by Bonnie Gill
No, he didn’t know. “You would be surprised how a person’s will to live can help them survive.” He wanted to shake the woman. Who gives up hope on a loved one?
“I sure hope so, Sheriff.” She turned to the gathered crowd. “Who would like another glass of tea before the search?” She smiled and clapped her hands once in front of her as if her husband had been forgotten.
L.A.M.P.S. had dropped him into a town of certified crazies. Mrs. Livingston switched emotions like traffic lights changed from red to green, then there were the two women on the ranch with the blow up dolls. Maybe something’s in the water? He’d purchase a water filter.
A familiar rattle interrupted his thoughts. Abby and Pepper strolled up to the huddle of people and greeted Mrs. Livingston.
River whistled using his fingers in his mouth. “Okay everyone, thanks for coming out. I’ll select groups of two and give you an area to check. We’ll meet back here before dusk. If you find Mr. Livingston and if he’s hurt, dial 9-1-1 first, then call me. No one is to wander off alone. Got it? Stay together.” He made sure his voice carried over the murmurs of the crowd.
He paired people together and assigned them a different location on the topographical map. He handed out his business cards. He walked over to Abby. “You’re with me and Pepper, why don’t you pair up with Thomas.” River pointed to a guy standing off to the side.
Pepper’s forehead creased, her palms facing up. “You’re kidding, right? He’s wearing loafers and no socks. How is he supposed to traipse through the forest without the proper shoes?”
Thomas could have worn flip-flops and Madonna boob cones for all he cared, they needed to start the search for Mr. Livingston. Pronto. “Here’s your location.” He pointed to an area on the map.
River smiled at Abby. “We’re going the farthest, so you get to ride in the all-terrain vehicle.” He pointed at the green ATV parked next to the house.
“Sounds good.”
He watched as she headed toward the vehicle, her narrow hips had a slight sway accompanied by a rattle every right step. At least he’d get to spend some alone time with her. Maybe she’d let something slip about why they were acting so peculiar earlier today.
He joined Abby as she sat in the passenger seat of the ATV. She pulled out her lip balm and ran it over her lips. Her right pants pocket had a square outline of a tic-tac box, and her left pocket revealed the outlines of not one, but what appeared to be two ChapSticks.
Did she always carry those? At least she’d never be able to sneak up on him.
River peered at Abby but she turned her head away revealing pale skin and a long, thin neck exhibiting that ever-so-sexy spot where it dipped down by her collarbone. When the image of gliding his lips over that soft skin on her shoulder and trailing down to her small tight breasts appeared in his mind, his mouth parted. Did they taste like cherries?
“How fast does this thing go?” She straightened her back and her fingers curled around the bottom of the seat.
He looked up from her chest.
Abby pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes at him. “Did I spill something on my shirt?”
Busted.
He shook his head. “Buckle up.”
Click. As soon as he heard her seat belt latch, he put the vehicle in gear and pressed the accelerator.
“Where are we headed?” She shouted over the hum of the engine.
“The waterfall at the end of the river.” He looked over to Abby. “Have you ever been there before?”
“No.” She picked at her thumbnail with her finger.
“I heard it was beautiful.” He cleared his throat. “Did you know Mr. Livingston?”
Abby shook her head and kept watch for the missing man.
After a while, River slowed the vehicle to a crawl while he concentrated on the landscape and the underbrush to search for tracks. The thick brush indicated that this area hadn’t been traveled in a long time. The small saplings and brittle leaves popped and snapped as they foraged their way deeper into the forest.
Every once in a while he would stop the vehicle and take a stroll around the area to see if there were any foot prints or broken twigs, any evidence that would indicate Mr. Livingston had gone through there, but he didn’t see anything of the sort.
The birds chirped happy tweets and every so often deer darted in the distance. The clean crisp piney air filled his lungs. River loved the hunt. It’s what he craved. He enjoyed the wilderness and the wildness, but he only killed things that went bump in the night. The mystical creatures that invaded the campfire stories children and adults told in the dark. The thing was, they existed. Creatures lurked out there at night that would scare the bejesus out of a grown man. Creatures that could tear a man’s arm from his body and eat it for an afternoon munch-fest. His job was to capture or terminate the dangerous ones and catalogue the friendly ones.
He glanced over at Abby. She smeared lip balm over her mouth several times then slid her lips back-and-forth against each other. What was up with her? She tapped her small hiking boot on the floorboard. They were the cutest and sexiest little feet he had ever seen. He had never been a foot person, but God, he wanted to unlace those red laces to see her tiny toes naked. He tore his attention away and looked up to the falls as they approached.
The waterfall cascaded over twenty feet, and crashed into the stream below. Ferns and wildflowers surrounded the blue green pool. The tumble of the water brought a serene feeling to the fairy tale setting. His shoulders relaxed to the sound.
“Oh my gosh. This is beautiful.” Her eyes grew wider, mirroring her smile.
