“There’s no way the permit will pass. No way.”
Witherford nodded at Brynlee. “Have a good day.”
After the man walked away, Brynlee leaned toward him. “That man seems intense.”
“He is. I think he’s even more protective of the mountain than I am.”
“Why is that?”
“I have no idea. His family has a long history in the area, and he wants to preserve it. People around here, we like green space.”
“Would a resort on Dead Man’s Bluff really be that bad of an idea?”
“It would be a terrible idea. That mountain shouldn’t be developed.” Boone finished his sandwich, tired of talking about the permit.
As he looked up, he spotted Lonny. The man seemed nice enough, though a touch peculiar. But he remembered the cut on the man’s arm.
How had he gotten that? And why did he want to conceal it? Was it because he was somehow involved in all this?
The man was a bear expert.
Then again, what would his motive possibly be? Boone couldn’t think of one possible reason why a man like Lonny might be behind these recent attacks.
Maybe he was just looking for a scapegoat. He didn’t know.
He balled up his trash and sighed. “Look, I think we should get busy. We need to go over some hiking stuff. Then we need to pack for the hike tomorrow. Right now, the weather is looking good. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Just as they stood, screams sounded in the distance.
Boone’s muscles tightened as he anticipated what might be happening. His gut told him it wasn’t good.
He looked toward the town square. The crowds ran away from something, panic capturing their features, their motions, their screams.
What in the world was going on?
He sucked in a deep breath as onlookers scattered. There, in the void the crowds had left, stood. . . a Skookum.
27
Brynlee froze, unable to move or tear her gaze away from the scene unfolding. Everyone looked terrified—an emotion she understood well.
As she saw the furry creature who’d stirred the fear, her stomach flip-flopped. He looked crazy. Rabid. Out of control as he flailed his arms in the air and another growl emerged from him.
Boone reached for her arm and pushed Brynlee behind him. His muscles bristled as he stood on guard, clearly ready to protect her.
The realization filled her heart with a strange comfort. She’d never known what it was like to have someone look out for her. But Brynlee reminded herself again that he was only doing this because she was paying him. No other reason.
Her gaze remained focused on the creature in the distance. He lifted his hands again, his sharp claws glistening in the sunlight. His body was crouched, like he was just looking for someone to pounce on.
More people screamed and ran away in a panic.
Then the creature stopped.
Paused.
Look around.
His body bent forward.
Bent forward?
Brynlee held her breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
The next instant, the creature put his hands on his neck . . . and pulled off a mask.
A mask?
Wait . . . that was a man in a costume?
Her shoulders slumped.
A teenager’s laughing face appeared.
This had been a joke. Irritation pounded inside her.
In front of her, Boone’s shoulders tightened. She could feel the testiness rising off him as he glared at the teen in the distance.
“Stay here,” he barked.
He charged through the crowd and took the teenager by the arm. His other hand was on his phone, which was already at his ear.
No doubt he was calling Luke.
That teenager had probably done this as a joke. But someone could have gotten hurt or the teen could have even been shot. It was in poor taste considering everything that had happened in town.
Brynlee dropped back onto the bench, her vegetable wrap nearly forgotten now. The crowds seemed to hesitantly return to their activities. The band began playing again, but this time a ballad that seemed to reflect the change of mood at this First Friday event.
Boone paused in front of Brynlee. He still gripped the agitated teenager. The boy tried to pull out of his grasp and muttered under his breath that people couldn’t take a joke.
Boone scowled and ignored him. “I need to take him down to the sheriff’s office.”
“If it’s okay, I’ll wait here,” Brynlee said. “I need to return a couple phone calls.”
His eyes narrowed, like he was unsure. “Are you positive?”
“Yeah, I’m positive. I’m in public. I should be okay.”
Finally, he nodded, though he still looked hesitant. “I should be only a few minutes.”
As soon as he was out of earshot, Brynlee called the surveyor she’d hired to access the property. She’d been waiting for a moment alone to check in with Stephen Royce.
He wasn’t supposed to actually have to hike the mountainside. She’d warned him about what had happened. She just needed him to use his drone to get a better idea of the property around Dead Man’s Bluff.
He didn’t answer.
She frowned. Didn’t answer? Stephen was okay, right?
Maybe his cell phone was just out of range. Surely, he’d call her as soon as he finished.
But a bad feeling remained in Brynlee’s stomach. Maybe Boone was right and that mountain was nothing but trouble.
* * *
Nearly as soon as they drove into Boone’s driveway, Brynlee’s phone rang.
She hoped it was Stephen.
Instead she saw Mason’s number. Mason, her half-brother. Why in the world would he be calling her?
She excused herself, climbed from the truck, and stepped away from Boone. “Hello, Mason.”
“Hello, Brynlee,” he said.
“Why are you calling?” There was no need to beat around the bush. He’d never called her before just for friendly conversation, so he obviously had a reason now.
