from his police academy training and a community college degree. All in all, it was pretty typical.

  He straightened some folders on his desk. “As soon as I know anything more about the accident, I’ll be sure to let you know. I know you’re anxious to get everything worked out with your insurance company, and I imagine it’s unsettling not knowing who would do this.”