Thrill Squeaker

by Christy Barritt

  “Guess what, Gabs?” Nate rushed before any accusations could leave my lips. “We’re now booked through the end of January. Can you believe it? The publicity has been amazing. Amazing.”

  I ignored him and got right to the point. “Did you kill Caleb?”

  The room went silent. Braxton paused from whittling at the kitchen table. Chad froze from stoking the fire.

  “Gabby!” Chad finally said, reprimand in his voice.

  I didn’t care about this job right now. There were bigger issues at hand. My gaze remained locked with Nate’s. “Did you?”

  His entire body tensed, and the smile disappeared from his face. “That’s crazy. Why would I do that?”

  “To keep the rumor mill alive. To keep people’s interest in this place and its morbid past.”

  He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I would never do that.”

  I stepped closer, anger flashing through me. “You hired Caleb to pretend to be Bigfoot.”

  Painful silence followed. I could feel everyone’s gaze volleying from me to Nate like we were part of a bad soap opera.

  Finally, Chad stepped toward me. “You’re out of line, Gabby.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Riley said. “Caleb’s friends admitted to everything. The Tobs told us what happened.”

  “The Tobs?” Chad repeated.

  I shook my head. “A college kid Nate got to know through a class he taught at Whitehurst. He was friends with Caleb Kidwell.”

  Nate stood, his hands raised as if to ward off an attacker. “It’s not what you think, Gabby.”

  I raised my chin, letting him know I had no intention of backing down nor would he be able to pull the wool over my eyes again. “You have no idea everything I’m thinking right now, Nate.”

  I remembered the gun in my purse. I hoped I didn’t have to use it. After almost being killed by a serial killer, I got a concealed carry permit. I never wanted to be in that vulnerable position again.

  However, I really didn’t ever want to use the gun either. My life or the life of the bad guy? The life of a loved one or the life of a killer? When it came down to it, I knew what my decision would be.

  “I may have hired three college guys.” Nate’s shoulders slumped.

  “What?” Chad fell back into a chair, looking absolutely stupefied.

  “None of this was ever supposed to happen.” Nate squeezed the skin between his eyes. “Everything’s gotten out of hand. Totally out of hand.”

  “I’d say that was the understatement of the year,” Riley muttered. “You need to start talking, Nate. This is serious. We’re talking murder, at most. Harassment, in the least.”

  I liked it when Riley talked all tough like that. I also liked someone having my back. It felt good.

  When Nate looked up, his gaze was haggard. “I hired them to pretend to be Bigfoot. I just wanted to stir up some publicity for the place. It seemed cheaper than taking out magazine or TV ads. It was all just supposed to be for good fun.”

  Chad’s mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe this.”

  I kept going, having a Perry Mason moment where I laid out all of the evidence before the jury. “You arranged for them to come right when we arrived.”

  He offered a half shrug. “It’s true. I did. I had to have witnesses, and you all made the perfect subjects. Then Chad told me about your kick-butt investigations, Gabby, and I knew that could work to my advantage—if you didn’t discover my plan first.”

  “My guess is that you led Clarice to believe that calling the media was her idea when all along that was your plan. You just had to convince her to do it so you could have plausible deniability.” My mind was made up that this was true. I just wanted to hear him confirm it.

  His eyes narrowed. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I did. I admit it. But again, it was a banging business move. No one was supposed to get hurt. No one.”

  “What happened to Caleb?” Chad’s expression turned from stupefied to horrified. “Did you . . . did you . . . kill him?”

  Nate gasped and ran a hand over his face. “No! Of course not. I would never do something like that. Never. Who do you think I am?”

  A liar. A manipulator. A cheat. I kept those thoughts silent, and instead asked, “Then what happened?”

  Every movement Nate made seemed neurotic, like his muscles were all tightly wound and causing him to jerk and talk fast. “I have no idea what happened to Caleb. You’ve got to believe me. No one was supposed to get hurt—that’s the truth. I was just as surprised to find Caleb dead as anyone.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the police this information?” I continued. “Why waste their time? While you do, the real killer could be getting away.”

