Was it her imagination, or had Bigfoot saved her?
Chapter 15
The dark figure he’d chased out of Marnie’s back yard could not possibly be faster than he was, yet it all too quickly disappeared. By the time he made it to the front yard the dark thing, whatever it was, was gone. Clint, still in his beast form, looked around the area for a few minutes, but even his nose gave him no clue as to where the attacker had gone.
Whatever, whoever it was, the shadow possessed a dark magic that disguised their identity and allowed it to elude him. You’d think in all his years in Mystic Springs he might’ve seen such a creature, but he had not. The town was lousy with witches, male and female, and he couldn’t possibly know the abilities of each and every one.
Not every Springer wanted their friends and neighbors to know what they could do.
Clint explored the yards of the closest houses but found nothing, no clue, no unusual scent.
He returned to Marnie’s house, lumbering into her back yard much more slowly than he’d left it. Given the hour he could, and should, run home, shower, and put on some clothes. But before he did that he had to make sure she was okay, had to assure himself that whatever had threatened her was truly gone and had not simply made its way past him and turned back to finish whatever it had started.
Was the attacker someone after the formula Alice had discovered? And if so, was the goal to use or destroy it? It didn’t matter. Danger was danger, no matter what the motive.
He thought he’d find Marnie in a panic, but she sat in a rocking chair on her back porch, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. The woman did love her morning coffee. She still wore her robe, a fluffy blue monstrosity which was tightly belted, and her hair was nicely mussed. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, or any makeup. He liked her this way. Raw. Natural. His. When she saw him she stood. He waited for panic, for a scream like the one that had alerted him that she was in danger.
She didn’t scream. She didn’t look at all worried or scared or disgusted.
Monster. Grotesque. He remembered the words she’d used to describe him. They still hurt.
She wasn’t quite brave enough to leave the porch, but she did walk to the screen and look down at him. The screen was a fine mesh, but still obscured her face more than he liked. He took a few steps closer in order to see her more clearly, again expecting a frightened response from her. He didn’t get one.
“Thank you,” she said softly. Then she calmly took a sip of her coffee.
If he could answer in his current state he would, but words had never come to him in this form. There was only the whoop, and a growl, and the occasional grunt.
He could circle around and walk up her steps, though opening the screen door might be a problem. His hands were big and powerful, but they were not agile enough to grasp the tiny knob there. He could easily jump up, tear the screen away, and join her on the porch. She had to know that, and yet she did not seem concerned. Dyn Gwallt had the height and the strength, and she had no way of knowing that he was a peaceful creature, in this form more truly than in the other. Knowing that, seeing him up close and understanding his strength, Marnie didn’t seem at all alarmed.
She placed one hand on the screen. The mesh gave a little at her touch. He reached up his own hand and barely touched it to hers. That insubstantial screen, which would be so easy to rip away, was the only thing between them. Even when his hand was there, touching hers, she did not move away.
“This is the weirdest town,” she whispered. “I really should go. Coming here was a mistake. I could move in with my dad, for a while.”
Clint couldn’t help himself. He grunted.
Marnie dropped her hand. “As much as I hate to, I probably will. Or else I could stay with my friend in Birmingham for a while and look for a job there, though it wouldn’t be in a library. I could find something else, I guess. But there’s something I have to do first.” She sighed and took another sip of coffee. “Somehow I have to get rid of a cryptozoologist.”
Fresh out of the shower, Marnie dressed for a quiet Sunday. White capris. A blue blouse suitable for the heat. Tennis shoes. Like it or not, she might as well be prepared to run at a moment’s notice. That seemed to be a requirement in this town.
She did wonder a time or two where Clint was, but deep down she knew. Something she’d said had spooked him big time, and he’d run. Literally. His clothes were draped over a chair in her bedroom. He hadn’t even taken the time to dress, and he hadn’t come back for them after his run.
Yeah, he’d run all right.
Only after she was dressed did she give the house a once over. The picture the shadowman had taken down remained in the dining room, leaning against the wall. There was no clear evidence of disturbance in the parlor, and yet… had that book been moved? Hadn’t that ceramic cat been facing the window, not the door? A chair had been moved, judging by the indentation in the throw rug. Small things.
She probably should call the police, but after the way the chief had treated her last time she’d had a scare, she wasn’t eager to contact him with this newest complaint. What was he going to do, anyway? He’d probably pat her on the head, call her little lady, and tell her it had all been her imagination. She’d spare herself that aggravation.
No, she had other, more important things on her mind. She wasn’t going to stay in Mystic Springs, that was a given, but she couldn’t leave town until she found a way to get rid of Nelson Lovell. Her email had brought him here, so he was her responsibility.
Bigfoot, or whatever it was, shouldn’t be hunted like an animal. Even if it was an animal. Eye to eye contact and a touch of a, well, paw, and her mind had been changed. The beast was not a monster. It was not even a beast, not really. Bigfoot was a living creature with a heart. A warm and surely misunderstood being who had shown himself to her in order to save her from a shadow monster with a knife. Whatever it was, Bigfoot deserved to be left in peace.