River nodded, and took a moment to let the natural beauty of the place sink in, but then his trained eyes spotted the tracks leading away from the falls. Child-size shoe prints about three inches in length followed along the river and disappeared into the forest. He walked around the area and checked under the bushes. The tracks vanished there. He needed to photograph and document these because he doubted a child would be alone in the woods. Nope, something more dubious was obviously at work here.
River turned his attention to Abby. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” Abby picked a dog hair off her orange tank top.
“Earlier, you seemed nervous.”
Her brown eyes flickered up to him, and then away. “Yeah, well . . . I had a bad morning.”
“You know you can confide in me, right? If you need to talk about anything.” He lifted her chin with the side of his finger.
She let out an I-doubt-that laugh and shook her head slowly. “I’m fine.” Then she plastered on a fake smile, one that didn’t hit her eyes but showed her teeth.
“If you’re in any kind of trouble . . .” His phone rang, interrupting him.
“Sheriff Stone,” he answered.
A guy from one of the other search parties fired his words at a frantic rate. “Sheriff, we found Mr. Livingston. He’s okay. A little delusional, but alive.”
“He might be dehydrated. What did he say?”
“He said a Gnome and the Jersey Devil attacked his dog.”
“I see.” River glanced over at Abby who sat on a boulder throwing pebbles into the water.
“I told you he wasn’t making sense.”
“Get him to the hospital and I’ll meet him there.”
“I already called the ambulance. Thanks, Sheriff.”
Relieved, River pressed the end button terminating his call and faced Abby. “They found Mr. Livingston. We need to leave.”
“Is he okay?” She asked, her expression hopeful.
“He seems to be okay, but they’re taking him to the hospital to be sure.”
A genuine smile spread across her face showcasing the cute dimples in her cheeks. “That’s a relief. I mean, I’m glad they found
him.”
“That makes two of us. Come on let’s go back.” He motioned to the vehicle.
River drove the ATV back to the Livingston’s home. Abby sat perfectly quiet next to him. He needed to get to the hospital immediately so he could talk to Mr. Livingston. If the old codger did see the Jersey Devil and a Gnome, he had a busy week ahead of him.
Abby hopped out of the vehicle when they arrived at the Livingston house. “See you later.” She disappeared without looking back at him.
“Bye, Abby,” he called after her.
River jumped in the squad car and drove to the hospital in record time. He broke the speed limit a few times, but he didn’t care. His position as Sheriff offered some perks after all.
Once there he rushed up to Mr. Livingston’s room.
Mr. Livingston sat propped up sleeping in his hospital bed. A doctor hovered beside him typing on a computer tablet.
He nodded to the doctor. “How’s he doing?” River shut the door behind him.
“I ran a few tests on him. He’s dehydrated, but otherwise doing good.” The doctor closed the cover on the tablet and walked out the door.
Mr. Livingston’s eyes opened. “Sheriff, there’s monsters in the forest.”
River leaned in closer and pulled out a note pad. “What happened out there?”
“I was hunting with my dog and this Gnome attacked him. A hideous little creature, you know like on those travel commercials. Then this huge beast, the Jersey Devil, swooped down and started fighting with it. I think they were fighting over Champ. I think they were trying to eat my dog.” Mr. Livingston struggled to sit up. “You have to believe me.”
“Can you describe the creatures?”
“Well, the Gnome was about three-and-a- half foot tall, blue overalls, and white hair with a beard. He had one large hooked claw on his thumb.” He scratched his head. “The Jersey Devil had a body and the head of a horse with these huge skin wings, like a bat. Its hands were like bird feet, and it walked on hooves. Everyone is going to think I’m crazy, but I swear to you, that’s what I saw.”
River had no doubt Mr. Livingston saw the creatures, but two Cryptids sharing the same forest was almost unheard of. He needed to find out more about the Gnome.
“Can you tell me anything else?”
“I shot at them and hid under the rocks until the searchers found me.” He reached over and picked up his glass of water. Livingston’s hand shook so hard the water sloshed out of the glass onto his chest.
River picked up a towel nearby and dabbed the liquid on Mr. Livingston’s chest. “Thank you. I’ll check it out. In the meantime, you need to get some rest.” He closed his note pad.
“Sheriff, you have to believe me.” Mr. Livingston grabbed his hand and squeezed.
River grimaced, nodding. He did believe him, but needed to keep this quiet even if it meant making the town think Mr. Livingston was crazy.
River sat in his office. He thumbed through his Cryptozoology book and re-read the chapter on the Jersey Devil. The myth stated that about two hundred years ago, Mrs. Leeds, a woman who lived in these woods, was pregnant for the thirteenth time. Distraught, she called out “Oh please, let this be the Devil.” She gave birth to a hideous creature that promptly flew out the window. Over time, the book stated that people had reported sightings, farmers claimed the creature ate their livestock, but River found no reports of human casualties.
Sometimes people made up stories to explain the Cryptids, especially in the olden days. Folklore and myths were filled with that sort of thing. He continued reading.
Information on the Gnome was harder to find. What he found made the pulse in his temple drum.
