The body. I’d almost forgotten we were in Hemlock Cove to investigate a murder – or potential Dog Man attack. It could honestly go either way, and that’s what made this first case so magical. “Is it wrong that I’m excited?” I asked finally, feeling rather guilty.
“Not at all,” Millie answered, taking me by surprise with her wakefulness. I thought she was completely out. “Someone remind me to get a combat helmet when we have a chance to shop later. I totally liked that woman’s style.”
Chris snorted. “You never cease to amaze me, Millie. That’s why you’re my favorite aunt.”
“Right back at you, kid.” Millie smoothed her hair as she straightened. “Now, let’s find Bigfoot. I’m dying to ask who does his hair.”
I HOPPED out of the Tahoe and groaned as I stretched my legs. The nearest airport was a little more than an hour away. By the time we disembarked, loaded the vehicles with supplies and then drove to Hemlock Cove, my legs and back felt stiff and sore.
The lighthouse – known in all the reading material as the Dandridge – was easy to find. A group of people stood talking in front of the picturesque building as we gathered our group. I took a moment to study the new faces, noticing the odd configuration of three men and one woman. The chief of police was easy enough to pick out because of his uniform, but the two men standing beside him were harder to gauge.
One man had dark hair and eyes. He stood with his arm protectively around a short woman with long dark hair. She looked upset as she spoke to the police chief. The dark-haired man was obviously trying to console her. So was the police chief, for that matter. He rested his hand on her shoulder a few times as she spoke, but I was fairly certain she was crying.
“I bet she found the body,” I murmured. I was mostly talking to myself, but because Jack exited the Tahoe on the same side as me he heard the words.
“She does look upset.” Jack narrowed his eyes. “My understanding is that a couple of people live in the lighthouse. I suggested we camp there when I talked to the chief, but he shot that down quickly.”
“You wanted to camp in the lighthouse?” I was mildly impressed with Jack’s suggestion … and willingness to isolate himself in the face of danger. “That would’ve kept us closer to the scene. It’s too bad that’s not possible.”
“Hannah and Laura prefer hotel rooms,” Jack supplied. “They’re not big on camping – especially Laura – so we would’ve had rooms to shower and rest in regardless. We’ll play it by ear and figure it out.”
“What about the other guy?” I asked, my eyes zeroing in on the man who stood out in the small crowd. He was tall, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. He looked as if he and not the chief was in charge, yet he had long hair, almost as long as Jack’s, and wore street clothes. “He doesn’t look like a cop.”
“He’s not,” Jack said, following my gaze. “He’s FBI.”
“You know him?”
Jack shook his head. “He has the certain look. And the police chief told me they had a Fed dedicated to the area on the way.”
“How can he be a Fed with long hair like that?”
Jack shrugged. “Some people just like long hair.” He offered me a half-hearted wink as my cheeks burned. “Some women like it, too.” He turned his attention from me and met Chris’ gaze across the hood of the Tahoe. “Let’s introduce ourselves.”
The foursome studied us with unveiled interest as we approached. I plastered a wide smile on my face and locked gazes with the woman first to take the edge off my nervousness. She seemed friendly, perhaps a little scattered. I opened my mouth to greet her, but the men took control of the situation before I could.
“I’m Chris Biggs. We’re with the Legacy Foundation. This is Jack Hanson. I believe you talked to him on the phone?”
“Yeah, I did. I’m Terry Davenport. I’m the chief of police here in Hemlock Cove.” The chief shook hands with Chris and Jack, offering Millie and me a stiff nod before turning to his comrades. “This is Landon Michaels. He’s with the FBI. This is Sam Cornell and Clove Winchester. They live in the Dandridge.”
Everyone exchanged handshakes and head bobs by way of greeting, and I found my attention bouncing between the FBI agent and the small woman standing between him and Sam Cornell.
“Did you find the body?” I asked the question before I considered the intelligence associated with uttering it.
Clove – she honestly looked like a Clove, which was weird – nodded. “I did. I was taking a walk to see if part of the path needed to be re-graveled – we’ve been working on making this a haunted attraction for a bit – and that’s when I found it.”
“She called me,” Sam added. “I came out to see and … well … that’s when I called Chief Terry.”
“Do you know if the victim is a man or a woman?” Jack asked, all business.
“It’s a woman,” Landon answered. “We had to move her to the morgue. I know you wanted to see the entire scene as it was, but we couldn’t risk scavengers or inclement weather. There’s a potential storm blowing through tonight. We took photos, though.”
“I’m still confused as to what you do,” the chief admitted, rubbing his chin. “Landon suggested I call you when we found a strange set of animal tracks – he said you might be able to help us – but I haven’t been able to do much research on you because you don’t have a website.”
“That’s by design,” Chris offered. “We like to keep our operation out of the headlines. It’s not about getting accolades or media attention. We simply like finding the truth.”
“And that’s what you’re doing here?” the chief pressed. “You’re looking for the truth?”
“That’s the one thing we care about most of all,” Chris replied. “As for the body, I understand. I can send Hannah to the medical examiner’s office. She’s used to cutting through government red tape.”
