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

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I see your point,” Thistle said pleasantly, taking everyone by surprise.

  “You do?” Twila cast her daughter a sidelong look. “Oh, well, that’s good.”

  “I see it and reject it,” Thistle clarified, her expression evil as she rubbed her hands together. “If I can’t mess with Clove I have absolutely no reason to live.”

  “Thanks, honey,” Marcus deadpanned, rubbing Thistle’s shoulder. “That makes me feel great.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Thistle said hurriedly, leaning closer to her long-suffering boyfriend. “You’re still my favorite person in the world.”

  Instead of reacting with hostility or snark, Marcus merely grinned. “I know I am. I also know that you won’t be happy until you make Clove cry.”

  “She doesn’t have to cry,” Thistle countered. “She can scream and I’ll be satisfied.”

  Marcus tugged a hand through his hair. “Do whatever you want,” he offered, seemingly resigned. “I know I won’t rest for days because of the complaining if I try to stop you. Just keep in mind that I won’t bail you out of jail. And if Clove makes you eat dirt, I will not help you clean up. I’ll also laugh.”

  Thistle’s expression darkened. “That’s a mean thing to say.”

  Marcus held his hands palms up and shrugged. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

  “I’m the best,” Tillie corrected. “You learned from Thistle, so you learned from the second best.”

  “I’m not second best at anything, old lady,” Thistle shot back. “I guarantee I can make Clove cry faster than you can.”

  “It’s not how fast you make her cry,” Tillie corrected. “It’s how long you make her cry that counts.”

  “I can beat you on that one, too.” Thistle puffed out her chest. “I’m the best when it comes to making Clove cry.”

  “Oh, is it a bet?” Tillie looked intrigued. “You’re on, mouth. We need to come up with a point system, though.”

  Thistle popped a strawberry into her mouth. “Why don’t we use the same one we had last year?”

  “We could, but I don’t see any reason to make Clove believe that a kraken lives in the bay by the Dandridge.” Tillie sounded pragmatic despite the surreal conversation. “That was the top point earner last time. We need to weed out the non-essentials this go-around.”

  Thistle blew out a sigh. “Fine. Come up with your list and I’ll go over it. It has to be fast, though. I promised Bay I’d help her with something this afternoon.”

  “You are terrible people. I’m not bailing either of you out of jail if you get arrested,” Marcus warned. “In fact, I’m tempted to run out to the Dandridge to warn Clove. She hasn’t done a thing to you.”

  “You always fall for that innocent act of hers. It gets annoying,” Thistle grumbled.

  I tuned out most of the argument and risked a glance around the table, focusing on each of my team members in turn. Millie and Bernard appeared intent on their breakfast plates and nothing else. Hannah and Chris had their heads bent together and appeared excited, although I wasn’t sure what had them riled. Laura looked bored. And Jack? Well, Jack was doing his level best to refrain from looking at me, so he had nowhere to focus but the argument. It was almost comical to watch him pretend to feign interest in Thistle and Tillie Winchester as they plotted the best methods to torture Clove.

  “Not that this isn’t a fascinating conversation, but you still haven’t told me what you found at the site,” Chris prodded, his pointed gaze landing on Jack. “If something happened, we need to know.”

  “I’m not sure what happened, but you’re definitely going to want to go through the footage,” Jack suggested. “We kept the cameras running, but didn’t look through the footage. As for what might be on it … well … I think Charlie is the one you need to talk to.”

  Chris turned to me, excited. “You saw a hominid-like creature?”

  He was so earnest I couldn’t exaggerate, so I merely shrugged. “I’m not sure what I saw. It was dark and I heard something outside of my tent. I’m not sure how to explain it. The tent had a little window and I looked at the stars before I fell asleep. It was nice.”

  “Oh, good grief,” Laura complained. “We don’t need to hear the romanticized version of your story. Can’t you get to the good stuff?”

  I ignored her. “I fell asleep for a few hours, and when I woke it was as if I sensed something outside of the tent.”

