by Bonnie Gill
“Yeah. I will. But it probably won’t work. Maybe that’s something you need to say for yourself.”
“Thanks, Pepper.” River tucked his tail between his legs and left the pet store.
He missed Abby’s kisses and the sweet smell of her cherry lip balm. He missed the cute freckles that spattered across her nose and her soft enticing skin. What was he thinking when he installed those damn cameras? That she wouldn’t find out? He shook his head to try to shake his memories and regret away, and headed back to the police station.
Intelligence on Gnomes in the L.A.M.P.S. archives was scarce and vague. Apparently, Gnomes had been out-smarting their agents for years. What he did learn is they usually had some type of master to whom they reported, and the master usually had them on task hunting for treasure. He just had to figure out who the master was.
River cracked his jaw. Certainly Abby and Pepper couldn’t be the Master? Could they?
Ottar had installed cameras around Charlotte’s house. His suspicions proved correct. That woman loved to entertain the opposite sex. At least three different men visited Charlotte’s house each day. Plumbers, electricians, and other trade trucks were parked in creative succession in front of her house. Nothing showed them that she mastered the Gnome.
The Jersey Devil was AWOL.
River fisted his hand against the desk until his knuckles went white. This detail baffled him to no end. Mr. Livingston was the only citizen in town who’d witnessed the beast besides the video released on the internet. Livingston’s report led them to the Gnome, so River had no reason to discredit the old man’s account of his encounter with the Jersey Devil.
River flipped through the Cryptid textbooks, and investigated other agent’s on-line archived journals for any information on the flying beast. Over fifty years had passed since the last one was spotted. It too remained elusive, but the sightings were about a month apart.
He got up from his desk and studied the calendar. Mr. Livingston had seen it over two weeks ago. Maybe next week or the week after it would come out again? Sure, it was a hunch, but right now that was the only lead. He trusted his gut.
Nerves between his shoulders knotted up into a gnarled mess. If he didn’t catch them soon the agency would start to doubt his ability. Never had he been this twisted over a case, with the exception of when his brother suffered the attack. Just a mere boy then, and certainly not a qualified hunter, he hated the memories. He pushed the flashback of his worst failure from his thoughts.
River scanned the books searching for clues about the Jersey Devil. Other hunters detailed a clear gel-type substance found by a river or stream the day after one was spotted. This is new. He made a note in his notebook to walk all the riverbeds. He closed the book with a thump and got up to pace, hoping some hot red pumping blood might aid his concentration.
Before he made three passes, his phone rang.
“Sheriff Stone,” River answered.
“Sheriff. It’s Thomas. Oh, man. I went hunting this morning and found a dead body in the forest. You have to see this. What kind of animal would do this? You have to come quick.”
“Where are you?”
Thomas gave River the exact location, his voice shaky, and filled with terror.
“I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Don’t move and don’t touch anything.”
“Good, because I don’t know how much longer I can be around this corpse.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“Nope. He’s in old worn clothes though. Hurry up.” They both hung up.
On his way to the site, River called Ottar and gave him the location. Ottar, already in the forest, beat River to the scene. When River arrived, he saw yellow tape strung around the scene to keep anyone from contaminating the area.
“What do we have here?” River asked Ottar when they walked under the crime scene tape.
“Looks like our Gnome got hungry.” Ottar spoke in a low volume so Thomas wouldn’t hear him. “I found your hunter there sitting by a tree about fifty yards away. From the look of the vomit near the body, Thomas lost his breakfast when he found the victim.”
River moved closer and bent down to inspect the dead man. A hole in the top of his head about two inches in diameter sunk into his skull. It flanged out at the opening. Saliva surrounded the pit and made the hair stick to the victim’s head. River took out his flashlight and illuminated inside the hole. Nothing but an empty skull remained. He looked up at Ottar and gave a confirming nod before stepping over to talk to Thomas.
Thomas’s face was the shade of green olives. He looked like he needed to hurl again.
“Are you doing all right?” River asked. He held out a bottle of water he’d retrieved from Ottar’s backpack.
“Sheriff . . . Did you see that guy’s head? Something stole his brain. What kind of animal could do that?” Thomas tried to stand, but his legs collapsed causing him to fall back on his butt.
“I don’t know, but you can be certain we’ll find it.” River’s voice sounded confident. He knew exactly what ate the victim’s brain. The Gnome was a dead Gnome as soon as he found the blasted bastard.
As expected, the evidence left behind was scarce. No hair or material threads, only saliva. River took a cotton swab and collected the Gnome’s mucus from around the puncture wound. He dropped it into a sealed container which he’d overnight to L.A.M.P.S. main headquarters in Area 51, so the scientist geeks could analyze the evidence. No doubt the results wound end up pointing to the Gnome.
That was, if they had other Gnome DNA to compare it to. He doubted they would.
River questioned Thomas, but got little information. He claimed he was hunting in the woods and stumbled on the body. Pretty cut and dry.