  “I didn’t want to be a suspect. That’s not the kind of publicity I want. I mean, really, Gabby, think about it.” He tilted his head and gave me the “duh” expression I was getting to know all too well.

  Again, he treated me like I was the one with no brains. I wanted to throttle him with a big, old Bigfoot hand.

  “Yet you didn’t call off the troops after Caleb died. You still made Tobs and Franz honor your contract and act like Bigfoot.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook this easily.

  His shoulders slumped even more as his dirty look deepened. “What happened to Caleb was terrible. But I’ve staked everything on this place. If it fails, then I lose everything. Everything. I desperately want to give up that awful job in finance. I abhor it. Abhor it.”

  “Then why haven’t you changed careers?” I asked. Hadn’t he ever heard about how the average person had three different careers in their lives?

  “My dad passed on his bore-of-my-life business to me and expected me to take over. I have to admit that the job pays good money—hot-diggity-dog good money, for that matter. But it’s not worth doing for the rest of my life. This project has to work. It has to.”

  My initial impression that he wasn’t a desk job guy was correct. He wanted to take risks. To experience adventure. To live free.

  He might have a viable explanation for that, but I wasn’t done yet. “What about last night? Why’d you try to run Riley and me off the road?”

  “What are you talking about?” He looked earnestly confused with his wrinkled forehead and narrowed eyes. His hand went to his hips and he stared at me.

  I leaned closer. “I saw your car in your garage. The dented front bumper. The flecks of white paint from my car. You weren’t here during the accident. Maybe that’s because you followed Riley and me and tried to silence us for good.”

  Clarice stood and looped her arm though his. “Nate would never do the things you mentioned.”

  He’d just admitted to half of them! Clarice was going to have to figure her love life out on her own, though. I had bigger issues at hand.

  He shook his head quickly—too quickly. “No way. I would never do that. You’re off your rocker.”

  “Then explain your car,” Riley said.

  “I haven’t driven it in months. It’s stayed parked in my garage. Wait—which car? My Corvette?” He shook his head, as if hoping his thoughts might fall into place.

  “The Buick,” I said.

  “The Buick?” He pulled his lips back in revulsion. “I hate that car. It was my granddad’s though. That’s why I’ve kept it.”

  “Where were you last night?” Riley asked. “Around eight thirty.”

  “I . . .” He hesitated and stole a glance at Clarice before his chest deflated even more. “I was on a date.”

  Clarice gasped. “What? What about all of those talks we had about the future?”

  “Babe, you’ve got to believe me. I meant all of those things—”

  “You’re a liar!” Clarice let out a sob before running to the bathroom.

  Nate scowled at everyone who’d witnessed his humiliation. “It wasn’t like that. I scheduled this before I met Clarice,” he said. “This woman’s father owns a travel magazine. I almost canceled, but it was su
ch a good opportunity.”

  “You’ll do anything for publicity . . .” I let the implications of my statement rush over him.

  “But not murder!” he quickly added. “Never. No way.”

  “I thought more of you, man.” Chad’s face was all tight lines, and a cloud of disappointment hung around him.

  “We’ll have time to talk more about all of this later—I have more questions. I want to verify that alibi. Right now, Franz is missing. Have you seen him?” I asked.

  “Franz? No way, man. I haven’t seen him. Why would I?”

  Tension crackled in the room, right along with the wood being eaten away by the blazing flames in the fireplace.

  “He was backing out of your contract.”

  “That would have been fine. I already got the attention I needed.”

  “Maybe you had to kill him off so he’d stay quiet.” Riley’s words sounded grim, serious.

  “You’re talking crazy.” Emotion grew in Nate’s voice. If it got any bigger, the man might explode.

  “I’m talking crazy? I think there’s a better case in your favor.” Riley’s lawyerish tone emerged and sent tingles up my spine.