  “What was it?” a rapt Twila asked. “Was it a snake?”

  Tillie snorted. “It was a trouser snake … and it belonged in this one’s trousers.” She jerked her thumb in Jack’s direction, causing him to turn bright red. “Ha! I knew it!”

  “That is not what happened,” Jack offered hurriedly.

  “I don’t care about that,” Chris said, impatiently waving off Jack’s embarrassment. “Tell me about the creature.”

  “We don’t know that it was a creature,” I stressed.

  “We don’t,” Jack agreed. “Charlie heard something that woke her. When she looked out her tent she saw … something.”

  “What did you see?” Chris was breathless.

  “It was a shadow,” I replied, doing my best to play down the terror that seemed to overwhelm me the night before. “Whatever it was, it was too far away to make out any features. It didn’t talk. It was dark. It was at least six feet tall. And I heard it snuffling, as if it was scenting the area. That’s all I know.”

  “What did you do?” Tillie asked, leaning forward. “Did you go out to investigate?”

  “I … no.” In truth, that hadn’t even occurred to me. I’d been too afraid to risk going in that direction. All I could think about was getting to safety. That meant Jack’s tent. “I kind of watched it a little bit, and then I got Jack.”

  Jack mustered a dubious expression. “She woke me, and by the time I made it to the spot she indicated it was gone.”

  “So you didn’t see anything?” Chris was disappointed. “I thought you were going to give me good news.”

  “That’s not the end of the story,” Jack said. “This morning I went back out there and found footprints. I don’t want you to get too excited, but there were no tread marks in the prints.”

  Chris sucked in a breath. “Oh, my!”

  “What does that mean?” Thistle asked.

  “Shoes,” Marcus answered before anyone else could. “When someone is wearing shoes, they almost always have tread marks that leave a pattern in the dirt. Jack is saying that whoever – or I guess whatever is more accurate – was out there last night didn’t leave behind a tread pattern.”

  “Oh.” Thistle screwed up her face in concentration. “Did it have paw prints?”

  Jack shook his head. “Indentations. I can’t say with any certainty that it was an animal.”

  “I don’t care about animals,” Chris pressed. “I care if it was a hominid-like creature.”

  “You need to expand your vocabulary,” Tillie suggested. “Call it Bigfoot and stop being so full of yourself. You’re simply annoying people and nothing more.”

  “Excuse me?” Chris’ eyebrows flew up his forehead.

  “Bigfoot,” Tillie repeated, exaggerating the two syllables. “You can say it if you apply yourself.”

  Chris pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth while I hid behind my coffee mug. I found the Winchester matriarch hilarious. I had a feeling I was the only one.

  “Maybe it was a bear,” Marcus suggested, drawing my attention to him. “We don’t many bears in the area, but they’re drawn to the water. If there was a bear around, it would want to be close to the lake or creek so it could fish.”

  “Why would a bear murder Bellaire’s favorite wanton woman?” Thistle challenged.

  “I’m not saying a bear killed Penny Schilling,” Marcus clarified. “I believe a human did that.”

  “How can you say that?” Chris turned his full attention to Marcus. “There were unidentified animal prints out the
re. Now Charlie saw something in the woods.”

  “There are plenty of ways a human could cover his or her tracks after dumping a body in the woods,” Jack cautioned. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Chris. You should look over the video. Don’t get your hopes up, though. I have no idea if you’ll find anything on that footage.”

  “I’m not getting my hopes up,” Chris shot back. “I’m merely looking at the facts.”

  “You seem to be forgetting the fact that Penny slept with anyone who moved,” Thistle argued. “There are a lot of humans out there who would have the motivation to kill her.”

  “I’ll bet she saw a trouser snake or two in her time,” Tillie said.

  “Don’t be crude,” Jack warned, extending a finger.

  Instead of declaring him to be on her list or going after him, Tillie merely laughed. “You remind me of Landon.”

  Jack stared at her. “Is that good or bad? You don’t seem to like Landon.”

