Legend Hunter

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “What do you want?”

  He wanted to get his first look at the woman who could help him, but the shotgun was distracting. Her long fingers rested on the slim piece of metal that only required one jerk and he’d be riddled with buckshot.

  “My name is Ben Harmon.” He managed through a lump in his throat. He swallowed and peered behind the length of the gun. She was tall, short blonde hair and long, tapered fingers, one of which rested on the trigger. Her eyes were green and glittered in the muted daylight. He hadn’t expected to be rattled by barrel of the shotgun, but his heart beat fast. Apparently, the thought of being a target wasn’t as bad as the reality. Come on. You’ve faced ghosts and demons before. What’s so scary about a double barreled shotgun in your face? He took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out slowly.

  “I know who you are. So?” Her tone resembled gritty leaves, harsh and crisp.

  Time to prove he had a set of cajones. “I have a letter from your father.”

  *

  Her stomach churned, and Kiera shifted her grip on the shotgun, her arms strained as she tightened her muscles to keep it trained on the tall stranger. This was unexpected. A letter from her father. Why did everything circle back to him? The cold hearted son of a bitch was dead. Why couldn’t he stay dead? She snorted. Even being buried in the ground didn’t stop him from fucking with her. The man was capable of doing anything.

  “My father is dead.” She stated in a flat tone. Dead. In a drunken stupor after having two strokes.

  “He sent it to a lawyer before his death. It involves you.” The tall stranger took a single step forward and reached the bottom step. Kiera resisted the instinct to step back and she kept the gun leveled at his heart. He didn’t look dangerous particularly, but her blood ran colder anyway.

  It wasn’t the way he looked, though he had to be over six feet three. His sandy brown hair was slicked by the rain and his blue eyes peered into hers as if he knew her thoughts. It was unnerving. He didn’t look anything like the picture on the back of his books. For one thing, he seemed taller and more muscular. The pictures showed him sitting, which was a shame since the lower half of the man’s body was damn nice to look at.

  She wrenched her thoughts away from his hot body and focused on the reason for his intrusion.

  “Nothing about my father involves me.” The bitterness in her own voice caused her to wince. After all this time, she thought she had exorcised her father’s ghost. Apparently not.

  He stepped forward again which brought him beneath the awning over the porch and half-way up the porch steps. “This does.” The man reached into his back pocket and removed several pages and began to read them as if she didn’t have her finger on the trigger ready to blow his head off. Bold.

  “If this letter is opened then my wife is either dead or her power of attorney has been passed to my daughter, Kiera McConnel. Since I left the money from my retirement and the trust I set aside for Bigfoot research to my wife, I wish to add an addendum to my will.” His gaze flicked to her face and back to the paper. Stunned, she could only snap her mouth shut. Even in death, her father was a bastard.

  The stranger went on. “If Kiera McConnel will not lead an expedition to discover new information on Bigfoot, the money will all go to the list of research groups below.”

  He folded up the letter. “There’s more, but it’s all legalese. When your mother signed the Power of Attorney, your father’s lawyers notified me.” His eyes studied her and she was amazed that he remained calm in the face of her violent hostility.

  “Why?” Why hadn’t she been notified? How was she going to pay for her mother’s surgeries if the money was cut off?

  “My research company is first on the list.” His gaze was steady, almost compassionate. “Rather than be a part of cutting you off, I thought I’d see if you would lead me on an expedition.” It wasn’t a plea or a demand. His tone was even, matter of fact and emotionless. “The lawyers were interested in avoiding a legal entanglement.”

  There was no fucking way. She gritted her teeth. “I’m not going.”

  “You’re a cartographer. You know the areas I need to research like the back of your hand. I need you to come with me.”

  She lowered the gun and she backed into the cabin. She started to swing the door shut and shook her head. “No.”