The shadowy figure she’d found in her dining room scared her much more than Bigfoot ever could. Obviously the early morning light, or lack thereof, had played tricks on her mind and her eyes. She’d forgotten to lock the front door last night, or else Clint had not locked whatever door he’d exited for his late-night jog, and a thief had wandered in. A thief with a knife. A thief who had chased her out of her own house. Well, it wouldn’t be her house much longer. Mystic Springs had been fun, but enough was enough. She’d get rid of Nelson and then she was gone.
What about Clint?
That question was a tough one. She liked him, she liked him a lot. The sex was great. He made her laugh, though he wasn’t what anyone would call a funny guy. He made her forget all the weirdness in this crazy town. She’d really thought they had something special, something she’d been searching for her entire life. But he’d run out of her house naked in the middle of the night and not come back, so…
Marnie had to once again reevaluate her priorities. No, she didn’t want Mr. Darcy, not anymore. She wanted someone real in her life. Someone warm and honest. She wanted to fall in love with a man she could trust and rely on, and she wanted him to love her. It didn’t matter if he could say library properly, or if he was refined, or if he had a British accent or a waistcoat or a pretty face. She wanted a man who could love her, who could be her other half in all aspects of life.
Did such a creature exist? If there was really a Bigfoot, then maybe there was a chance.
She decided to walk to the B&B where Nelson had spent the night. It was a nice enough day, and after all the gumbo she’d eaten last night she could use the exercise. Janie was sitting on her front porch, shelling peas. Marnie waved, but didn’t slow down. She had a purpose this morning. A plan, of sorts. When she reached Main Street she expected it to be empty, since all the businesses were closed on Sunday. At least, she thought they were. A number of people walked, as she did, toward the other end of town. Ah, it was Sunday, and there was a non-denominational church just down the road from the retirement
village. Residents were walking to morning services. Among them, Felicity. The young girl wore her fair hair in her usual pigtails, but had traded in her shorts and t-shirt for a pretty dress made of a summer-light and flowery fabric.
Felicity turned back and ran a short distance to join Marnie. “Are you going to church? Mama will be so pleased.”
“No, sorry. Perhaps another day. I’m on my way to see a friend.”
Felicity scrunched up her nose. “The Bigfoot hunter.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
A few of the people on the street turned to look at her. They weren’t exactly friendly, but they didn’t stare all that much, either. Maybe they were getting used to her. Too late.
“Everyone knows,” Felicity said, spinning about on the sidewalk, doing a 360 that made her skirt float and her pigtails dance. “Clint must be so pis…” She stopped. “Annoyed. Clint must be annoyed.”
“Why?” Good lord, did everyone in town know what was going on? And did they think Clint would be jealous of Nelson Lovell? “I barely know Nelson. And he won’t be here very long, I’m sure.” She intended to make sure of it.
“Good.”
An attractive woman a block ahead turned and gave Felicity a frustrated wave.
“Gotta run! Maybe I’ll see you later.”
Run she did. Felicity was one of those children who was never still, who never walked when she could run or skip.
Marnie turned down the next street and walked toward the B&B at the far end of the road. If Nelson was a late sleeper, she might catch him in bed. He might be annoyed to be awakened. She didn’t care. He had to go.
The B&B looked like many others. Old, white, square, three stories tall. The house might’ve been built a hundred years ago, or more. There were rose bushes galore around the wide front porch, and lace curtains in the windows. To the side was a gravel parking lot, where Nelson’s ridiculous sports car was parked. Behind the B&B there was a well-tended lawn, but beyond that, woods. The entire town was surrounded by trees, all but isolating it.
If she could see into the forest well enough from her vantage point, she might be tempted – once more – to search for Bigfoot herself. She wasn’t frightened of the creature the way she’d been just yesterday, when she’d hung back and let Nelson go into the woods alone.
She didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t even want a picture, as she had a few days ago. No, she wanted to apologize for bringing Nelson here. The creature who had chased away her shadowy intruder was gentle. He might not look it, but…
Truth was, she had a hundred questions for him.
Hmm. Him or her? With all that hair — long thick hair from head to toe — it had been impossible to tell. She hadn’t pointedly looked, but at quick glance she hadn’t noticed any genitalia. Still, she had sensed a masculine energy. And if Bigfoot was a woman, well, that would be unfortunate. Though logic dictated…
Logic? Who was she kidding? And from all she could tell, Bigfoot wasn’t capable of answering any questions, not from her or anyone else.
Nelson was not still asleep; he sat alone at the long table in the B&B dining room, sipping at a fine china cup filled with steaming coffee, or perhaps tea, and picking at what was left of a muffin. No one else was present, not another guest, an employee, or the owner. The room looked as if it hadn’t changed in a hundred years. The polished wooden table could easily seat a dozen, but it was set, on this Sunday morning, for one. The chairs appeared to be old and unsubstantial — the legs were spindly — but like the table they were polished and elegant. The rug was worn but not shabby, and the dark wooden floors beneath were clean and shiny, with only the occasional hint of warping.
The only thing in the room that was out of place was the man at the table. Nelson didn’t belong here. With his weirdly fancy clothes and his man bun, with his obvious disdain, he did not belong.