  “I like him well enough. And Bay loves him,” Tillie replied. “That’s good enough for me.” Her eyes drifted to me and lingered, making me uncomfortable. “Of course, Landon didn’t realize what he was getting into when he started sniffing around Bay. He was attracted to her, but didn’t want to admit it. He was already a goner by then, but he didn’t know it.”

  “I … okay.” Jack face flushed at the conversational turn. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me that.”

  “Oh, you know why I’m telling you that.” Tillie grabbed a strip of bacon from the platter in front of Jack and waved it enticingly. “I’m kind of curious about how much like Landon you really are.”

  “He’s not like Landon,” I interjected, cleaning off my plate. “Jack is his own person. He has his own brain, heart and ego. Oh, and his ego needs its own ZIP code.”

  Jack scowled. “Do you want to take this outside?”

  Thistle snorted as Marcus frowned.

  “Did you just challenge her to a fistfight, man?” Marcus asked, his eyes clouding.

  “I … no.” Jack was scandalized. “That’s not what I meant. I was going to ask her if she wanted to go outside to talk. Just … talk. It has nothing to do with a fistfight. I … how could you even think that?”

  Marcus shrugged. “I live with Thistle, and she’s big on wrestling. It’s not that far of a leap.”

  “You hit her?” Jack challenged.

  Marcus was flustered. “Of course I don’t hit her,” he snapped back. “I don’t even really wrestle with her unless we’re naked. Um, wait. That totally came out wrong.”

  “We know what you meant, honey.” Thistle patted his hand, amused. Clearly this didn’t happen often, because she was having a good time messing with Marcus over his discomfort. “You like to smack me around when I’m naked. It’s totally normal.”

  Marcus hopped to his feet, flummoxed. “That is not what I said.”

  “What did you say?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “I … .”

  Jack snickered as Marcus took a step from the table.

  “I’m done here,” Marcus announced. “Thistle, you’re on your own for the day. Don’t get arrested. And if Clove beats you up once you make her cry I’m not going to have any sympathy for you. As for the rest of you … well … have fun looking for Bigfoot.”

  Marcus spun on his heel and fled through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. Thistle was unbelievably amused at his departure, although her gaze was thoughtful when it landed on me. I could practically see her mind working.

  “What?” I challenged.

  Thistle shook her head, the teal hair glinting under the chandelier. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  “You clearly have something to say,” I prodded.

  “I don’t have anything to say.” Thistle stood and locked gazes with Tillie. “Are you ready to come up with our point system? I have work and then … well … then I have Bay.”

  That was the second time she’d mentioned Bay. I couldn’t help but be suspicious. “What are you doing with Bay?”

  “Cousin stuff,” Thistle replied evasively. “You guys have fun with your video. If you find proof of Bigfoot, we’ll be thrilled to see it.”

  “If we find proof of a hominid-like creature, the world will be thrilled to see it,” Chris corrected. “We’ll be famous.”

  “Yeah, you need to show your trouser snake to the blond girl over there,” Tillie said, pointing. “I think that’s the only thing that’s going to save your nerves and make you famous in your own mind now.”

  Chris stared blankly. “What’s a trouser snake?”

  “Oh, geez!” Aunt Tillie pinched the bridge of her nose. “I miss the normal guests. They’re so much easier to mess with.”

  Thistle grinned. “Well, if you don’t feel up for a challenge, old lady, you can just give me the money now.”

  “Keep it up, mouth. You’ll be crying when I’m done with you.”

  As frustrated as I was about the previous evening’s events – and the confusing way I woke – there was something comforting about the Winchesters’ brand of zany hijinks. I lost myself in their silly argument for the rest of breakfast, pushing my own problems out of my mind.

  That didn’t stop the big question from popping up, though. Where were we supposed to go from here?

  21

  Twenty-One

  “Men are stupid.”

