A Brady Paranormal Investigations Box Set

by Harper Crowley

  After dousing the fire, we set out, flashlights in hand. Jess carries a voice recorder too, while I open up the recording of the best Bigfoot noises that I’d saved on my phone. The more sources for any potential noises we hear, the better. The first “whoop whoop” silences the birds and the animals around us. Next, a long, drawn-out howl pierces the night.

  “You know,” Jess says, “I bet Russ could do one of those, easy. Remember that one time you scared him when we were at that house in Ohio?”

  I chuckle. “Now that you mention it, it does sound a lot like him.” Russ ignores us. I turn the volume up on my phone, and the audio plays a series of hollow knocking sounds, followed by some grunts and a couple of warbling whoops.

  I pause it, and we let the silence sink into the space left by the sound. Eventually the night creatures’ noises return, but nothing more.

  “I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed,” Jess says wryly.

  I chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

  We replay the audio three more times as we circle the camp with similar, depressing results, before Jess throws her hands up in the air. “I think this is a bust. Let’s head back.”

  I glance down at Bear, who’s sniffing the ground, his tail at half-mast, completely relaxed. I know how he acts if he senses a ghost, and I have to think he would behave the same way if we came upon a huge hairy creature. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What do you say, Russ?”

  He stifles a yawn, which I guess is answer enough. “Sounds good to me. We can’t expect to find something on the first night. These things don’t just come when you want them.”

  He’s right, but I was hoping we would get a break. Exhausted from the day’s events and unsuccessful hunt, we trudge back to camp. Once there, Russ stokes the dying embers to make sure they won’t reignite, and I log on to upload the audio from Jess’s recorder and make sure the video we took saved correctly.

  All of a sudden, the thunderous rumbling of a truck’s exhaust bursts through the cacophony from the birds and insects. I jump, and my laptop clatters to the ground. A rusty green truck rumbles over the rocks and through the brush until it reaches our campsite. Bear darts past me, but Jess scoops him up before he can get squished.

  “Who the hell is that?” Russ flicks on his flashlight. Seconds later, three guys and a case of beer spill out of the truck’s cab. Buck—I’d recognize that mullet anywhere—is accompanied by two slightly younger carbon copies.

  “I kinda wish we’d run into Bigfoot,” Russ quips. Jess elbows him in the side.

  “Hey, guys.” I lean against the van with my arms crossed in front of me, wary. I don’t know what they’re planning, but we’re not game for whatever that might be. “What’s up?”

  “Shop closed up, so we thought we’d stop by and make sure you found the place all right,” Buck says. One of his clones snickers and hefts the beer from one arm to the other. “It’s not very often we get newcomers who want to camp out here.” He points at the mid-sized version of himself. “This is my brother Hunter.” The middle mullet boy lifts his free hand in a half wave. “And my youngest brother, Trapper.” He has longer hair than the rest, tied in a neat pony tail. Trapper can’t be over fifteen or sixteen. He zeroes in my sister and spits a wad of chew into the bushes. Lovely. These guys must get all the girls.

  I give him a tight smile. “As you can see, we’re fine.”

  “Yeah, well.” Buck surveys me with a lazy smile. “Wouldn’t want you to think we wasn’t the welcoming type. Hunter, give me a beer.”

  His middle brother lugs the case of beer over to the fire and pulls one out. He tosses it to his brother, who pops the top and takes a long sip. “Come on, Meredith, we’re just trying to be friendly. Let’s have a campfire and just hang out. You ain’t got nothing to lose.”

  “I don’t think we’re up to partying tonight,” Russ says, a steely glint in his eyes.

  Bear growls in Jess’s arms. Like Russ, I don’t think hanging out is all these guys have in mind. I’ve got to do something.

  I yawn, and it’s fake as hell, but I hope it does the trick. “I’m sorry, Buck, but we’ve been driving all day. Is there any way we can take a rain check?”

  My unwanted suitor pauses. I don’t think this is what he expected me to say.