She could empathize. It was a lonely feeling to be out of step, to not fit in.
Marnie had never truly trusted her instincts. For a long time, she hadn’t believed she had any. At the very least, those instincts hadn’t been what anyone would call sharp. But standing in the doorway of this finely furnished room, she experienced a rush of knowledge, a certainty, that she should not have sent that email.
Nelson turned his head, smiled at her, and then he winked. “You look lovely this morning,” he said, as if he hadn’t told her yesterday that the camera added ten pounds.
“Thanks,” she said. “Look, I have a confession to make.” She took a deep breath and steeled her spine.
He stood slowly and indicated the chair beside him. “Join me for tea while we talk about our plans for the day.”
Marnie did her best to be tough. Nothing else would do, in this circumstance. “We have no plans for the day. I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time. I was obviously suffering from heat exhaustion and hallucinating when I saw what I thought I saw, and I…”
His smile faded, his eyes narrowed. For an instant he was not so pretty; he was not pretty at all. “You’re having second thoughts.”
“Well…” Marnie squirmed. This was not fun, nor was it easy. “Yes. I didn’t intentionally lie, but the more I think about that day the more I wonder. You see, I had a terrible time getting here. There was a flat tire, and it was so hot, and I had to walk the road in heels.” She dipped her head then peeked up at Nelson. “Maybe I had a panic attack.”
She expected him to be angry. After all, she’d wasted his time. She saw that anger in his expression, but then it faded. He resumed his seat, took a sip of tea, then said — eyes straight ahead, not on her at all, “I don’t believe you. I don’t know why you’re trying to take back what you said to me, but I can see it all too well. You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m actually a very good…” She stopped abruptly.
Nelson looked at her once more, his eyes calculating. “What made you change your mind? Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” Marnie said, hoping she was a better liar than he gave her credit for. “You’re welcome to stay in Mystic Springs as long as you’d like.” She was confident that if there was no Bigfoot, he’d blow out of this town in a heartbeat. Nothing else here would interest him.
“If I decide to stay, will you continue to assist me?”
After a brief hesitation, Marnie shook her head.
“Why, I wonder?” he asked. “What’s changed in a day?”
I met the monster and he is not a monster after all. She couldn’t tell him that.
Elaine Forrester saved her from having to come up with a response. The hefty woman, wearing a bright yellow dress that appeared to be almost as old as the house, swept into the room with flair, a smile on her face, her white hair flowing behind her. Marnie had met Elaine briefly at the reception Friday evening, but knew little about her. What she did know at a glance was that the older woman was smitten with her houseguest.
Nelson stood, smiled at the B&B owner, then took her hand in his and kissed it. “Mrs. Forrester, you are a vision, as always.”
The woman giggled like a girl. “Oh, dear, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Elaine?”
A shiver walked up Marnie’s spine. The British accent, the charming smile, the compliments, the way Nelson had of looking a woman in the eye as he spoke. Good Lord, he was like a cobra.
When was he going to strike?
Clint stood on the sidewalk in front of Marnie’s house, staring at the door. She wasn’t inside. He knew it, felt it, smelled it. Where was she? Out with Lovell, he imagined, looking for proof that Bigfoot existed. Looking for him.
He shouldn’t be surprised. He hadn’t known Marnie Somerset a week. She was pretty and funny and great in bed, but he didn’t know her. It had been foolish to think he did, to imagine for a while that they might have something.
They’d see her out of town with a cup of amnesia punch, as they did all Non-Springers who saw more of Mystic Springs than they should. A
t least Frannie had promised not to make another cake for the new librarian. Bizarre and potentially deadly as she was, Frannie was a woman of her word.
Marnie deserved better. After all, when she’d brought his greatest nightmare to his door she hadn’t realized who — what — he was.
And still, he felt as betrayed as he had when he’d discovered that Jenna had spent years trying to find a way to fix him.
He didn’t want to be fixed. He certainly didn’t want to be a part of Lovell’s damn TV show.
Maybe it was time to give up the fantasy that he might find a woman to call his own, that he might one day have what his parents had found. A forever partner. Someone who would love and accept him as he was.
He glanced to the house next door, as James Garvin stepped onto his front porch. Clint raised a hand in a half-hearted wave; the grumpy old man did not return that greeting.
Now would be a perfect time to search the house for the formula Susan had asked him to find. It didn’t matter that Garvin was watching. Didn’t matter if anyone else had seen him, either. If he was caught inside the house with Marnie not at home, it would be easy enough to explain why he was there. They were sleeping together, after all.
Or had been.
“Hi.”
Clint nearly jumped out of his skin. No one snuck up on him! He should’ve heard Marnie coming for a block, or more. He should’ve smelled her.
He smelled her now. She smelled of coffee and cinnamon, of old books and new, of Marnie. And she smelled a little of Nelson Lovell.
She sighed. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 16
They’d never sat in the parlor to visit, like a normal couple might. No, she and Clint had spent their time together in the bedroom, and the kitchen, and in the bedroom again. She wanted to have this particular conversation here; she on the sofa, Clint in a man-sized chair that faced her.
Bigfoot and the Librarian Page 14
