The Bigfoot Blunder (A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “How do they get past the security system?” Jack asked, eyeing the locked gate.

  “They know the ambulance codes.”

  “Ah, well, that makes sense.” Jack was thoughtful. “Where are they partying up there?”

  “My understanding is that their favorite spot is the eighteenth green of the golf course,” Millie replied. “It’s accessed through a short trail. Nobody ever busts them out there because the cops can only go past the gate if there’s an emergency. Also, the head of security apparently knows and doesn’t care as long as they don’t tear anything up. He’s even joined them a time or two.”

  “What about homeowners in that area?” Jack pressed. “Wouldn’t they call the cops if they heard something?”

  “I guess that’s the only part of the golf course that doesn’t have condos looking out over it,” Millie replied. “The kids explained it to me. The course starts by the cart barn thing and then winds all the way around, ending behind that gate.”

  “Well, you never have to worry about young people not being able to find a place to party,” Jack mused. “What did they say about Penny?”

  “Just that she wasn’t the discriminating sort and slept her way through half the bellboy staff, the entire maintenance staff and some of the kitchen staff. She was looking forward to greeting the seasonal summer staff in a few weeks.”

  Jack exchanged a quick look with me in the rearview mirror. “I feel kind of ashamed we only stumbled over the three older men while we were questioning people.”

  “According to the guys unloading that truck – who were very hot and sweaty, by the way – Penny was focused on those men above all else,” Millie said. “I wrote their names down.”

  “Shane Norman, Bob Grimes and Jim Green?”

  “Those would be the ones.” Millie shot Jack a gaze full of grudging respect. “You have a good memory.”

  “Yes, well, I wrote down their names, too, so it’s not exactly as if I’m magic,” Jack teased.

  I remained mostly silent in the back seat, something bothering me. “If Penny was really sleeping with all of those men, odds are that a human killed her because of jealousy.” I meant to think the sentence instead of utter it, but my mouth often gets ahead of me.

  “I think a human did kill her,” Jack said, his eyes cloudy. “Does that bother you?”

  “Well, I would be lying if I said it wouldn’t be more interesting if Bigfoot killed her,” I admitted. “It’s just … we’re here for the paranormal angle. Will we leave because it’s clear a human probably killed her?”

  “No.” Jack shook his dark head. “Right now we believe a human killed her, but have no idea who did the deed. Unfortunately the suspect list is bound to be massive. We cannot rule out anything until we find her murderer.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that Chris will continue doing what he does until the cops tell him otherwise,” Millie replied, a fond smile curving her lips. “He’s a good boy – I’ve loved him his entire life – but he gets tunnel vision. He’s so desperate for it to be an undiscovered beast that he’ll refuse to see the truth until he has no other choice.”

  “Will we tell him what we’ve found?” I was still unsure how the group worked.

  Jack nodded. “I’ll tell him. He’ll immediately tell me that just because she had multiple boyfriends doesn’t mean Bigfoot isn’t the culprit. I’ll argue that the odds aren’t good for his scenario. Then we’ll agree to keep working until the truth comes out.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” I scratched my cheek as I leaned my temple against the window. “I want to do some research on this area. I’m curious about the Dog Man stories.”

  “And I want to pull up a map of the resort and run a search on the men from the resort,” Jack said. “I’m thinking we can probably do both at the library.”

  I knew he was right, but still … . “I want to check the newspaper archives, too. They might have old stories about Dog Man sightings in the area.”

  Jack’s eyes were filled with curiosity when I met them in the mirror. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Jack seemed conflicted. He shook his head more decisively. “If you want to go to the newspaper office, I don’t see why you can’t.”

  “Thanks so much for your permission, Dad,” I said dryly.

  “No problem.” Jack forced a wan smile. “Next stop Hemlock Cove. Let’s see what we can come up with, shall we?”

  I GRABBED a coffee from the bakery and sat at a table that overlooked the newspaper office as I waited for Bay to return. A lovely woman named Mrs. Gunderson saw where my attention was focused and offered me a small grin when she circled around to top off my mug.

  “Are you looking for Bay?”

  The question caught me off guard. “I’m hoping to look through her archives, but I believe she’s off with the police chief and an FBI agent.”

  “Landon and Chief Terry?”

  I was used to living in bigger cities, so the fact that everyone knew everyone in Hemlock Cove was something I was still trying to wrap my head around. “Yes. You know them?”

  “I’ve known Terry since he was a boy,” Mrs. Gunderson explained. “Landon is a more recent transplant, but he fits in well. He and Bay are cute together.”

  “Do you know Bay well?” I figured it was risky to ask questions about the Winchesters in a town this size, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “I’ve known Bay since she was a baby,” Mrs. Gunderson acknowledged. “She’s been running around town with her cousins ever since. They were quite the mischief makers as children – Tillie encouraged that so it wasn’t really their fault – but they’ve grown to be wonderful women.”

  “Do you find them … odd?”

  Mrs. Gunderson appeared amused by the question. She glanced around the bakery to make sure everyone was content and then sat in the open chair across from me. “What’s wrong? I was under the impression your group was staying at The Overlook. Are you fighting with the girls? If so, just avoid Thistle. She’s crabby, but has a heart of gold under all of that snark.”