  “I’m so sorry, but we’re just too tired tonight.” I give him a fake smile. “Maybe tomorrow you can tell us all about your town and about all of those people disappearing up around here. We heard it might be related to Bigfoot sightings.”

  “What did you say?” This time, it’s Hunter speaking. The middle mullet boy has a higher-pitched voice than his brother, but that mean glint in his eyes is the same. Shit. I thought Sheryl would have mentioned that’s why we’re here. Small-town grapevines work quickly most of the time, except it seems that I’ve overcalculated.

  “I-I-I.” Come on, Meredith, figure something out. “I’m sorry, I should have mentioned it earlier, but I didn’t know you that well.” I bite my lip in an attempt at female helplessness. Oftentimes, it puts them more at ease, and I can get what I want. A girl’s gotta survive in this world somehow. “But now I know I can trust you, I’ll tell you the truth. My team and I”—I gesture at Russ and Jess—“run an paranormal investigative TV show. We travel the country, investigating strange and mysterious things and broadcasting them live for our viewers.” Russ lifts up the GoPro, showing it to Buck and his brothers. I pull the lie tightly around me, like a protective cloak. “I’m so excited to get your help on this. We’re actually live right now. Do you want to say hi to our viewers? There are thousands logged on, I bet. They do love a good mystery and meeting the locals.” Most of that was a lie, but hey, if he buys it then it might just save us from a really uncomfortable situation.

  Buck staggers back, eyes wide. “Shit.” He stumbles into Hunter, drops his beer can, and grabs his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.” Trapper swaggers toward us a couple of steps, his hands clenched into fists, but Buck grabs him, as well.

  “I think we’ll just leave you alone,” Buck says, not taking his eyes off of the camera. “I forgot that we got something to do at home. Drop off the gear in the morning. It... It’s not safe out here.” Without another word, they scramble back into the truck and roar away from the campsite.

  Jess sets Bear down, and he barks once toward the fading tail lights. “Well, that was strange,” she says. “They’ve got to be hiding something.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I say.

  “You know, this is the second time we’ve been kicked out of someplace in one day. It must be a record,” Russ adds. He slips the camera into his pocket. “Definitely weird.”

  Convinced that the threat is gone, Bear trots over to the open case of beer and hikes his leg.

  “That’s the spirit.” I chuckle, wishing he could have done that to our uninvited guests. “Good boy.”

  Russ glances at the tents. “I’m going to finish uploading the footage then try to get some sleep,” he says. “We’ll pack up tomorrow and figure something out.”

  I stare down the two-lane dirt road and then at Buck’s discarded beer can glinting in the moonlight. Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to be able to get much sleep tonight.

  Chapter 7

  I was right. Every single crackle and sound made me jump. Not even Russ’s snoring, usually white noise to me, allowed me to settle into any sort of deep sleep. By the time the first morning birds start serenading, I give up and grab some clothes, washing up best I can and changing in the van. I think Jess had the right idea about camping, after all. That roach motel sounds a lot more enticing after spending a sleepless night outdoors.

  After packing up the next morning, we head into town. I slip into the driver’s seat and glance into the rearview mirror to make sure we didn’t leave anything behind. All that remains, besides our fire pit, is the open case of beer. Maybe Buck or his brothers will come out later and retrieve it. They can have fun with that—Bear used it as h
is personal fire hydrant all night. Serves them right for trying to do what they did.

  “So how are we gonna do this?” Russ asks. He pats one of the rolled-up sleeping bags sitting next to him on the seat behind me. “I mean, we rented these things, so we have to take them back. Do you think they’ll give us any trouble?”

  Jess’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. She doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if she’s still a little shaken up from last night. If she was fine, she’d have some snappy remark.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell them. “You guys can wait in the car, and I’ll take the gear in.”

  Russ eyes me dubiously. “Are you sure? Those guys didn’t seem like the kind to take no for an answer, especially if they were drinking.”

  Unbidden, my mind replays the confrontation. “It’ll be fine,” I lie. “Besides, if he starts any crap, I’ll just start talking about the disappearances again. That got rid of them quick enough yesterday.” The more I say it, the more it seems like a good idea. Hopefully, I won’t have to, and someone else—maybe even Buck’s dad—will be working at the store.

