“I don’t know about that.” I pulled out my phone, laid a dollar bill by the footprint, and took another picture. I’d done the same thing for the first footprint I’d found.
“What are you doing?” Nate asked.
“Documenting this, of course.”
“Why?”
“Why wouldn’t I? If this is Bigfoot, we have some evidence. If not, then at least we have something so we can compare notes. We should take a cast of this also. I have some material in my car.”
“You brought stuff to cast Bigfoot’s footprints?” Nate sounded uber impressed.
I tilted my head, wondering if he was for real. “No, I brought it because police departments across the country use it for casting footprints at crime scenes. I teach classes on how to use it.”
“Excellent. It’s a good thing you’re here, I guess.”
“I guess.” I took a couple more photos with my phone.
“Chad told me about your history as an investigator,” Nate said. “Impressive, senorita—and that wasn’t a come on.”
I put my phone away and scowled. “I get it.”
“Who said science geeks couldn’t be hot?” he continued. Seriously—he was like a clueless puppy dog who didn’t know when to stop. He froze and added, “That totally wasn’t an insult.”
“Of course, it wasn’t.”
He laughed. “I’m glad you’re such a good sport, Gabby. All right, Chad, I’ll let you take over from here. I actually have today off. What would you like for me to do?”
“We’re going to start working on the cabins in Area 51,” Chad said. “I’m hoping to have those finished in a couple of days. They were in the best shape. Gabby, you want to wrap up here and then join us?”
“I’ll stay with her, just to be on the safe side,” Riley said.
“You don’t have to do that,” I insisted. It was an awfully sweet offer, though.
Riley gave me a “really?” look. He was already getting the shadow of a beard across his cheeks and chin. It was a good look, one that I could live with—as long as it didn’t get Nate the Great long.
Nate had ruined me for beards, and I’d never associate them with anything positive ever again.
“After everything that’s happened around here lately?” Riley said. “I think I do need to go with you. I’d rather play it safe.”
I smiled, happy to have him here. I always felt better when he was close by.
I suppose that Chad wasn’t the only one whose thoughts were all over the place. One minute, I was sure I wanted to be with Riley. The next I feared obstacles to our happiness—before those obstacles even materialized.
I sighed. Life could be like a rollercoaster and, at the moment, I really preferred a quiet train ride through the countryside. I longed for it. I was fighting desperately to turn my thoughts around, but it was so difficult sometimes. If I could just play it safe—and not take any chances—for a little while, then maybe my heart could recover, and my actions could match.
Dear Lord, I’m a royal mess. Satan has come in to remind me of every disappointment. He’s rubbing them in my face. Flaunting them. And, as a result, my faith is taking a beating. With Your help, I’m going to do better. I am.
“By the way, could you forward me copies of those photos? I’d like to document this, as well,” Nate said.
I shrugged, thinking it was weird. But Nate was kind of weird, so whatever. “Sure thing.”
As the rest of the gang scampered away, I pulled out some of my supplies from my car. Riley took them from me and carried them back to the spot of the footprint.
“Just put them there for a moment,” I told him. “I want to check out something else first.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I want to see if I can find any more footprints. I’m also curious about this stream. I seriously think that whatever we saw last night stepped over it in only three paces. Is it possible for a human to do that?”
Riley shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”
We followed a path toward the stream. There were a few other partial footprints there, but the best two were by the cabin, for sure.
When we reached the stream, we both stopped and stared at it for a moment. The water was beautiful as it tripped and fell, as it scampered and scurried. Smooth river rocks playfully blocked the water’s path, but the stream didn’t seem to mind and it easily played along.
“Shall I?” Riley said. “Since my legs are longer? You said three steps, right?”
I nodded.
“Let’s see if we can do this then.”
Riley took his longest step and landed entirely short of being midstream. He took another step, and then another and another. He was six foot three, and he hadn’t been able to make it.
My heart raced. What if I really had seen Bigfoot? No. Now I was thinking crazy.
Riley bounded back over to me. The bottoms of his jeans were wet, as were his boots. But he didn’t seem to mind. He simply shook his legs to get any excess water off and turned to face me, his breath coming out in a frosty steam. “I have to admit, I have trouble imagining someone making it in three steps.”
I frowned. “Me too. My best bet for getting some real answers is that footprint, I guess.”
As we started back through the thin patch of woods, I paused by a low-lying pine tree. Something snagged on one of the limbs had caught my eye.
“What is it?” Riley peered closer.
“I can’t be sure, but I think this is some fur from our late-night visitor. It’s too high to have come from a deer. I suppose it could be a bear, but I’d like to know something definitive.”
Riley leaned closer to examine it. “The evidence does keep mounting, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely.” I pulled out my phone and took more pictures. “Let me document the scene first. Then I’m going to take a sample. We’ll find out exactly what was out here last night. The evidence doesn’t lie, right?”
“You sound so charming when you talk like that, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” I grinned and winked at him. “I’m just getting started.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
M y assignment for the day was to work on the floors in Area 51. Chad apparently thought floors were my specialty, and I didn’t bother to mention to him that getting blood out of carpet was more my area of expertise. Either way, I had a job to do.
