Nobody Loves a Bigfoot Like a Bigfoot Babe

by Simon Okill

  Lou nodded in agreement and wondered what kind of animal had been spraying around the base of the Douglas fir. She frowned as the smell seemed not too dissimilar to the serial bather case.

  Chad glanced warily at the surrounding trees and thickets. He heard a rustling and shivered.

  "Maybe it was a grizzly?"

  "Maybe," Lou said with a troubled look on her face.

  Chad pointed out, "But if a grizzly got him, where's Beau's body parts . . . and I don't see blood all over the place." He glanced around with a mix of horror and glee on his face. "Maybe the grizzly's buried him and plans to eat him later?" The teenager looked wide-eyed at Lou. "They do that, you know." Chad searched the area with a keen eye. "But there should be some blood, don't you think, Sheriff?" He grimaced, delighting in the gruesome scenario. "Yeah, lots of blood all over the place."

  Yeah, there surely would have been some sign of Beau being taken by a grizzly, thought Lou. She gave Chad a disparaging look for reveling in what might have happened to his friend. It wasn't a joking matter, anymore. She surely had to take Beau's disappearance seriously now. But something didn't quite sit right with her. She felt it in her gut. Something was off-center about the whole thing.

  She gave Chad a questioning look. A part of her was hoping Beau and his friends had concocted this little charade to catch her and her deputies for the third time. The alternative that Beau had actually been taken by a grizzly or even by some nut job was a very disturbing thought indeed. Her stomach started to churn over. Of course, Beau could simply have run away.

  "If this is some kind of prank, it's time to call it quits, right now," Lou demanded in a stern voice. She softened her tone. "You and the others won't get into trouble . . . I'll let you off with a warning, is all."

  Chad shook his head vehemently. "It's not a prank, Sheriff, honest to God. Someone or something really has taken Beau this time."

  Well, thought Lou, if Chad was messing with her, he was putting on a good act. He seemed genuine by the look on his face. Her head began to throb again. She felt a little queasy at the prospect of finding a mauled, possibly half-eaten Beau in a bear dig. She instinctively put her hand to her sensitive stomach in an attempt to quell her urge to puke. She sniffed. The musky animal spray didn't help matters.

  She sighed and shook her head. She knew when she first took this job that there would be a distinct possibility of gruesome scenes where hunters had shot each other by mistake or got mauled by a bear, but thankfully, up until now she'd had it easy. Nothing much ever happened in Big Beaver, and that was fine with Sheriff Lou.

  Sure, her town had its fair share of trouble, especially Saturday nights when the locals would get rowdy with tourists. But a few knocks and bruises was all that amounted to. And there was the occasional breaking and entry, car thefts by drunken teenagers, family squabbles that ended in makeup tears, juvenile trouble and last, but not least, the practical jokers-but no major crimes. Lou was kinda proud of that.

  Her town was a nice amiable place to live in or to just take a vacation in. Some people in town still kept their doors unlocked at night. Her town was a good place to raise kids. It was a place where tourists came by the bus load to do some sightseeing, get a glimpse of Bigfoot, or do some hunting and fishing.

  Sheriff Lou heard the approach of a vehicle's engine not far away. It was the sound of a four-wheel jeep. Who could it be? It sounded like MB's Cherokee. Could be wrong though, thought Lou. If so, the last thing she needed was someone coming to Little Beaver for a nice picnic only to find Beau's dismembered body. What would that say about her town?

  She knew she'd better go and see who'd arrived. If it was just someone out for a picnic she didn't want them trampling about the place, messing up the crime scene, if there was a crime scene. She heard the vehicle's engine stop and a door slam shut.

  "You think maybe some axe-wielding nut's got him?" Chad asked excitedly. "Maybe we'll find Beau's head stuck on a branch . . . that would be awesome."

  Lou didn't reply. She gave Chad a quick, disparaging look then turned to leave and headed for the clearing.

  Chad looked around at the vast forest with a hint of fear. He quickly followed after the sheriff.