  I wasn’t sure the “heart of gold” comment was accurate, but I could hardly argue the point. “Do you know what my group does?” Gossip was a way of life in small towns, so I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what kind of whispers were being spread about the foundation.

  “You people try to prove whether or not something strange is afoot.”

  Mrs. Gunderson’s response sounded so well-rehearsed I couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “Kind of. We’re here because my boss believes Bigfoot killed a woman named Penny Schilling. Did you know her?”

  “I didn’t know Penny, but I know her mother.”

  “That’s what Mrs. Winchester said.”

  “You’re talking about Tillie?”

  I nodded. “Do you know Tillie?”

  “We went to school together,” Mrs. Gunderson replied, choosing her words carefully. “There was a time we were very close. We’ve grown apart over the years, but I have a lot of respect for her.”

  “Because she’s odd?”

  “Because she’s loyal,” Mrs. Gunderson corrected. “I understand that from your perspective the Winchesters probably appear … persnickety. That’s simply the way they interact. They love each other terribly, and if something were to happen to one of them they would all fall apart.”

  I didn’t need to know the Winchesters better to figure that out for myself. “They’re hiding something.”

  I don’t know why I said it. Actually, I whispered it, to be more precise. I kept my gaze locked on Mrs. Gunderson’s kind eyes as I said it, gauging her reaction. Instead of balking and saying I was crazy or responding with gossip of her own, she chuckled and patted my hand.

  “Everyone has something they want to hide, my dear.” Mrs. Gunderson’s eyes were contemplative as they locked with mine. “I think even you have secrets you’re loath to share with anyone else.”

  That was defini
tely true, and still … . “You know what they’re hiding, don’t you?”

  “I know that the Winchesters are extremely loyal individuals and every single one of them is a hard worker,” Mrs. Gunderson replied. “If they have secrets – and everyone does – they’ve earned the right to keep them.”

  “That wasn’t a denial.”

  Mrs. Gunderson heaved a heavy sigh that told me her patience was wearing thin. “Charlotte … that’s your name, right? I believe that’s what I heard.”

  “Charlie. Everyone calls me Charlie.”

  “Charlie, I can see why someone in your unique position would look at the Winchesters and think there’s something to uncover there, but I promise you that you’re wasting your time,” Mrs. Gunderson said. “I’ve known Tillie a long time. She’s always been eccentric. For example, did you know that about six months ago she took to ordering leggings online? Some of them were almost pornographic.”

  I didn’t know that, but the picture in my head was enough to make me smile. “How were they pornographic?”

  “Let’s just say there should be an age limit on leggings and leave it at that,” Mrs. Gunderson suggested, smiling. “When those girls were young, their fathers left. Their mothers wanted a good life for them, so they went to school and learned business so they could turn the old homestead into a bed and breakfast at first and then eventually an inn.”

  “That’s great. What happened to the fathers?”

  “They left town for a bit. Then they showed back up about a year or so ago,” Mrs. Gunderson answered. “They own a competing inn.”

  I widened my eyes, dumbfounded. “Really? Do Thistle, Clove and Bay see their fathers?” For some reason I was fascinated by the gossip.

  “They do, but I wouldn’t say the girls are close with their fathers,” Mrs. Gunderson said. “But they are all close with the man who stepped in and acted as their father for a number of years.”

  “Terry Davenport.” I knew it was the chief without wasting time on an internal debate. I shifted my eyes to the police station when I heard a car door slam and saw Bay, Chief Davenport and Landon exiting a police cruiser. Bay said something that had both men guffawing loudly. The look on the chief’s face when he smiled at her was definitely fatherly. “I should’ve figured that out myself. He was ordering Landon not to do anything dirty with her earlier.”

  “Yes, Landon and Terry have a unique relationship,” Mrs. Gunderson confirmed. “Despite all of that, Terry looks at Landon as a son.”

  “If Bay is his daughter, doesn’t that mean there’s a little incest going on?” I was going for levity, but Mrs. Gunderson didn’t look amused.

  “Only if you have a perverted mind,” she answered, her eyes dark. “I didn’t tell you this because I enjoy gossip. I do, mind you, but this isn’t really gossip. I’m simply telling you that what you see as a secret may well be a complicated relationship. The Winchesters are all about complicated relationships.”

  She had a point. I felt guilty for prying. “I’m sorry for asking about them. It’s just … I can’t help being curious. They’re all so colorful.”

  Mrs. Gunderson chuckled. “They’re definitely colorful.”

  “Earlier today Thistle and Bay practically wrestled Tillie down on the sidewalk because she was going after some woman named Mrs. Little. It was like watching a television show.”

  Mrs. Gunderson’s smile was bright enough to light the entire bakery. “Yes, well, they should’ve let Tillie do whatever she wanted to that harlot.”

  I tried to swallow my smile … and failed. It seemed Mrs. Gunderson had a few secrets of her own, and hating Margaret Little was one of them. “I’m sorry for being gossipy. I just can’t seem to wrap my head around this town.”