  “I haven’t seen him. But I know where he parks when he comes here,” Nate said. “Let’s go check it out before more accusations come flying my way.”

  * * *

  I only hoped we weren’t walking into the woods with a killer, I mused when we all departed a few minutes later. But I figured there were enough of us to take Nate if he turned crazy. Plus, I’d stuffed my gun into the waistband of my jeans, just in case we ran into trouble.

  Nate and Clarice spoke in low tones up ahead. Clarice’s arms were crossed, and it was obvious she wasn’t happy. She hadn’t wanted to come, but we couldn’t leave her in the cabin alone.

  I imagined that Nate was trying to explain things to her. He was a charmer and Clarice loved attention, so the two could very well be back together by the end of the night. Chad and Braxton walked in the middle, and Riley and I trailed at the end. I was glad to be at the end—it gave Riley and I a chance to talk.

  The dark trail was narrow and underdeveloped, the kind where it would be easy to lose our way, especially at night. The moon and stars were all but blocked by the thick canopy of trees. Driving down this way hadn’t been an option, which didn’t thrill me.

  The blackness around was incredible and intense and unlike the darkness back home in Norfolk. If I’d been able to glance at the stars, I bet they’d be remarkable—unobstructed by the city or streetlights even.

  But I wouldn’t be enjoying that tonight.

  Ten minutes into our walk, I noticed that Clarice had forgiven Nate because she began to chatter about mountain lions, bears, and any other beast she could think of and she felt threatened by. Her babbling was driving me crazy, probably because I was already on edge. “Living on a Prayer” repeated over and over in my head. The words to the Bon Jovi song seemed appropriate for my life.

  Chad looked tense in front of me. I wasn’t sure if he would ever forgive Nate for his deceit. But, again, we’d have to deal with that later. Right now we could have another potential victim on our hands.

  Dear Lord, please let Franz be okay. No more people hurt. I don’t know what’s going on, but give us wisdom. Lots and lots of wisdom.

  Riley grabbed my hand as we wrestled with underbrush and as skeletal branches reached for us in the dark.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  “I’m okay. I hope I can say the same for Franz.”

  “Do you believe Nate?” he whispered, throwing a glance at our “wilderness guide.”

  I thought about the question. I knew my gut wasn’t always right—guts were really just a fancy word for strong emotions, and emotions couldn’t be relied on. But I could rely on my powers of observation.

  “He truly looked surprised when I’d brought up Franz missing,” I whispered back.

  “I agree. At least he owned up to being desperate for publicity. However, I don’t think he’d go as far as to murder someone.”

  “I’m inclined to agree, but I’m reserving my judgment. Once someone lies about one thing, I have a hard time trusting that they won’t lie about whatever they want.”

  “Once someone hurts you, you have trouble believing they won’t hurt you again,” he said softly.

  I couldn’t argue or deny it. Riley could read me better than I thought. He knew my trust issues went deep—deep enough that he wasn’t immune. “I think anyone would say that. Our experiences condition us for our future reactions. I think that’s healthy.”

  “I want to spend the rest of my life proving that hurting you is the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

  His words sent my heart fluttering. I hadn’t told him what was wrong, yet somehow he seemed to sense my issues. That was just one thing I loved about Riley—he had the ability to see through to the real me. There weren’t many people I could say that about.

  I squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Riley. I think you know how much you mean to me. I hope you do.”

  Before he could say anything else, Nate stopped ahead of us and rallied the troops. “We’re here.”

  He shone his light on something. I stepped closer to see. I sucked in a deep breath as I realized what it was. An old, gnarled chain-link fence stood in front of us. A hole had been cut, which had obviously allowed people to easily come and go.

  Just beyond the fence was a maroon Toyota Camry. In the windshield dangled a parking pass with “Whitehurst College” on it.

  This was Franz’s car. I didn’t have to ask. I just knew.

  Nate climbed through the fence and shined his light inside. “He’s not here.”