Chad had driven all the equipment up to those cabins. I thought about driving also, but Riley and I decided to walk instead. Maybe that was a stupid choice, but it was daylight outside. The fresh air and exercise sounded good.
When we reached the Bermuda Triangle, I spotted a familiar face ahead.
Just the person I hoped I would run into again. Bill Brunke. He seemed to be in the know and more than willing to talk. Plus, he and his brothers made me smile, adding some humor to an otherwise frightening trip.
I waved hello and introduced Riley to the Brilliant Brunke Brothers. They were all working hard to freshen up the flowerbeds in the area. All of the garbage had been hauled away, new cement had been poured, and the paths had been edged.
Bill stopped spreading mulch in the flowerbeds long enough to nod. “Gabby.”
I stared at the grounds around the Triangle. They’d been working hard to clear everything. “This looks a million times better than it did just a couple of days ago.”
“Thanks. Not to toot my own horn, but my brothers and I are the best in the area.” He shifted, leaning on his garden rake. “I heard you had some excitement around here last night.”
I shifted to get the sun out of my eyes and get a better read on the man. “You heard? Already?”
He nodded. “Nate stopped and showed us the pictures of Bigfoot’s footprint.”
Wasn’t that interesting? Why would Nate do that exactly? I would think he’d want to stay quiet about it, rather than risk bad publicity.
“We’re trying to get to the bottom of it,” I finally said. As so
on as I had the chance to slip away today, I was going to deliver my evidence to a crime lab guy I knew out in Blacksburg, Virginia. I’d met him through my work at Grayson Tech, and I felt sure he would help me. I didn’t trust sticking anything in the mail.
“I can’t wait to hear what you find out. Maybe you could clear up some of our local mysteries that folks have talked about for years around here. That might make you a local celebrity of sorts.”
“I’m not too concerned with being a celebrity, but I’ll see what I can do.” I turned again, the sun right behind Bill’s head. Looking at him was giving me a headache. “Listen, you were telling me the other day about the money that mysteriously appeared in Henry’s account. Do you know if the police ever found any evidence as to where it came from?”
He shrugged. “Apparently it was a cash deposit. That’s what I heard, at least. No one knows who gave him the money. Not Henry’s parents. Not even his girlfriend.”
My internal radar went up. This was the first I’d heard about a girlfriend. “Is this girlfriend still alive? In this area?”
Bill nodded, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping a line of sweat from his forehead. “Debby? Yeah, she’ll never leave. She loves it here. She’s up in Whitehurst still.”
Debby. I stored her name away in the back of my mind. It could be handy to talk to her sometime. “What’s Debby’s last name?”
“Stephens.”
“Debby Stephens?” I questioned, surprise rushing through me. “Is she related to Scotty?”
Bill smiled, displaying his bright white dentures—a quality he shared with the rest of his brothers. “As a matter of fact, she is. She married his son, Junior.”
* * *
“Hey, Gabby!” Chad called as I crested the hill with Riley a few minutes later. “I have a new job for you, if you’re up for the task.”
“I’m up for anything.” Saying that was my first mistake. “But I thought I was your floor girl.”
“Huh?”
I shook my head. “What about the cabins?”
“Nate wants us to clean up the funhouse. He thinks it’s safe enough and that people will get a kick out of seeing the inside. You want to do an evaluation and let me know what’s needed? I’m pretty sure all of this was Clarice’s idea—he thinks she walks on water. So does she. Anyway, I’m not the one calling the shots.”
Clowns. There had been clowns near the funhouse. Were there clowns inside also? I didn’t want to appear to be a wimp, but I was edging closer and closer to that distinction. There was just something about this place . . .
“I’d be happy to do an evaluation,” I finally said.
“Great. Riley, why don’t you help? You know where it is, right? The Bermuda Triangle.”
“What am I looking for exactly?”
“How stable it is. If there are any safety hazards. General improvements we can make while still keeping the rustic, vintage funhouse feel. You know the drill.”
At the word “drill,” I immediately thought about a clown. With a drill. Chasing me.
I had to get a grip here.
“Oh, and Braxton is still working on the electricity. I’m not sure if it’s working there or not,” Chad added.
“Even better.” With my luck, a mysterious TV would pop on again.
Riley gripped my hand as we walked the rest of the way up the hill. We reached the Bermuda Triangle, and I paused a moment to stare at the lopsided building in front of me. Deceptively cheerful signs hung outside the door, all painted with letters that had once been colorful and inviting. A warning on the front door said “Point of No Return.” That didn’t make me feel any better.
“Here we are,” I muttered, my feet remaining planted.
I really wanted to continue thinking about the fact that Henry’s ex-girlfriend had eventually married Scotty Stephens Jr., but I wouldn’t have time for that at the moment. Right now, I had to conquer a fear. A clown fear.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Riley looked down at me with those warm, brown eyes that I loved so much.
“It’s an old funhouse. What could go wrong?” I gulped as the words left my mouth. So much could go wrong!