“Perhaps you could share her with my office once she’s done,” Landon, the FBI agent, joked, his eyes heavy-lidded as he maintained control of the converging factions. “I hate red tape.”
“She’s perfectly happy with our group,” Chris replied primly, his tone taking me by surprise. Laura and Hannah remained in the Dandridge parking lot, yet Chris acted as if the FBI agent was hitting on her in front of him.
“I was just … never mind.” Landon shook his head and exchanged a quick look with the chief. “I can take you to the scene and show you around. If you have people who want to go to the medical examiner’s office Chief Terry can handle transportation and directions.”
“Sounds great,” Jack said, smiling. “Also, when we leave, I was hoping one of you could point me in the right direction. I can’t seem to find the inn we’re staying at on the map. I don’t want to risk getting lost.”
“What inn?” Landon asked.
“Umm … The Overlook.”
I didn’t miss the quick look Landon and the chief exchanged as Clove widened her eyes.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, legitimately curious.
“Nothing is wrong,” Landon replied after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s actually convenient that you’ll be at The Overlook.”
“Why is that?” Chris asked, his eyes narrow.
“I live on the grounds with my girlfriend,” Landon replied. “Her family owns the inn.”
“They’re my family, too,” Clove pointed out.
“I could never forget that.” Landon flashed her a saccharine smile. “Well, let’s get this train moving. You’ll want to survey the scene and then get settled in your room. If you’re late for dinner, you’ll go hungry.”
Chris balked. “They won’t feed us if we’re late for dinner? That doesn’t sound like a very good inn.”
“It’s the best inn around these parts,” the chief supplied. “It’s the best food you’ll ever eat, in fact. The women who run it simply don’t like people being late.”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to work around the rules.” Chris forced a smile. “Um, how about I
send Laura and Hannah to the medical examiner’s office with you, Chief Davenport? The rest of us will check out the scene of the attack.”
“That sounds fine.” The chief moved to walk toward the parking lot, but slowed when Sam offered a quick word of advice.
“Good luck at The Overlook. You’re going to need it.”
“You’re so not funny,” Clove complained, flicking his ear. “I’m going to tell Aunt Tillie you said that.”
I had no idea who Aunt Tillie was, but Sam looked positively apoplectic at the threat.
“I take it back.”
Hmm. Hemlock Cove was going to prove even more interesting than I originally thought. I could already feel it.
3
Three
“So people actually live out here?”
I cast a glance over my shoulder as I followed Chris, Jack and the FBI agent into the thick forest. Clove and her boyfriend went inside the lighthouse, their heads bent together as they whispered to each other and left us to our exploration. I couldn’t dislodge the shaken look on Clove’s face from my mind, the expression almost traumatic.
“Sam and Clove do,” Landon replied. “Sam bought the Dandridge about a year ago or so. Clove moved in with him a few months ago.”
“It must be cool to live in a lighthouse.”
Landon shrugged. “Clove seems to like it.”
“Do you know her well?”
If Landon was put off by my questions he didn’t show it. “My girlfriend and Clove are cousins, although they’re more like sisters. They lived together – actually, with another cousin, too – until recently. Now I live in the guesthouse with Bay, and Thistle lives in town with her boyfriend Marcus.”
“Bay, Clove and Thistle?” Jack didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Someone had a sense of humor.”
“Their mothers are … unique.” Landon didn’t sound disparaging when he said the word. He looked almost wistful. “You’ll find that out when you check into the inn.”
“And will you be there?” I had no idea why I found him so fascinating – perhaps it was the smile that curved his lips when he talked about his girlfriend and he thought no one was looking – but I couldn’t stop myself from staring.
“I’ll be at the guesthouse,” Landon replied. “It’s on the property. We eat dinner there quite often, and I’m sure tonight will be no different.”
“Like a family thing?” Chris asked. “That must be nice.”
“It’s nice to be around a family.” Landon appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “Even when they’re eccentric, they’re still family.”
There it was – the odd expression that he kept trying to hide. I couldn’t figure out his deal. His girlfriend or her family members clearly didn’t embarrass him, yet there was something about them he found amusing. I was almost positive he was looking forward to us meeting the women, although why was anyone’s guess.
“Are they witches?” I blurted out the question before I thought better of it.
Landon looked taken aback by my bluntness. “I’m sorry?”
“I think everyone in town is supposed to be a witch,” Jack supplied. “You’ll have to forgive Charlie. She’s new to the game – this is her first case. She was fascinated when I told her about Hemlock Cove being a town for witches.”
“Oh, that.” Landon visibly relaxed. “They’re all witches. Everyone in Hemlock Cove will claim some form of paranormal identity.”
“Because that’s part of their tourist shtick?” Chris asked.
“Yeah. I was a little thrown by it at first, but … I’m used to it now. The town wouldn’t be what it is if they didn’t have the witch theme going on.”
“Fun.” Jack slid a thoughtful gaze in my direction before returning his attention to Landon. “So you live here? There’s no FBI office in this town. It’s not big enough.”
“My office is in Traverse City. I used to have an apartment there,” Landon replied. “I get special dispensation because I’m mostly on the road – and often in Hemlock Cove – so I’m allowed to break the rules and live here thanks to some added effort by my boss.”