  At first, I wanted to tell him “duh.” Then I felt relief that Franz wasn’t dead inside. But where was he?

  “We certainly didn’t pass him on the trail,” Chad mumbled. “Where could he have gone?”

  “I have no idea,” Nate said. “I hope he’s okay.”

  “Did you ask him to come here and meet you?” I still wasn’t ready to let Nate off the hook. He’d done nothing to indicate he was trustworthy.

  “No, I promise. I didn’t. I have no idea. No blessed idea.”

  I examined the fence. “Is this the way he always came here?”

  Nate nodded. “I showed him, the Tobs, and Caleb this entrance. There’s a little service road they can take off another smaller back road. I plan to eventually widen all of this and use it as a maintenance road for the park, especially for disabled guests.”

  “Well, if he’s not in his car, that most likely means he’s on the grounds of Mythical Falls,” I mused. “If what Tobs said was right, then he’s looking for you.”

  Before anyone could respond, movement in the distance caught my eye. I shined my light back on the path we’d just come from in time to see a tall, hairy figure step onto the trail.

  I was done with this. It was time to get some answers.

  Or my name wasn’t Sherlock . . . er, Gabby St. Claire.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “What are you doing, Gabby?” Riley yelled.

  “I’m ending this.” I darted toward the Bigfoot wannabe. As soon as he saw me coming for him, he took off into the woods, moving faster than I thought he’d be able to.

  Gripping my flashlight, I followed him. There was ridiculous, and there was ridiculous. This was beyond the reasonable and into the plain crazy. If Bigfoot was real, I was about to find out.

  Riley stayed on my heels, and I sensed someone else had come along also. I didn’t turn to see whom. I couldn’t risk taking my eyes off Biggie, who could easily blend in with the shadows and disappear out there. Wasn’t that what people said he’d done for years? He had the uncanny ability to hide, to elude truth seekers, and thus conceal evidence of his existence.

  I didn’t buy it.

  Branches slapped me. Rocks threatened to twist my ankles. The incline made my lungs ache with exertion.

  I moved as quickl
y as I could, but Bigfoot was fast and agile. He seemed to know these woods much better than I did. Typical.

  “Ow.” I heard someone grunt behind me.

  I slowed long enough to glance back. Chad had fallen and was on the ground, holding his ankle and his face was twisted in agony.

  “Are you okay?” I called, my steps faltering.

  “I’ll be fine. Keep going.”

  I hesitated, hating to leave him while injured.

  “I’ll stay with him,” Nate said, kneeling beside him.

  Finally, I nodded. Riley and I started through the woods again. But just that brief reprieve had disoriented me. I paused a moment, trying to remember which direction Bigfoot had been headed.

  “This way.” Riley took my elbow and led me in the direction of the stream. A roar sounded in the distance.

  I knew what that was.

  It was Mythical Falls. The thought unnerved me. We would need to watch our steps. It was so dark out here. If we weren’t careful, we could step off a cliff and . . .

  The thought made my throat go dry. Why did I always find myself in these situations, even when I tried to do the responsible and safe thing?

  Something rustled the underbrush in the distance. Was it our suspect? Or could it be something more along the lines of what Clarice had suggested: a mountain lion or bear?

  None of those options seemed comforting.

  Riley paused and held me back. He put his finger to his lips.

  The darkness provided the perfect cover for someone hiding out and planning a sneak attack. We remained where we were, waiting, anticipating.

  The scampering continued. My head jerked from one direction to the next. Where was the sound coming from? Was my mind playing tricks on me? The sounds seemed so rapid, like it came from multiple areas.

  It was a whole family of Bigfoots.

  I shook my head. Now I was thinking crazy.

  But I didn’t have any idea which way to run, to get away. So I stayed where I was, trying to anticipate what would happen next.

  Finally, the noises faded until silence surrounded us.

  “I think we lost him, Riley.” I frowned.

  “That was . . . freaky, for a lack of a better word. Agree?”