He stared at me another moment before eventually nodding. “Okay. Good for you. I thought you’d be more freaked, especially given your earlier reaction to clowns.”
“I was just taken off guard before. You know how that goes sometimes. Clowns . . . coming out of nowhere . . . staring at you like maniacal killers.”
“You’re kind of cute when you’re freaked out.” He chuckled and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re so tough.”
If only. I pulled out the clipboard Chad had handed me. “Let’s go see what’s inside and take some notes. It’s just another day at Mythical Falls, right?”
“Just another day.”
I sang a few lines from “Nightmare on My Street.” Some of the songs I used to listen to were flashbacks to my childhood, and that song was no different.
Riley laughed. “It’s not often I hear you rap.”
“Be thankful. Be very thankful.”
I pushed open a decrepit-looking door at the entryway. The first thing I reached for once I was inside was the light switch. Unfortunately, the electricity hadn’t been turned on in this building yet. Awesome. I guessed that meant we’d be exploring it in the dark.
I pulled a flashlight out of my bag instead. As my beam hit something in the distance, a small gasp escaped from my lips. I backed up, right into Riley.
“It’s just a dummy,” Riley whispered, appearing at my side.
He followed my gaze to the clown in front of me. One of the figure’s eyes had popped out—but not completely. Instead, it rested on his cheek. The red paint around his mouth was smeared. His shirt was torn open, like someone had tried to wrestle with him.
This was the stuff of nightmares.
My mental soundtrack continued to play “Nightmare on my Street.”
I shrugged it off and took another step toward the entrance, gripping my clipboard like it was a shield. “Here goes nothing.”
I walked toward a maze of mirrors in front of me. As soon as I passed the first one, a terrible sound thundered above me. My skin crawled at the cackling, mocking laugh.
“It’s just a soundtrack,” Riley said.
“How is it possible that the lights don’t work but some soundtrack from twenty years ago does?” I muttered.
“This place definitely has the creep factor going on.” Riley craned his neck to look around.
“Yeah, it’s real . . . fun.” Why would anyone come to this place for pure enjoyment? I had no idea.
Riley squeezed my hand. “We’ve got this.”
“Promise me you’ll stay close by.”
“I won’t leave your side.”
His words made my cheeks flush. He meant it, didn’t he? Not just at this moment but forever. Or was I hoping for too much?
With that assurance, I took another step. How was it that crime scenes didn’t affect me that much anymore, but put me in an old funhouse surrounded by clowns and I fell apart? I was sure there was a great psychological analysis in there somewhere. I didn’t have time to dive in now, though.
“We’re going to need to replace three of these mirrors.” I shone my flashlight on them. The reflective surfaces covered every available wall within eyesight. “They’re broken. Definitely a safety hazard.”
“My advice to Nate: Burn this building down. The whole thing is one big safety hazard.” Riley shook his head. “I’m not sure Clarice’s advice is the best—not that she doesn’t have some great ideas.”
“Tell me about it.” I took another step and banged my head on a mirror. I groaned and rubbed the sore spot on my forehead. “These mirror mind tricks really work.”
Riley grinned. “They sure do. You want me to lead?”
Honestly, I did want him to lead. But I wouldn’t allow myself to say yes. How many times did I have to remind myself that I
was a professional? CSIs didn’t get scared . . . right?
“I’m all good. Let’s keep moving.” I shined my light on the floor. It was carpeted at one time, but now dust, litter, and feces covered it. “There’s also a spot right here that feels soft. We should replace that as well. It’s even starting to buckle some.”
“Noted.”
I reached a hand out in front of me, determined not to embarrass myself again by walking into another mirror. But, I was disoriented now after looking at the floor. Whatever direction I turned looked the same.
Riley squeezed my shoulder again. “I’ve never seen you like this before, Gabby.”
“This is really messing with my mind.” Just as life had messed with my perception of the future. Wasn’t it just peachy that this was the time I’d chosen to get deeply analytical about my fears and failures?
“This is a different side of you.”
“A weak side,” I muttered. I always tried to hide these parts of me, even from the people who knew me best. Strength was admired, as was courage in adversity and wisdom in difficult times. You know what wasn’t admired? Succumbing to fears.
“It makes you seem more human.”
“Need I remind you of all the other times I’ve seemed human? I have a whole list of mistakes I’ve made that will show anyone and everyone just how fallible I am.”
He kissed the back of my head. “We’ve all got those, Gabby. You know mine all too well.”
At least he had a good excuse for his—most had occurred while he was in physical rehab after being shot in the head. Mine were just second nature to me.
I came to a stop as the mirror maze ended. My heart slowed for a moment. Whew. We’d made it through the first obstacle.
The cackling clown laughter in the overhead hadn’t helped my nerves, but I supposed for most people that was part of the fun. Scares within a controlled environment, similar to scary movies. Only, at the moment, nothing about this seemed controlled.
I shone my light around the walls, trying to figure out where to go next. “Stairs? We have to go upstairs?”
Thrill Squeaker: A Squeaky Clean Mystery (Squeaky Clean Mysteries Book 11) Page 11