“How are things in Fog Lake?”
“How did you know I was in Fog Lake?” Brynlee’s suspicions rose. She hadn’t told him she was coming here.
“I’m on the board for my father’s company. I know what’s going on. I know what his last wishes were.”
“Then I guess you know how things are going here also, don’t you?”
He let out a sigh. “Look, I’m not sure you realize how much opposition Dad received last time he tried this.”
“I’m aware. He told me.”
“I think it’s a bad plan to be there right now.”
Brynlee glanced at Boone and saw that he was busy setting up the climbing equipment. “I’ll be the judge of that. Now, is this really why you called?”
“Yes, this is really why I called. To warn you. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you while you’re there.”
Her muscles tightened. Did he know about the men who died? About everything that had happened to her? If so, how?
He wouldn’t be so desperate for his father’s money that he’d use this as an excuse to harm her . . . would he?
As crazy as the thought sounded, she couldn’t dismiss it. People did crazy things for money.
Maybe even going as far as capitalizing on the killings in the mountains and trying to bring the legend of the Skookum to life . . .
28
Boone and Brynlee spent the rest of the day in his backyard practicing how to use ropes and rappelling and belaying. There was a small rock wall there they could use. Brynlee wasn’t what he’d call a natural. No, she now had scrapes on the palms of her hands, and she’d even torn her jeans. But this was the best place to learn.
Though he doubted Brynlee was going to be great at doing any of this, he had to admire her willingness to see this crazy dream through to fruition.
Afterward, they went to Luke and Harper’s place. Harper had fixed d
inner—a vegetable pasta dish that was delicious. It felt surprisingly normal for all of them to eat together. And Brynlee fit in surprisingly well.
Why did that bring Boone a small measure of delight?
Once Luke and Harper turned in for the evening, Boone and Brynlee remained on the couch, close enough that their knees touched when they turned toward each other.
Boone felt thankful for a few minutes to talk to her alone and get a feel for how she was doing and what she was thinking. His breath caught when he looked at her. Earlier, she’d changed into some yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Her makeup was gone, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
Boone cleared his throat, which had started to feel unreasonably achy. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Brynlee tucked her legs beneath her and nodded. “I am.”
He leaned back into the couch and drew in a deep breath, feeling himself starting to unwind—even if just a little. It was good to get away from the craziness for a few minutes.
He had the strange desire to talk to her, not as someone who’d been thrown into this situation with her, but as a person.
“So, tell me about your dad. Why was going up to Dead Man’s Bluff his dream?”
She glanced at her hands, her earlier lightheartedness disappearing. “It’s a long story but . . . the truth is that I didn’t even know my dad existed until about fourteen months ago.”
He waited for her to continue or to tell him to mind his own business.
“I told you earlier that my mom was a singer. Apparently, my mom and dad met while she was on the road, and they fell in love—quickly. My mom was a bit of gypsy spirit, and my dad wanted to settle down, so they went their separate ways. Then she found out she was pregnant. But she . . . she never told my dad, apparently.”
Boone bit back a frown. “What did she tell you when you were old enough to ask?”
Brynlee rubbed her lips together, her eyes glazing as if she’d drifted to another time. “She told me that my dad had died before I was born, but that he was a wonderful man and I would have loved him. I had no reason to think she lied to me.”
“So, how did you figure it out?”
She shrugged. “To backtrack a little . . . my mom and I were on the road all the time. I basically homeschooled myself. And I hated that life. I wanted stability. I wanted consistency. Instead, I was at a new place almost every night.”
“I’m sure that was difficult.” Boone imagined Brynlee as a child. Imagined her alone and neglected while her mom was out following the dream of making it as a singer. His heart went out to Brynlee. It couldn’t have been an easy way to grow up.
“It was difficult. But I finished high school. I’d always loved making things look nice, so I decided to go to college and get my degree in art. I quickly figured out that world wasn’t for me, so I went back and studied interior design instead. I was designing a client’s house when I got the call that my mom had died in a car accident.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It was. Despite our differences, I think my mom loved me deep down inside. And I don’t ever remember feeling as alone as I did after she passed. I felt like it was me against the world.” Brynlee sucked in a deep breath and absently picked at some imaginary lint.
“I know that must have been hard for you.”
Finally, Brynlee looked up again, a new glimmer in her eyes. “And then one day I got a phone call from a man named Samuel. He told me he did a DNA test, and it had come back that we were related. I thought it was a joke.”
“I didn’t think things like that happened in real life.” Boone had certainly heard some stories but, honestly, he’d doubted their authenticity.
“I didn’t either. I was very skeptical. A friend had gotten me one of those ancestry kits for Christmas, but I didn’t think anything would come of it. Especially nothing like finding my father.”
“What did you do?”