  “I still think I should come with you,” Russ says.

  I touch his arm. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Would it make you feel better if I called you and left my phone on in my pocket so you could hear us talking?”

  He nods curtly.

  “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

  I’m not sure why I don’t want Russ to come with me. Maybe it’s the way Trapper glared at him or the way tensions skyrocketed when I mentioned the disappearances. Either way, I don’t want Russ going all knight-in-shining-armor and getting beat up by a bunch of rednecks with mullets.

  “Please hurry,” Russ says after I call him and slip the phone into my pocket. He still has the troubled look in his eyes that tells me he’s worried. I wonder what it is about these guys that has us so worked up. We’ve handled worse. The case we just finished was a lot riskier than this one.

  “I’m going to check the forums,” Jess says. She hunkers down in her seat and pulls out her phone. “Hopefully, somebody caught something that we didn’t or at least had a good laugh.” She grimaces. “I keep forgetting that this isn’t like one of our normal cases where we’re searching for a ghost. You don’t need an EVP recorder for Bigfoot.”

  “Nope. Let’s just hope we catch something eventually.”

  Russ and Jess are silent for the remainder of the drive, leaving me with only my thoughts and a sleeping dog for companionship.

  The streets of Atopka are barren as we drive down the main street.

  “This isn’t creepy at all,” Jess says, regaining some of her normal bravado.

  “Maybe everybody’s sleeping.”

  I shrug and pull into the parking lot of the bait-and-tackle shop. We’re the only car there. The only lives, even, from what I can see. “It’s not even seven in the morning, so that’s probably it.”

  “Oh yeah, and then Atopka turns into some bustling metropolis, right?” Russ asks. “What are you going to do if they’re not open?”

  I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. Just leave the gear outside?”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Russ says.

  After shouldering the tent and one of the sleeping bags, I head into the shop. Even though the sign says “closed,” the door swings open easily at my touch.

  “Hello?”

  “Can’t you read the sign? We’re closed,” a gruff male voice barks from the back of the store.

  Well, at least I know there’s someone here, and it doesn’t sound like Buck or either of his brothers. I lug the tent and sleeping bag toward the back counter. “I’m just returning some camping gear,” I say. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I didn’t know what time you opened.”

  The man nursing a to-go cup of coffee behind the register looks like an older, world-weary version of Buck. He’s got a thinning blond comb-over, a wiry mustache, and deep, weathered lines around his eyes and mouth. Other than that, he’s just an older version, right down to the mullet.

  “You that chick Buck rented out the sleeping bags and tent to?” He cups the coffee in both hands.

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

  The old man’s eyes rake me up and down, leaving me with the instant urge to sanitize myself after I leave. “You’re not from around here. What’s a young girl like you doing in a place like this?”

  I briefly debate telling him the same story I told Buck but figure that Buck’s probably already told him about us. “My team and I are researching strange sightings and disappearances.”

  He grunts. “My boy mentioned something about that. You know, being out there ain’t safe, especially for a girl like you.”

  A girl like me? What the hell does that mean? I bristle at his tone. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much. And besides, I’ve got a team to help me.” I don’t think mentioning that my team includes a crotchety dog and my sixteen-year-old sister will help my case, so I keep that part to myself.

  The oldest member of the Mullet Boys smirks. “Sure you can, girl. What you want to know about the beast for, anyhow? You know that thing ain’t real. It’s just a legend.”

  I drop the sleeping bag on the floor and lean the tent against the counter. “That’s what we do. We investigate legends. Try to separate fiction from reality.”

  “Sounds like a whole lotta mumbo jumbo shit to me, but whatever floats your boat.”

  Damn, I wish I had my recorder handy. Russ is probably getting a laugh out of this loser. “So you don’t believe in the creature?”

  He snorts. “Hell, no. I don’t believe in nothing but God and a good bottle of whiskey.”