  A large hand slapped on the door holding it open and her heart jumped into her throat. Didn’t he understand she had a gun? Okay, so the only thing she’d killed lately was a satellite dish, but he couldn’t know that. The man should have looked stupid, with raindrops dripping from his hair, but he didn’t. “I don’t know what happened between you and your father but this is about more than just you. Give me five minutes and I’ll make my case. If you still don’t want to go, I’ll leave you alone.”

  Inside her head, she screamed. If it ever escaped, it would scare the shit out of everyone within hearing, but she held it in. Her throat hurt from holding it back. She didn’t want to go. Her father wasted his life searching for Bigfoot. Going on this harebrained adventure would only bring the past forward from the dark places she shoved it.

  “You’ve been hiding out for two years. Don’t you think it’s time you started living again?” His question ripped through her. Hiding? He was out of his mind.

  Her chin raised and she glared at him. “I have a life. Just because I don’t live in a cracker box surrounded by people doesn’t mean I’ve been hiding.” Or that was she still dancing to the tune her father played. She squashed that thought like a bug.

  The man inched closer and she caught the scent of rain and pine wafting from him. “You’ve been hiding.”

  Her hand gripped the door and started to shut it in his face. This time, he used his shoulder to stop the door and his hand grasped her chin. Shock rippled along her nerves and she flinched at his touch. His fingers were warm and firm. Her skin tingled, but no one touched her. Ever.

  Her hand gripped the barrel of the gun. “Don’t touch me.” She wanted to jam it into his stomach and pull the trigger. Not because he invaded her physical space, but because he seemed to see through her façade, her mask she presented. Instead, she froze.

  The fingers on her face softened and his gaze mesmerized her. Adrenaline shot through her veins, not from fear but from something else, something frightening and seductive in his touch. Instead of shooting him, she trembled. He released her chin but invisible chains held her captive.

  He blinked twice and then he frowned. His voice was low as he said, “Give me the five minutes.”

  Unwanted tears threatened. There was no way that Kiera was going to cry in front of this pushy jerk. Why did he have to show up now, when she was at her lowest point? He didn’t know her.

  “I am not going to hunt for Bigfoot.” She clenched her teeth as he nodded.

  “It’s clear your father hurt you.” He shrugged. “I’m not exactly one to discuss parental approval but I will say your father has put you over a barrel.” His lips thinned. “Rather than help him do it, I’d rather help you.”

  Suspicion made her eyes narrow. She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. “Why?” His eyebrows shot up as if she had missed something obvious. His expression made her grind her teeth. At this rate, there wouldn’t be anything left of them. “You don’t have your father’s…flair for the dramatic. I think that makes you a better guide for a trip like this.”

  “You mean, I won’t steal your thunder,” she quipped.

  He grimaced. “I don’t really enjoy media frenzies. I presume you don’t either. If you lead the expedition, the addendum is null and void.”

  In his gaze, she noted determination, understanding, and something else. Her resistance wavered, and her eyes dropped. Perhaps she was so desperate for someone, anyone, to show compassion she allowed the wall to crumble a little.

  “You might as well come in.” She hated backing down, even a little bit. The fight wasn’t over but she only had so much energy. He wasn’t g
oing to go away. He would keep coming back until she gave in. Just like her father, he was a legend hunter.

  He nodded briefly and stepped into her home. All she could think was that the Trojan Horse had just entered her sanctuary. The war had just begun. It just didn’t involve bullets.

  As she placed the shotgun on a rack above her fireplace, he sat down on her couch. She crossed her arms and stood in front of the river stone mantel. He had five minutes and then she was going to kick his ass out. “Five minutes. The clock’s ticking.”

  “I’ve written three books, and they’ve all involved the paranormal.”

  “Good for you.” She snapped at him. Like she didn’t know that. Arrogant bastard.

  His stare didn’t waver. “This will take longer than five minutes if you keep interrupting.”

  She took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. Again.

  “I’ve got a proposal in to a publisher for this book about Bigfoot.”

  Her lips twisted in disgust. “And now that there’s a rash of new sightings and a media circus, you’re going to write a book about it.”