There were a few things though that bothered him, though. First, Thomas didn’t seem the hunting type because he remembered Pepper complaining about his shoes when they paired up during the search party for Mr. Livingston. Surely a man who hunted regularly would know what kind of shoes to wear when traipsing in the forest.
Second, his camouflage clothing looked brand new. When he asked Thomas about it, he replied he had just bought them because his others were worn out. Both reasons put him on the suspect list.
Ottar helped him tag all the evidence and photograph the murder site. After they labeled everything, they called the secret L.A.M.P.S. cleanup crew to pick up the body.
“This is getting out of hand. It’s very rare to have more than one casualty from a Cryptid. Another one, and the press would be poking around. The last thing we need is for this to be broadcast across America,” Ottar said.
River remembered this man. The victim turned out to be the homeless man who lived in town and must have wandered into the forest. Oddly enough, he usually stuck to the streets. Could he have been set up as an offering? Yep. Another thing he would have to check out.
“You check the forest tonight and I’ll question people on the streets,” River said to Ottar.
Ottar nodded and packed up the last of the evidence. What Ottar lacked in people tactics he made up for in guerilla warfare. He would be more at home alone in the forest tracking the Gnome.
“You think the homeless guy was set up?” Ottar was no dummy.
“Of course. I want surveillance on Thomas.” He had extra cameras now that Abby had returned the two. At least Abby and Pepper hadn’t found the last one up in the trees. If they had, they’d have taken it down. Last night he and Ottar watched the feed of the two women and nothing happened. The ladies did chores around the yard, fed the animals, and retired early. Lately that was the only way River got to see Abby.
Charlotte’s surveillance feed proved boring. In fact, she hadn’t been home in the past few days. He’d check to see if she’d used her passport.
“You want me to go over to Pepper�
��s house and warn her about the Gnome?” Ottar seemed a little too eager to spread the warning to the women.
“Sure. They need to be careful and aware of what’s going on. I’d go myself, but Abby’s on a no-River crusade at the moment.” She may not open the door for Ottar either, but it was worth a try considering their safety was at risk.
“You don’t suspect them anymore do you?” Ottar asked.
“No. Especially now that someone lured a meal into the woods.” Whoever did this to that poor homeless guy didn’t have a heart. “Pepper and Abby don’t fit the profile.”
“We can’t be sure. Right now it’s circumstantial evidence.”
“True, but my gut tells me I’m right on this one.” His gut, his head, and even his intuition all agreed.
“Mine does too.” Ottar swung the pack over his shoulder and turned to walk to his vehicle.
“Hey, tell them to refrain from going out at all during the night,” River called out.
Ottar kept walking. His wave above his head indicated that he’d heard him.
Abby looked out the window of the front door and hesitated to pull it open. Ottar waited on the porch with his hands shoved in his pockets. If she pretended he wasn’t there, maybe he would go away.
Knock. Knock.
Or not.
What if River was hurt or worse? She turned the knob and opened the door.
“Finally.” Ottar let out a long audible hard breath. “We found a body in the woods that border this property. Make sure you and your girlfriend don’t wander off alone. I suggest you use the buddy system. Or better yet, don’t go out at night.” He crossed his arms. “Sheriff’s orders, ey?”
Stunned from the news, she tried to figure out what he was trying to say. “A human body?”
“Is there any other kind?” Ottar held out his hands, and his brown eyes sparkled with wildness.
“Yes, it could have been an animal’s body.”
“That would be a carcass. Anyway, it looks like some kind of animal killed him. It’s not safe out there. Have you noticed any of your animals hurt, or missing?” He put his hand against the doorjamb and craned his neck to peer inside the house.
Abby stepped in front of him to block his view. “No.”
His face flashed disappointment for a split second. “You girls got any weapons?” He pulled back his hand from the door opening.
“I doubt it, but I could ask Pepper. I don’t own any.” Guns scared her.
“You might want to get a gun.” He turned and walked away.
She shut the door and Pepper wandered into the room.
“Who’s that?” Ready for bed, she had dressed in her yellow pajama bottoms and baby blue tank top with yellow rubber duckies printed on the front.
“Ottar came over to say they found someone killed by an animal in the forest, and to be careful.”
“That jerk was here?” She sneaked a smile, then straightened her lips and crinkled her forehead.
“Yeah. I have a feeling the Gnome killed that guy.”
Pepper scratched her temple. “Why would a Gnome kill someone? Don’t they help tend your gardens and do commercials for travel companies?”
Throwing her hands up in an I-give-up gesture, Abby replied. “I have no idea, but when River talked about the Gnome and the Jersey Devil in the pet store last week he said they were very dangerous.”
“Okay. No more taking the dogs out at night alone.”
“The Gnome bounced off the hood of my car during the daylight.”
“But it was late in the day. At dusk, right?”
“Yep.” Abby sat at the kitchen table.