  Well, at least he has some standards. “What about the sightings?”

  He slurps the dregs of his coffee. “Shit. Drinking stories. Old wives’ tales. Take your pick. None of ‘em are real.”

  Well, safe to say I can cross him off of our subscriber list. “And the disappearances? What do you know about them?”

  He scratches his head. “I know there’s a lotta land out there. Coyotes. Rattlesnakes. Cougars. Bear. Lotta things could happen to a tourist who gets lost out there.”

  “So do you think it’s a coincidence that all of these people disappeared in your town?”

  “Coincidence? Hell, girl. These grounds are full of bodies. People disappear all the time and have all the way back to the Indians. There ain’t no conspiracy, no cover up, no monster out there kidnapping and eating people. Just pure, dumb luck.”

  I paste a fake smile on my face at his derisive tone. “I’ll take that into account, thanks. I’ll be right back with the rest of the gear.” His throaty chuckle follows me out to the van.

  “Is everything all right?” Russ asks when I open the back of the van to grab the other two sleeping bags. “Who was that?”

  “That was Buck’s dad. I totally see where he gets it from.”

  Russ’s jaw sets in a firm line. “Why don’t I take the rest of the gear in?”

  I force myself to take a deep breath. “No, I told him I’d bring it. It’s okay, really. I’ve dealt with assholes my entire life. He doesn’t believe there’s anything going on out there. He thinks that animals ate them.”

  I grab the last two sleeping bags and lift them out of the back of the van. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just be in and out.” Right before I shut the door, I realize I’m missing something, and dig around in one of the gear bags for a voice recorder. I turn it on and shove it in my pocket. “He was giving me all sorts of great colloquial advice, and I didn’t have my recorder. I don’t know if I can use the one on my phone if you’re listening too. Maybe if I’m lucky, I can get him to repeat himself.” I give Russ a grim smile. It’s more annoyance than anything, but I’ll subject myself to it if it means I get something good for the subscribers.

  “What’s Jess doing?” I crane my head around the side of the seat to see her in the front.

  Russ fol
lows my glance with his own. “She’s updating the forums and doing a Q and A.” Russ scratches his head. “Apparently looking for Bigfoot is a hit. Who knew?” He shrugs. “I thought I was the only one into this stuff.”

  “Are we getting more requests?”

  “Oh yeah. We might even have to buy our own camping gear.”

  I chuckle. “That might not be a bad idea. It would sure save money on hotel rooms. Unfortunately, I don’t think we have enough space in the van with your tote full of Pringles and Mountain Dew. We might have to leave that behind.”

  Russ shakes his head mutinously. “I’ll quit.”

  “I’m kidding.” I pick up the two sleeping bags. “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as the door to the shop closes behind me, a pair of voices arguing in the back of the store reaches my ears. I pause. Should I wait here for them to finish, go on back and drop the stuff off, pretending to be oblivious to their conversation, or just leave the gear here? Option C would probably be the smartest idea, but I haven’t been known for choosing the smartest options of late. I creep forward, my footsteps silent on the dirty linoleum floor.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Buck’s dad snaps. “You let your brother take some dumb bimbo out on our land just ‘cause he wanted to get drunk and get laid? Jesus Christ, Trapper. I knew your brother was an idiot, but you’re supposed to be the smart one. Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “I didn’t know, honest,” Buck’s youngest brother whines. “He just said there was a party out in the back forty. I didn’t know they was looking for the missing people or Bigfoot.”

  “Oh yeah? And what would you a done if you knew?” The elder Mullet Boy slams his hand down on the counter. “Hide out in the woods with your traps and your gun? Like I don’t know what you’re doing out there, boy.”

  “I-I-I’d a told you, Dad. I promise.”

  His father snorts. “And then you all just left them out there? What in the hell woulda happened if they’d went missing? Huh? Did you ever think about that? The cops woulda been all over this place. You know how I feel about cops. They’re always looking for a reason to put me away. Especially that dumbass sheriff. He’d love to come on our land and plant something so he can arrest me. He’s wanted that for years.”