“After a few texts back and forth, I figured it couldn’t hurt to meet this man somewhere public. It turned out he lived only two hours away from my house in Pennsylvania. As soon as I saw him . . . I knew he was telling the truth. We looked so much alike. He was my dad.”
Boone draped an arm across the back of the couch. He had the urge to pull her into an embrace but didn’t, despite the impulse. “Why would your mom lie to you all those years?”
“She was afraid that if my dad knew I was alive, he would try to take me from her. My dad was a successful businessman and had much more means than my mom did. He had stability. She knew the odds would be against her, especially if social services ever found out how I was living.”
Boone’s heart panged. Maybe he’d misjudged Brynlee. She wasn’t Ms. LL Bean—a spoiled rich girl who was used to getting what she wanted. He regretted the assumption.
“Did you and your dad hit it off?” he asked.
“Yes, you could say that. But it was just a little too late. He’d been diagnosed with congestive heart failure and was living on borrowed time. He’d been married—and divorced—and he had three sons. He said he’d always wanted a daughter. We bonded right away, and I spent as much time with him as I could. I really enjoyed getting to know him and learning from him, even if it was for a short period.”
“That’s good, at least.”
“It was good. While we were talking, he told me about his time in Fog Lake and how much he loved it. He made me promise I’d see Dead Man’s Bluff for myself and that I’d scatter some of his ashes there. He said I’d never be the same afterward.”
“That’s a great story, Brynlee.” His hand brushed her hair. He resisted the temptation to run his fingers through the strands. Resisted the urge to playfully tug her ponytail.
“Yeah, it is pretty great—most of it, at least. I mean, he died four months ago. I’m so glad I got to meet him, but I do wish we’d had more time.”
“At least you’re able to honor his wishes now.”
She nodded and glanced at her hands in her lap again. Her voice sounded wistful as she said, “Yeah, at least there’s that.”
Without thinking, Boone reached over, took her hand, and squeezed.
Brynlee glanced up, an almost shy look in her eyes as she smiled at him.
Something about the moment bonded them. Or maybe it was this situation. Whatever it was, Boone felt the walls around his heart slowly breaking down.
* * *
Brynlee felt all her insides turning gooey.
She should not be having this reaction to Boone Wilder. Not to Boone Wilder who infuriated her.
But there was something about him that seemed so tender right now. As she glanced at his green eyes, she felt as if she could see into his soul.
She didn’t ever remember feeling like that before.
She cleared her throat and leaned back. “You know, my mom wrote a song about me once.”
She’d clearly changed the subject, but how could she not? She needed something to distract her.
“Did she? What kind of song?”
“It was a ballad about what she wanted for my future.”
“Can you sing it for me?”
She let out a laugh. “I don’t sing.”
“Then tell me what the song was about.”
She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she remembered her mom singing the lyrics. Her mom had loved her, but she’d never been a great mom. She’d been so focused on her career that Brynlee had always been an afterthought.
While most children spent their childhood playing with friends at the park, Brynlee had spent her childhood listening to her mom warm up at bars. During the concerts themselves, Brynlee had usually escaped to the RV that would be parked behind the building.
She’d had no consistent friends or family or school even.
Brynlee cleared her throat. “It was about how she hoped I had the life that she never did.”
“What did that mean?”
“It meant that she chased empty dreams. She was always alone. When she wasn’t alone, she was with someone who didn’t mean anything to her. People admired her, but only a few people knew her.”
“It sounds . . . sad.”
“I guess her life was full of highs and lows. The highs of getting the gigs she hoped for. The lows of never really going anywhere or having anything to show for it.”
“She had you.”
Brynlee shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, I loved my mom. But . . . if I have kids one day, it’s not the kind of childhood I would wish on them.”
“That’s the nice part about life, isn’t it? The ability to choose our own paths?”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” She realized how personal she’d gotten and knew she needed to veer onto a safer subject. “Boone, about the hike tomorrow—”
He sucked in a deep breath when she mentioned it. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. Everyone seems confident that between Big Ben and this bear they’ve captured that we should be safe.”
“Is it a risk we should take?” She didn’t want to be stupid here. She really didn’t.
“When you put all the evidence together, it does look like a closed case, doesn’t it?”
Brynlee nodded. “Yeah, it does.”
“If this is still what you want to do, then we can go for it.”
She smiled. “Okay, then. It’s a plan.”
Brynlee really, really hoped they didn’t regret this. She and Boone were both trusting the conclusions of the experts here. But why did Brynlee have to wonder if the experts might be wrong?
29
His instincts were finely tuned.
But he didn’t even need to use them today. No, all about town Brynlee and her “security guard” had spoken of their plans to climb Dead Man’s Bluff the next day.
Could they make it any easier for him?
Besides, they had no idea who he was. He’d been out and about in Fog Lake, in plain sight, and they had no idea. The two of them were practically stupid little sheep, not having any clue.
Margin of Error: Fog Lake Suspense, Book 2 Page 13