  7

  AS DUANE SIPPED HIS COFFEE at Annie's Diner, it suddenly dawned on him in a rare moment of clarity what he had forgotten he had to do in town that day. That's it—he had to go to the salon for a trim. He finished off his coffee as quickly as possible before he forgot the trim. He rushed up to the counter and slipped a ten dollar bill between Annie's enormous breasts.

  Annie waved Duane goodbye as he exited the diner.

  He sauntered off down the main street to his left as if he had all the time in the world, passing Bert's Sporting Goods, Gerry's Hardware Store, The Busy Beaverite office and Sally's Sew What Shop.

  Duane came to a stop outside Colette's Head Job. For some unknown reason, he looked back the way he came at the sheriff's department next to Annie's Diner.

  He noticed that Lou's patrol car was missing from its allocated spot. What could she be up to? He scratched his butt as he thought. Nothing came to mind.

  Duane peered through the window of the salon. He could make out Colette, the glamorous salon owner, and her spiky, purple-haired young female assistant tending to two early forty-something women undergoing various stages of hair treatment.

  The women being tended to were very familiar to Duane and he knew each one of them enjoyed a good gossip. He shrugged his shoulders and thought—so what if it'll give them something to gossip about. So he entered Colette's establishment.

  Colette was a friend of Duane's; a really close friend of his, though not as regularly close a friend as Annie or her sister. But close enough for Duane to call on Colette from time to time for some extra-extra booty call.

  But, unlike the Bumsen Sisters, Colette wasn't looking for a husband and definitely no kids. She was already married and had three teenage kids, but her husband, Pete, and she had what was known as an understanding.

  Pete was a roadie for a female heavy metal band-The Crap Suzettes. It was reliably rumored around town that he had a second wife somewhere. It was also rumored Pete had a third wife somewhere else and possibly married to the entire band. It was also rumored that Pete was a bit of a womanizer. But they were only rumors.

  Duane was immediately struck by the heavy odor of perfume and hair sprays sucking the air out of his lungs. He coughed.

  All attention focused on him.

  "Hello, ladies."

  Everyone greeted him with a friendly hello and a sweet smile as Duane was a likable character and most women took to him in one way or another. They either lusted after him, or they simply liked him as a friend. All in all, Duane had a strong effect on women, but as yet, he couldn't understand why. And he had no inclination to find out, either.

  Duane focused his stinging eyes on Colette. "It's time for my trim."

  Colette covertly looked at her client before nodding her head and pointing with scissors towards the hallway door.

  "Be just a minute," she told her customer. "What trim . . . oh, right . . . that trim . . . out back in the storeroom." She sauntered off from the salon.

  Duane smiled a little sheepishly at the clients as his foggy brain cleared enough to remind him just how stupid he really was. Not a trim, you dumbass-he was there for some trim—Colette's pertly shaved trim to be precise. He nodded his head and walked casually with his hands in his jean pockets and followed Colette from the salon.

  THE ASSISTANT AND THE TWO gossipy women watched Duane and Colette disappear into the hallway. Chatter went into overdrive.

  "What kind of trim does he need?"

  "The only trim Duane gets is south of the border."

  "What . . . you mean Colette and Duane?"

  "Why not Colette and Duane?"

  "He's doing me . . . that's why."

  "And me."

  "You? No fucking way."

  "Why not me . . . I'm just as much
a looker as you?"

  "For fuck's sake . . . he's doing everyone in town who wants it."

  "Really . . . even Sheriff Lou?"

  "She ain't that desperate."

  "Well, you were."

  "So were you, bitch."

  Squabbles ensue.

  THE STOREROOM SHELVES WERE STACKED with various hair products and hair styling devices. Duane was pushed against the shelves.

  Colette pounced on him like a sex-starved sex kitten, "Give it to me real hard, my Bigfoot boy." She backed off, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "You stink!"

  "So I've been told."

  "What the hell." Colette pounced on Duane for the second time. She grabbed his goods and squeezed a little too hard for Duane's liking.

  Duane was caught completely off guard and flinched in pain. "Sorry Colette, but I'm just not in the mood anymore."

  "Since when?"

  "Since last night with Annie and Heidi."

  "Damn . . . those two are a menace."

  "Don't I know it . . . still a tad tender down there."