“And you did that for your girlfriend?” I was impressed that he not only put in the request but also didn’t seem embarrassed to admit it.
Landon’s smile was enigmatic. “I did that for myself. The scene is over here.”
Landon stood several feet from the area, which was cordoned off with yellow tape, and crossed his arms over his chest as Chris and Jack moved closer to the scene. There was a dark stain on the ground, and it took me a moment to realize it was blood.
“How was she killed?” Jack asked, straightening.
“Her throat was … missing,” Landon replied, grimacing. “That’s the best way I can describe it.”
“Meaning you think an animal ripped out her throat?” Chris asked, utilizing the expensive camera around his neck to snap photographs. “What kind of indigenous animals do you have here?”
“We have some bears, coyotes and the like,” Landon answered. “We’ve never seen an aggressive bear in this area to my knowledge. Coyotes aren’t big enough to do what was done to this victim – and we don’t have an identity yet. We’re waiting on the medical examiner for that. Then there’s … that.” Landon pointed toward an odd print on the ground closest to Jack’s foot. “We don’t know what that is.”
“Look at that.” Chris was excited as he used his hip to clear me out of the way so he could have a clear shot of the print. “This is clearly not a coyote print.”
“Or a bear,” Jack added, pursing his lips as he locked gazes with Landon. “You’ve been careful not to say too much, but your office contacted us.”
“I didn’t contact you,” Landon clarified. “That was my boss. He seems to have some relationship with a guy named Myron Biggs.”
“That’s my uncle,” Chris supplied. “I think they went to the same high school.”
“I have no idea about any of that.” Landon’s stance was firm. Even though Chris was technically in charge, it was clear he had more respect for Jack. I couldn’t figure out why – Chris was an amiable guy, after all – unless it was because they both had long hair and tough guy demeanors. “My boss suggested calling you in to utilize your expertise. Chief Terry and I will still handle the investigation. You can track down non-essential leads and focus on the animal aspect as much as you want.”
“But you’re not happy we’re here,” Jack prodded.
“I don’t care either way,” Landon clarified. “This place is my home. Something killed that woman. I don’t know if it was an animal or a human, but I plan to find out. I love a lot of people in this town, and I don’t want them being left at the mercy of a madman … or a mad beast, for that matter.” He seemed calm as he said the words, but I didn’t miss the fervency in his eyes.
“What do you think it was?” I asked.
Landon shrugged, holding his hand palms up. “I don’t know what it was. I know that I don’t want it to happen again. So I’m here to offer you whatever help you need. I will be following up my own avenues of investigation, though, so I will not be at your service for the majority of your stay.”
“Sounds more than fair,” Jack said, cracking his large knuckles. “We need to get casts of the prints, Chris. Then we need to look around.”
Chris snapped three more photos in rapid succession. “I’m on it. This could be it, Jack. We might finally be able to get proof of a hominid-like creature in the United States. Think about it.”
Jack forced a smile that didn’t make it all the way to his eyes. “Great. Get your clay stuff for the cast. I’m going to take a look around the perimeter to make sure the cops didn’t miss anything.”
Landon arched an eyebrow when Jack straightened. “What is it you think we missed?”
“I just want to make sure we have all of the bases covered,” Jack replied. “I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
Landon’s shoulders were stiff. “Then I guess I
shouldn’t take it as one.”
“Great.”
THE NEXT forty-five minutes were extremely uncomfortable. I helped Chris with the foot casting while Jack prowled the immediate area, sticking his head through the sparse foliage in a bevy of different locations. It was spring, so the weeds and undergrowth hadn’t filled in yet and the ground was soft and muddy in places. That made searching with our eyes easier, but navigating the footpaths slippery and wet.
Landon remained rooted to his spot. He appeared mildly curious while watching Chris mix the fast-drying clay we used to make print casts, but otherwise remained lost in thought. After such an extended period of silence I couldn’t take the uncomfortable atmosphere descending over the area one second longer.
“How did you end up here?” I asked, causing Landon to jolt when the quiet was jarringly interrupted.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Landon said after a beat. “I was assigned to the Traverse City office. I grew up in mid-Michigan and wanted to stay in the state from the start. I did. I was assigned here.”
“Oh, not that. I mean, how did you end up in Hemlock Cove?”
“Bay.” Landon’s answer was simple and the way his lips curved at the corners at mention of his girlfriend made him that much more attractive, if that was even possible.
“So you’ve been dating her a long time?”
“About a year and a half.”
“Did you meet her on a case?”
“What is this, Lifestyles of the Fed and Dateless?” Jack shot me an annoyed look, which I ignored. “Leave him alone. He doesn’t want to answer your questions. You’re being invasive.”
“I’m not trying to be invasive,” I protested, lobbing a dark glare in Jack’s direction. “I was simply trying to get a feel for how he ended up here. He doesn’t look like the sort of guy who belongs in a town like Hemlock Cove.”
Landon’s lips twitched. “And what kind of guy do I look like?”
“The kind who prefers the big city,” I answered honestly.
The Bigfoot Blunder (A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 3