  “It takes some getting used to.” Mrs. Gunderson got to her feet. “Don’t assume the Winchesters are hiding something big. They thrive on fighting about small things, too.”

  “I’ve noticed that.” Impulsively I reached out and gripped Mrs. Gunderson’s free hand. “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Gunderson opened her mouth to respond and then snapped it shut when I gasped. My senses kicked into overdrive as a series of visions filled my head. Then I heard the screaming – oh, it was terrible! – and I fought to remain conscious as the scenes sped through my brain like a movie playing on fast-forward.

  I saw Bay fall in a hole and Landon scream for her. I saw Mrs. Gunderson crying as she talked to Tillie. I saw Landon’s terrified face as he tried to protect Bay with his body from … something I couldn’t quite identify. I saw a terrible white mist congealing into the form of a man and advancing on Bay.

  All the while I heard screaming … and then it was replaced with something else.

  I’m coming for you, Floyd!

  I jerked my hand back, my heart hammering as my fingers shook. Mrs. Gunderson’s face flooded with concern as she leaned closer. She clearly hadn’t seen the images in my head, but she’d lived through at least some of them.

  “Are you okay?”

  I struggled to find my tongue, and when I did, my voice cracked as I responded. “I’m fine. Thank you. I should probably get over to the newspaper so I can go through those archives.”

  “Yes … well … are you sure you’re okay?” Mrs. Gunderson didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m fine,” I forced out, my stomach twisting. “I just drank too much caffeine today. I’m feeling a little jittery.”

  I often felt jittery after being overwhelmed by a vision. This vision, though, was more powerful than any other. I wasn’t expecting it either. I didn’t seek it out. It came to me at a time when my mind and heart were open.

  What the heck is going on in Hemlock Cove?

  10

  Ten

  Bay didn’t seem surprised to see me when I walked through the front door of the newspaper office, which appeared to be empty save for her.

  “I was hoping to go through the archives if it’s not a bother,” I said sheepishly. “We want to see if you ever ran anything about animal attacks in the past, maybe see if we can find common locations, things like that.”

  “That makes sense.” Bay’s smile was light and airy as she gestured for me to follow her down a short hallway. “You’ll find that we don’t have archives like newspapers in big cities do, which is both a blessing and a curse depending on which way you look at things.” She pointed to a row of file cabinets against the far wall. “Help yourself. I just ask that you file everything back the way it was when you’re done.”

  The tall file cabinets looked daunting but I was determined to make an effort. “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem.” Bay turned to leave before I could question her further – which is what I really wanted – but I hurriedly grabbed her hand, hoping to have another psychic flash like the one I experienced in the bakery. It worked, but not in the way I expected.

  I blinked rapidly, a series of frantic pictures shifting through my brain. I saw a small blond girl bullied by a dark-haired girl and then the same blonde laughing with two other girls who were clearly Thistle and Clove. The final image was of a blond girl, this time lonely as she stood in the center of a cemetery. She seemed upset, even a little lost, and then Terry Davenport wandered up to her and they began chatting. There was nothing else. No danger … or fear … or terrible screams.

  I released Bay’s hand, forcing a smile and hoping she didn’t realize I’d been trying to invade her mind. My psychic flashes were hard to control. I’d been hoping to see more about the white mist monster I saw the brief flash of when I touched Mrs. Gunderson’s hand. It wasn’t there, though.

  “I want to thank you for your hospitality,” I offered, hoping I sounded sincere. “Your family has been wonderful to us.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive I saw something flash in the depths of Bay’s eyes. It was recognition, but it was gone before I could spend too much time focusing on it.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Bay said, her tone che
ery. “I understand that you have a job to do. It’s not an easy one given what you’re investigating. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “You, too.”

  I SPENT hours going through the archives and came up with only a handful of articles even remotely interesting. When it was time to leave, Bay offered me a ride with her and Landon – which I initially declined and said I would call a cab to get back to the inn because I was desperate not to inconvenience her. She laughed and pointed out Hemlock Cove didn’t have cabs, so my only choice was to track down Jack for a ride or go with her. I opted to go with her.

  “Landon is picking us up in the parking lot,” Bay offered, locking the door and causing me to cock an eyebrow. “Is something wrong? Did you forget something?”

  “No, it’s just … isn’t someone else in there?”

  Bay shook her head. “It was just us all afternoon. No one else was in the building.”

  “I swear I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

  “No.”

  “You called her Viola.”

  This time I was positive that the expression flitting across Bay’s face was something to worry about. She looked both pensive and curious. “I was on the phone briefly with Clove,” she said, and I got the distinct impression she was making it up as she went along. “That’s probably what you heard.”

  “Probably.” I didn’t believe that for a second, but I could hardly call her a liar.

  Bay hurried down the steps and headed straight for Landon’s Ford Explorer. He hopped out of the vehicle when he saw me, curious, but he went straight to Bay and offered her a hug. “Charlie went through our archives all afternoon,” Bay offered. “She was looking for stories on animal attacks.”

  “That sounds like a boring way to spend an afternoon,” Landon noted.

  “We’re giving her a ride back to the inn,” Bay added.

  “That’s fine.” Landon opened the back door of the Explorer for me and gestured. “Climb in.”