  With nothing better to do with my morning I decided to go back to the site for a better look around in the bright light of day. Chris was eager to pore over the video. He kept Hannah and Laura close so they could use various filters to clean up the imagery. I found the video distracting because the only thing I could see with any certainty was that a branch fell at some point. Of course, Chris was determined the creature dropped the branch. I could hardly tell him the truth without outing myself. In an effort to escape my discomfort, I suggested returning to the site.

  Ostensibly I volunteered for the task to see if I could make casts of the prints – which Chris readily agreed to – and then asked for keys to one of the vehicles. Chris suggested I take Jack with me, which was a terrible idea, so I opted to shanghai Millie instead. She seemed up for the adventure until I fell into a fit of melancholy once we parked next to the Dandridge. I couldn’t get Jack’s earlier words out of my head. I became steadily obsessed with the size of his ego as we walked to the site.

  Millie arched a penciled eyebrow as she shifted a glance toward me. She was fine picking her way through the woods and trudging over broken trails, never uttering a word of complaint. I could tell she was curious about my mood, but she didn’t ask a single question … until I opened my big, fat mouth.

  “I was thinking of making that the title of my autobiography one day,” Millie mused, slowing her pace to step over a fallen tree. “I think ‘Men Are Stupid … and So Are the Women Who Love Them’ is a fantastic title.”

  I tilted my head to the side, curious. “Are you planning to write an autobiography? I bet you’ve got some good stories to tell.”

  “I do,” Millie confirmed. “I would never really write an autobiography, though. That was a joke.”

  “Oh.” In hindsight I should’ve realized that. “I can see why you wouldn’t want that. You’re a private person, after all.”

  Millie snorted, taking me by surprise. “I’m not private in the least,” she offered. “In fact, I’ve got some very off-color stories involving public restrooms that I’m dying to share once I know you better.”

  “I’m never offended by true stories,” I protested.

  Millie didn’t look convinced. “You’re under the age of twenty-five, honey. You’re part of that whole politically correct youth movement that’s so annoying today. Don’t get me wrong, I like it when kids state their opinions and stand up for injustice. I read about the whole ‘burning your bras’ thing and wished I’d been old enough to do it at the time. What I don’t like is people getting offended just to be offended.”

  I studied her
a moment, conflicted. “You would burn your bra?”

  Millie’s smile was so wide it almost split her face. “How did I know you would focus on that? For the record, yes, I would burn my bra. That’s not just because I hate wearing a bra – I do – it’s also because I love a good protest.”

  I took a moment to look Millie up and down as I waited for her to edge around a large rut in the middle of the pathway. “I can see you at a protest,” I said after a beat. “I’ll bet you participated in a lot of protests. Like … did you protest the war?”

  Millie balked. “How old do you think I am?”

  “Oh, I … .” I knew answering that question would be a mistake. My mother always told me that when a woman asks you to identify her age it’s almost certainly a trap. “You don’t look a day over twenty-nine.”

  Millie snorted, amused. “You’re quick on your feet. I’ll give you that.”

  “That’s what my mother always told me.”

  I felt Millie’s eyes rest on my back as I continued pushing forward. “Your adopted mother, you mean?”

  I swallowed hard. “How do you know about that? I only told Jack … and now I’m definitely regretting it if he told you. I didn’t realize he had such a big mouth.”

  “He doesn’t,” Millie clarified. “He didn’t mention anything about that. But I am curious about what happened to the two of you last night, so don’t go thinking we’re done talking about that. You shouldn’t blame him, though. The boy is loyal. He wouldn’t betray your trust.”

  I had the grace to look abashed. “Oh.” I ran my tongue over my lips as I tried to rein in my temper. “If Jack didn’t tell you, how do you know?”

  “I’ve seen your file,” Millie replied. “Before you have another meltdown, I’m the only one who has seen it other than Chris. He doesn’t share files with the others. I saw it because I went through his things.”

  “You went through his things?”

  Millie bobbed her head. “He keeps candy in his desk. I was looking for a Cadbury chocolate bar when I saw your file. I recognized the name because Chris said you were joining us. I took a peek.”