  Colette regained her composure. She bent down and picked up several boxes of hair colorant scattered all over the place. She started to restack them. She frowned.

  "Hey . . . what the hell did you want with all that hair colorant I gave you last month?"

  Duane looked at her with a twinkle in his blue eyes and grinned. He touched the tip of his nose and winked.

  "No questions, we agreed." He gave another grin.

  She gave Duane a keen look. "You're up to something weird with all that blond hair dye, I just know it." She grinned. "You've gotta prank on the go, haven't you?"

  Well, to be exact, thought Duane, he wasn't up to anything mischievous, not really. He had merely done something special for some friends of his.

  Colette finished stacking the boxes. "Pete's away all week, so don't be a stranger."

  As Duane thought for a moment as to when he could drop in on Colette for some sex, his butt itched for a good scratch from his thinking finger. When could he fit her in-the Bumsen Sisters were selfishly taking up all of his time; okay he was spoiling them a tad too much, but he hated the thought of having to say no to them. But they were getting greedy for his man juice. So when could he fit Colette in?

  "I'll see when I can fit you in," he offered.

  Colette suggestively moistened her lips with her tongue and kissed him full on. "There's more of that, so make it soon, my Bigfoot boy."

  Will do, thought Duane with a naughty glint in his eye.

  ONCE OUTSIDE COLETTE'S hair salon, Duane walked back up the main street to his Harley motorcycle parked outside Annie's Diner. He glanced next door at the sheriff's department and saw that the sheriff's patrol car was still absent from its parking spot. Shame about that, he would have liked to have called in on Lou on the pretext of saying hello, when in fact his real motive would have been to find out if she'd had the DNA results back from the lab in Sacramento on the Phantom Bigfoot Bather Case.

  For, if there was one thing Duane really liked to do, it was to gloat upon his mischievous deeds and the effect they had on others. It was just harmless fun in his eyes. To others, namely the sheriff's department, it was a downright nuisance.

  Duane knew that most people in town didn't mind the thought that someone was entering their homes and making use of their bathroom facilities. And though the sheriff's department was taking the case of the Phantom Bigfoot Bather serious enough, not even they were too eager to catch the perp red-handed, so to speak.

  Duane grinned to himself and gave a nod. It was for the best that she wasn't in. Best get home. He kicked his bike into action with a roar. He slipped his Bigfoot helmet on and kicked into first gear. As if on cue, the music emanating from his speaker system was Born To Be Wild by Steppenwolf.

  8

  MB PULLED HIS GEAR OUT of the back of the Cherokee jeep. He glanced over his shoulder at Sheriff Lou and Chad as they approached.

  "Hey, Sheriff," MB called out.

  "How long were you listening back at the sign?" Lou looked irritated. She faltered and glared at him.

  MB grinned disarmingly. "Yeah, well, you know how it is." He winked and tapped his directional microphone. "I saw and heard the whole thing."

  Lou gave him an annoyed look. "You were hiding there all that time?"

  MB apologetically shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah I was . . . so what?"

  MB smiled in the hope that his geniality would assuage Lou. It sometimes did. Sometimes it didn't. Depended on what sort of mood she was in. He had a hunch the sheriff was in no mood to be messed around. She seemed cranky and looked hungover from Abe's last night. "Sorry, I know I should have made my presence known. But…"

  Lou shook her head in despair. "I could confiscate that device."

  MB laughed. "Old Indian legend tells us that man who doesn't listen in on other people's conversations, will never find out what bad things are being said about him."

  Lou didn't reply, she just put her hands on her hips and looked un-amused at MB's smiling face.

  Yeah, Lou sure wasn't in a good mood, thought MB. He figured he'd better put on a serious face.

  "You'd better show me the spot where Beau went to take a piss then."

  Lou and Chad trudged back to the infamous leaky tree with MB in tow.

  MB knelt down and sniffed the ground around the offending tree. Offending was the right word—real stinky, he thought—not unlike that found at each crime scene left by the Phantom Bigfoot. He ran his fingertips over the dry earth and then put his fingers up against his nostrils and took a good sniff. It was a familiar smell.