  His gaze held hers and her eyes shifted. As he folded his large hands in his lap, she noted they were large and capable with rough calluses. His voice was calm, almost soothing. “Bigfoot is a phenomenon I’ve been interested in for a long time. But yes, the recent sightings did encourage me to come here.”

  “I’m not going to help you whip this area into a frenzy.” She bit the words out one by one. “It’s destructive and dangerous. Amateurs go into the forest to find a monster and some of them get hurt.” Like Nanette’s father.

  “I’m not an amateur.” His voice was quiet.

  “No, you’re worse. You think this is a research project, a little jaunt into the woods, a good book.” She sneered. “But you forget that some of us have to live here when you’re gone.”

  “Bigfoot has given this area tourist dollars.” He pointed out.

  “As long as Bigfoot is a harmless legend. But people like you make it into a circus and make a quick buck while you do it.”

  “I don’t need the money, but you do.”

  Her blood boiled over and, for the first time in her life, she thought she might kill another human being. Her fists clenched. “Oh, I do?” She bit the words out.

  He nodded. “You do. For your mother.”

  She strode over and opened the door. “Your time is up. Get out.” He sat there so calm, she wanted to strangle him.

  “Your mother has cancer and you can’t afford the hospital bills. Davis isn’t cheap, is it?” He didn’t turn his head to look at her, but he spoke gently.

  She couldn’t take gentle. As quickly as the anger built inside her, it collapsed in the face of his soft voice. Her insides shook and she was a little queasy.

  “Your mother isn’t insured and the treatment for your mother must be very expensive. I’ve checked. You’re almost out of money. That’s why you’re here and not there, with her. You need more than the five hundred thousand your father left in the trust. I can provide it. I’m willing to contribute another five hundred thousand along with the money your father had if you’ll guide me into the Trinity Mountains.”

  She could barely breathe. She wanted to cry. No way. What right did he have to blackmail her into this? And it was blackmail. Anger gave her voice sound. “You must be selling well.” She taunted him. “You don’t need me. Get. Out.”

  He didn’t move. She glared at him. “I haven’t touched a penny of my father’s legacy.” She spat the last word out. “What makes you think I’ll take money now?”

  “Because your mother needs more than the thirty thousand dollars a year he left her. Money you can’t access unless you go with me.” The man’s voice was quiet. She opened her mouth and shut it with a snap. He met her panicked gaze and continued. “There’s more. You can approve anything I write. It doesn’t go to print without your final say. I know that you think the Bigfoot phenomenon is a fraud. If that’s what we find, that’s what I’ll write.”

  None of it made sense. He had to know she’d reject anything he’d write. She’d do anything to squash the intense interest in Bigfoot his book would produce. She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  He leaned forward. “Close the door and sit down. I can try and explain it.”

  Her legs were rubbery as she collapsed in a chair. Her mind whirled. She’d held a gun on him, insulted him, and he sat there as if she was a petulant child having a temper tantrum.

  He folded his hands and held her gaze. “Your father’s photograph has created a lot of stir in the scientific community. I’m not going to prove or disprove it. All I want to do is study the evidence and see if I—we—can find out what’s really out there. If you’re familiar with my writing, you’ll know that I’m not trying to create a sensation. I only publish facts I can prove.”

  “They’ve been searching for Bigfoot for over a hundred years. What makes you think that you’ll find anything they haven’t found?”

  He smiled for the first time and Kiera’s heart raced a little faster. “I’ll have you.”

  Chapter Two

  Her eyes were stuck together when Kiera woke up early the next morning. She rolled out of bed and shuffled to the coffee pot. Her thick wool socks rasped along the rough wood floors, and her jaw cracked as she yawned. Last night had been brutal.

  After Ben Harmon left, she broke down and cried. She never cried. Well, hardly ever. But now, she had the inevitable emotional hangover. Her head pounded and her hand trembled as she reached for some pain reliever. The pills slid down her dry, sore throat and she followed them with hot, scalding coffee. The palms of her hands pressed into her puffy eyes relieved the throbbing a little, but not much. She felt like road kill. And it hadn’t helped. There was no relief.