“The horses are safe in the barn at night, I hope. If anything happened to them, it would crush me. I’ll keep the dogs inside most of the time until they catch it.” Pepper shook her head, like she couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Good idea.”
“You miss him.”
“Who?” Abby twirled an empty napkin ring on her finger.
“Oh my gosh. You know, River.”
The ring stopped spinning and dropped off. Did she miss him? Maybe. Okay, that was a big fat yes. But he was just like all the other men in her life. “He betrayed me. There’s no coming back from that.”
“But you don’t know for sure why he had the cameras pointed at our house. And even if he suspected we were involved in some way, he’s right. We are.”
“I hate that you’re even involved at all. I wish I hadn’t dragged you into this mess with me.” She didn’t deserve such a good friend.
“I don’t. That’s what friends are for? Besides, paybacks a bitch.” Pepper wrapped her arm around Abby’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “Believe me, I’ll need you to help me out sooner or later.”
“I’d be happy to do anything for you. What do you need?”
“First we get rid of your curse.”
“I’m going to call my mom’s neighbor. He should still be up.”
She dialed the phone, and he assured her he would not give up looking. Her mother’s attic was a mess so it could take some time.
A small weight lifted off the stack of lead sinking into Abby’s chest. Her mom should know where it is. Her pack-ratting had a system to its chaos, and that woman knew where everything was located.
“It didn’t sound like he found it,” Pepper said.
“No. My mom is supposed to call him tomorrow.”
“Good. No more worrying tonight. Let’s do something fun.” Pepper pulled out a board game from the closet. Pepper thrived on competition. Abby made up her mind to let her win tonight.
Chapter 22
River crouched behind the bushes while watching Thomas’s house. Scattered lights illuminated the inside, and Thomas’s rusty old silver Ford Probe sat parked alone in the driveway. He focused through his binoculars but didn’t see any movement in the house or on the property.
The camera that River needed to install weighed under a pound so he could mount it almost anywhere. He scanned the yard for the best spot. Two trees towered over the north corner of the front yard. He chose a low-hanging branch, and aimed the lens at the front of the house. The second camera belonged in the backyard.
Just after River finished installing both cameras under the cover of darkness, a car pulled in the driveway. He checked his watch. Ten fifteen illuminated back at him. Two people got out of the car, and Thomas met them at the front door. River moved in closer. How interesting? Mr. and Mrs. Livingston entered Thomas’s home.
The old couple stayed for well over an hour, and before they left, Thomas walked them to their car. River watched him kiss them both on their cheek. Well, that explained that. The three of them were obviously related. Still, he would run a background check to see just how they were related.
After the Livingstons took their leave, Thomas cut out the lights and the house stilled. River gathered up his equipment and headed back to the office. On his way, he called Ottar.
“Hey, any luck?” River asked his boss.
“None. That fugly Gnome is pretty good at covering up his tracks. How about you?”
“I installed the cameras. And get this, Thomas is related to the Livingstons.”
“It could be nothing. These small towns are stuffed with people related to each other.” Ottar’s voice sounded distracted and he wondered why.
River let out a frustrated sigh. “I know, but I’m still going to check it out.”
“Got to run, mate. I just heard something a few meters away.”
“Call me after you check it out. I’ll meet you in the woods at the rendezvous point.” River hung up his phone and entered the empty police station. Nothing ever happened in this small town except the Cryptid chaos. He wondered if he should go out and pu
ll some people over for speeding or something so the townsfolk would think of him as a real sheriff who earned his keep.
He had questioned people on the street that afternoon about the homeless man. Everyone reported that he usually hung around town, and was known to sleep in the park at night covered with the local newspapers for warmth. No one really minded the old bum loitering around their shop doors. He never bothered anyone. Even the restaurant owners gave him helpings of their extra food.
One thing rang true. They all had been concerned that they hadn’t seen him around lately. They all worried about his disappearance.
River overnighted the saliva samples to L.A.M.P.S. headquarters. He expected to have those results within a few days. After all, the government agency had the best computers and scientists on their team. How could these particular Cryptids hide from him so well? He’d found the infamous Thunderbirds in a wider area in half the time.
Thoughts of Abby sprung to his mind. Her brown curly hair had felt so soft when he curled it around his finger. Well, he’d blown this one that was for sure. It would be a frozen day in hell before she would go out with him again, or let alone even talk to him. Emptiness filled his ribs with a hollow loneliness. He hoped she’d heed Ottar’s warning and stay the hell out of the woods, especially at night. Ottar’s less than reassuring report convinced River those two would never listen.
He flipped on the camera feed to Pepper’s house. Both Abby and Pepper were outside the barn looking up at the sky. What the heck were they doing out so late?
The phone rang and Ottar’s number came up on the ID.
“That turned out to be nothing,” he said before he could say hello.
“The girls are outside. I’m trying to see what they’re doing. Hang on.” He zoomed in the camera. “It looks like they’re playing with a piñata.”