  "Smells like grizzly piss mixed with human piss, and . . ." MB sniffed and grimaced with a cough. ". . . Definitely some skunk in there, too."

  Lou and Chad stood back and watched expectantly as the amiable crypto-zoologist picked up a broken branch, inspected it, sniffed it then tossed it away. It was just a broken branch.

  MB noted the dry ground around the base of the tree was strewn with loose undergrowth that had been trampled down by several different feet, including Lou's. He closely scrutinized the shoe prints.

  MB pointed out animal tracks, "Mostly white-tailed deer, badger, fox and bobcat, nothing that would be harmful to a human. There's no sign of a grizzly print, but that doesn't mean a grizzly hadn't taken Beau . . . but. . ."

  MB inspected the trunk of the leaky tree. There were no telltale signs of clawing that always accompanied a bear attack.

  He pointed to the bark, ". . . See? . . . no claw marks. Bears always like to scratch up a tree when they piss on it." MB pointed to the ground, "I suppose these prints around the tree belong to you and the other kids as well as Beau's?"

  Chad opened his mouth to reply, but Lou answered before he could.

  "I've already ascertained those prints belong to Chad and his friends."

  Chad beamed proudly, "It's true, dude . . . those are our prints."

  Lou heaved a weary sigh and pointed to a set of particular prints. "Those must belong to Beau, see where they are deeper. That's where he stood to take a pee." She pointed to the damp bark of the tree and looked at Chad. "No-brainer here doesn't have a clue what took Beau this time."

  Chad looked indignant, "Who's calling who a no-brainer?"

  Sheriff Lou glared at Chad, "I am, dufus."

  Chad agreed with a resigned nod, "Well, that's okay, I guess."

  MB sniffed the bark of the tree. He nodded his head and wrinkled his nose.

  "That's one really bad mother of a smell!"

  "Could that be grizzly sign?" Lou asked, gagging on the stink.

  "No way, dude . . . I'm betting it's Bigfoot got him," Chad butted in over-excitedly.

  MB shrugged to Chad. Well, that was the million dollar question. No, make that a two million dollar question. Had a grizzly taken Beau? The signs said otherwise. But what if a Bigfoot had taken Beau? The notion was too fanciful to think seriously about, but the thought that Bigfoot had indeed taken
Beau struck a chord in MB's delirious mind, for it amused MB to once more think upon such a notion as the existence of the elusive Bigfoot.

  Thump! Back on planet earth, MB could find no sign of Bigfoot prints, real or fake, no Bigfoot hair, or any other sign to indicate that the non-existent creature had been here. MB sighed inwardly with the thought that, yet again, he had failed to find conclusive evidence that Bigfoot existed.

  Without evidence to support what had happened to Beau, who or what had taken him was anybody's guess. If indeed anything untoward had happened to Beau. He was more than likely just fooling around, thought MB. The lack of evidence certainly confirmed that hypothesis.

  "Doubtful it was a grizzly," MB mused. "I don't see anything to support that scenario here. There's no sign of a struggle. See? No blood. No torn clothing. Sure, there are several different sets of human footprints and some animal prints, but nothing to indicate anything bad happened here."

  Lou peered down at the ground and looked thoughtful. "My gut tells me Beau's just fooling around, as usual."

  "Can I quote you on that?" MB said.

  "No way, man . . . something took him. If it's Bigfoot . . . I wonder what it's doing with him," Chad said, eyes wide with excitement. "Hey, dude . . . do Bigfoot eat people, like in that movie, Abominable?" Chad chuckled, "That was so awesome!"

  Lou asked, "You're the expert, make a guess?"

  MB sighed heavily, "What . . . whether Bigfoot eat people or not?" He saw the look on Lou's face. She was beginning to lose it. What the fuck. "Old Indian legend tells us that man who makes a guess sometimes guesses wrong."

  Chad chuckled at MB's remark.

  "Yeah, I guess you're right," Lou agreed with a sigh.

  "Hey . . . I just had a thought . . ." Chad exclaimed.

  "Don't tax your brain, Chad," Lou teased.

  "You don't think Duane-o's got anything to do with this?" Chad looked really pleased. "Well, you know . . . he likes to go about dressed up as Bigfoot."