  It hadn’t made her mother’s cervical cancer disappear, or the doctor’s bills or the pain of watching her mother die step by excruciating step. With a Power of Attorney, she’d been cleaning up her mother’s financial business. It had been a mess since her mother had been sick. It was much worse now that her father left that letter.

  The bastard.

  The sun streamed through the window and stung her eyes. Thoughts she’d kept suppressed floated to the surface. She tried to squash them, purge them, but it was no use. Until yesterday, she’d kept the past regulated in the past where it belonged. Hadn’t she?

  The rain had cleared and the blue sky sparkled behind the tops of the trees. Kiera stepped out onto her porch and took a deep breath. It was that time of year. Adventures with her father always began on a day like this. The wild flowers were in bloom. The Queen Anne’s Lace dotted the yard, and the wind was gentle on her face. Her eyes studied the small shed on the side of the house. Her father’s shed, his sanctuary, when he’d been alive. Two years and she still hadn’t set foot inside that shed.

  Staring into her cup of coffee, Kiera’s mind buzzed like angry bees. Damn Benjamin Harmon. Just the sight of him meant an adventure, a puzzle, like when she was a kid. He showed up and reminded her there had been other times, moments when she and her father hadn’t been adversaries.

  Once, she’d been Daddy’s little girl, in spite of the drinking. He told stories, she listened enthralled. He showed her scraps of evidence, she absorbed it. She’d gone with him on every trip, every adventure, faithfully documenting all of the findings her father directed her to record. She’d drawn wood piles that her father insisted were Bigfoot huts and footprints her father measured and recorded. In those days, they’d been a team, inseparable. She snorted. All that shit he told her had been a lie. And when she found out, it destroyed her. Right at the moment she had something useful, something concrete, her father betrayed everything he ever taught her.

  *

  She’d found it! Kiera raced across the thick brush under the tall evergreens, easily negotiating the branches and ferns. Her long, blonde hair whipped behind her and her thin hand clutched the new information she’d discovere
d. Excited, her breath labored in her chest and her muscles screamed from her five mile trek from town.

  But she knew it was right, and her father would pack them up, his blue eyes sparkling and his voice sharp with anticipation. As she burst into the clearing where her home lay, the sunshine streamed through the trees and warmed her already heated face.

  The shed door was closed, but Kiera knew that’s where he was. Where else would he be on a Saturday morning?

  “Daddy! Daddy!” Her thin, reedy voice echoed among the branches. She flung open the shed door and saw him.

  The first thing to hit her was the familiar smell of alcohol. That stale, sickening smell overwhelmed her senses and her nose wrinkled. Then, the smell of developing fluid wafted over her.

  “Close the door!” Her father shouted at her from behind a black curtain he had hung to block light from the doorway.

  “But Dad—” she started.

  “In or out, but close that damn door!” He poked his head around the cloth and glared at her with blood shot eyes.

  She crossed the threshold and pulled the door shut behind her. He dipped and fiddled with a picture, an action she’d seen him do a million times. Pictures of broken twigs, footprints, and large, crude structures made of sticks and branches all hung from clothes pins on a string.

  She wondered what he was doing now. For fifteen minutes she watched him in silence and even at thirteen years old, she knew what her father was doing. She stared at his familiar face and it was carved in granite. Drink had flushed his cheeks and made his hands tremble. His normally warm blue eyes were cold and determined.

  When the fifteen minutes were over, he held up the finished product as if it wasn’t a betrayal. As if it he hadn’t just destroyed the trust and respect of his thirteen year old daughter.

  She forgot about the library information she’d copied. She forgot to tell him why she’d run almost five miles to find him. What did it matter now anyway?

  *

  She shook her head. There was no point in going over it again. Despite his offer, Ben Harmon was just like her father. And she wasn’t going there again.