Contrary to common knowledge, Gnomes are not cute statues dressed in overalls with pointed hats that watch over home gardens. They were man-eaters equipped with a large hooked Velociraptor type claw. Gnomes used the claw to pierce their prey’s skull so they could stick their hollow tongue in the head to suck out brain matter.
River looked up. They use their tongue like a straw? Nasty buggers. According to the text, no Gnome sightings had been recorded in over a hundred years. Gnomes originated from Europe, where they hunted for treasure to hoard in caves.
He rubbed the knot forming in the back of his neck. He’d have to call his boss at L.A.M.P.S. This didn’t make any sense, but if anyone could sort this out it was Ottar.
While dialing his boss’s phone number, he popped two aspirins in his mouth.
“Ottar here.” A gruff Australian voice growled back at him. River pictured him out in a field hiding behind tall grass with camouflage paint on his face, binoculars raised, hunting Cryptids. Ottar was the only other man he’d met who loved the hunt even more than he did.
“It’s River. I may have a situation here.” He looked back at the Gnome picture in his book.
“What’s going on?”
“I have two different Cryptids occupying the same forest.”
“Impossible. What are they?” Anticipation filled Ottar’s tone.
“One is the Jersey Devil and the other may be a Gnome.”
“I’ll be there in a few days,” the big Aussie said and hung up.
River didn’t need the captain to help him, but with a Gnome and the Jersey Devil on the loose his assistance couldn’t hurt. If old man Livingston had seen a Gnome the people in this town were in danger. He searched the map for the area where Mr. Livingston was found. It was less than a half of mile from Pepper’s property.
Abby was in danger.
Chapter 5
Pepper swung the door open and walked into her pet store at around two in the afternoon. “Oh boy.”
Abby placed a can of dog food on the shelf. “What now?”
“It’s all over town that the Jersey Devil and a Gnome attacked Mr. Livingston’s dog.”
Abby’s stomach soured. “I attacked a dog?” How could she do that?
“No, that’s not how I took it. He said that a Gnome attacked his dog and then the Devil swooped down and struck the Gnome. It sounds like you saved the dog.”
Her legs and body stiffened, her hand clasped a can of dog food so tight her fingers turned white. “But you can’t be sure.”
“Of course I’m sure.”
She suddenly worried about Pepper’s dogs. If she couldn’t figure how to lift the curse before the next time she changed, she would leave Pepper’s farm. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she hurt one of Pepper’s animals. “What’s this about a Gnome?”
“Who knows? It’s Mr. Livingston. The old man is goofy.”
Pepper carried a box over by her and laid it on the floor. “I saw the sheriff at the post office today.”
“How did I end up going with him yesterday? Did you know he kept looking at me?” Abby spun the cans so the labels faced outward on the shelves. Her head ached from lack of sleep for the second night in a row. After the search, she and Pepper stayed up for a John Cusack eighties movie marathon. She loved those Savage Steve Holland movies.
“What do you mean looking at you?”
“I don’t know, like he was trying to guess my bra size, or see if I was wearing granny panties, or a G-string, or going commando.” She was kind of flattered even though she had no interest in his broad shoulders and tight rear end. Who was looking though?
Pepper handed her another can. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked you out.”
“If he does I’m not going.” The last thing she wanted right now was to date after the ordeal with Burt. It was for the best.
“Come on, maybe that’s just what you need.”
“What I need is to remove the curse.” But she had no idea how.
“How about wishing the curse away?”
“The genie said he didn’t grant wishes.
” The jerk should be banned from geniehood.
“Let’s give it a try. What have you got to lose? But you have to truly believe it to work.” The sound of Pepper’s words almost held a scolding, like she would kick Abby’s butt if she didn’t put her whole being into the wish.
She squeezed her eyes closed. “Okay. I wish my curse to be removed.” Nothing happened. Did it work?
“Did you feel anything?” Pepper cocked her head and stared at her.
“Nope. But I didn’t feel anything when he placed the curse on me either.”
Pepper tapped her lip with her pointer finger as if deep in thought. “How about wishing for something you can see? You should have three wishes, right?”
“I wish my toenails were painted pink.” Abby pulled off her gym shoes and purple penguin socks. Her toenails were still the light shade of lilac that she had painted them a couple days ago. “Rats. It didn’t work.”
“You said he mentioned your grandmother.”
“Yeah, well you know she died a long time ago.” The loud sigh she expelled didn’t release the gigantic knot twisting in her solar plexus or the one growing in the back of her neck.
“So that’s a dead end. How about your mom?”
“She’s in Africa saving orphaned elephants. I haven’t been able to get a hold of her in over a month. No cell towers. I’ve left her about a hundred messages.” She could leave a hundred more, but she doubted her mom could help her with the curse. She never believed Abby’s grandmother.
“Bummer. Back to River.” The dreamy romantic smile on Pepper’s face indicated she would not drop the subject.
Abby waved her hand as if she was swatting a fly in front of her face. “I don’t even want to think about him.” She had much more important things to worry about.