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

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Oh, well, I guess you were curious.” I forced out the words even as my stomach rolled. I knew people would find out about my past, about my parents, before too long. I didn’t think it would be this soon, though. I hated answering questions about my parents.

  “I’m nosy,” Millie corrected. “I thought maybe there was something about you I might be able to exploit in case I ever wanted to blackmail you.”

  Now it was my turn to balk. “Excuse me?”

  Millie’s smile was impish. “How do you think I manage to handle Laura so well? I’ve got a doozy on her. I thought I might need something on you, too. It turns out I don’t, because I like you. But I didn’t know that at the time.”

  “I suppose I should take that as a compliment, huh?”

  “It’s the closest you’ll ever get from me,” Millie confirmed.

  “What did … um … what did the file say?” I kept my eyes focused on the ground, telling myself it was because I didn’t want to trip, even though I knew in my heart that I was afraid to meet Millie’s steady gaze lest she see into my soul and read the fear living there. The fear was always close. It wasn’t the same sort of fear I felt the night before when I saw the figure near the tents. No, this fear was worse.

  Much, much worse.

  “It said that you were found abandoned when you were a child, put into the foster system and adopted by Kate and Caleb Rhodes.” Millie recited the file with clinical detachment and exactitude. “The file said your adopted parents died when you were a teenager. You’ve been on your own since.”

  “That’s all?”

  Millie lifted an eyebrow. “Should there have been something more?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. “It’s always humbling to see your entire life broken down into a few sentences. I had two sets of parents, and now I have none. That’s all my life amounts to.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Millie said hurriedly, and for the first time I saw something other than mischief on her face. I saw pity. I preferred the mischief. “You had a lot of academic accolades in there, too.”

  “Yes, well, I think I’ll make that the title of my autobiography,” I offered, going for levity. “Everyone loves academic accolades, right?”

  “I think I’m doing this wrong,” Millie muttered, scratching her cheek. “I can never tell because I’m so used to sticking my foot in my mouth. Most of the time I don’t care. I care today, but I still managed to trip over it. I’m … sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I waved off the apology. “It’s fine.”

  “I don’t think it is, but I also don’t know what I said to put you on edge. I truly am sorry.”

  “I said it was fine.” I focused my attention on my shoes as I trudged forward. “The site is only a few minutes away.”

  “Uh-huh.” Millie sounded thoughtful as she followed me. “You said that men are stupid,” she prodded after a few moments of quiet. “Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Jack last night?”

  “Not particularly.”

  Millie wasn’t about to give up. “I know something happened. You guys went from constantly sitting next to one another to not even making eye contact.”

  “I think you’re exaggerating,” I said. “Jack and I are fine.”

  “Whatever.” Millie rolled her eyes. “I’ll bet you saw each other naked and have buyer’s remorse. That’s ridiculous. You’re both under thirty, so what reason could you possibly have to be remorseful? Your thighs don’t brush together when you walk and your boobs are still perky. Now is the time to get naked, honey.”

  It took me a moment to comprehend what she said. “We did not see each other naked!”

  Millie’s eyebrows flew up her forehead at my high-pitched tone. “Yeah, that convinces me.”

  I took all of my effort to lower my voice and remain calm. “We did not see each other naked. I swear it.”

  Millie searched my face, and apparently decided after a long time that I was telling the truth. “That’s disappointing. I thought for sure you two rolled around on top of each other instead of looking for Bigfoot.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you’re suddenly uncomfortable with each other. You were fine yesterday,” Millie replied, saddened now that I had kicked the legs out from under her assumption about Jack and me. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. There’s been a bit of tension here and there where you guys are concerned. I noticed it right away. I thought it was merely flirtatious energy, but now I think it’s something more.”

  “Oh, yeah? What is that?”

  Millie shrugged. “I think you guys are attracted to each other.”

  Well, that was just ridiculous. “Why do people keep saying that?” I asked, annoyed. “He’s very bossy. It’s not that he’s not good looking, because he is – I mean he really is – but we have nothing in common.”

  “Relationships where you have everything in common are very boring,” Millie supplied. “Why do you think Myron and I crashed and burned?”

  That was an interesting question. “Because you’re full of life and he’s not.”

  Millie smiled. “Thank you for that, but on paper Myron and I had a lot in common. We were both academics who enjoy theater, reading and travel. We should’ve been a good match.”

  “What happened?”

  “Life happened,” Millie replied. “I didn’t want to be a businessman’s wife. All he wanted to be was a businessman. I saw us as equals. He didn’t. There went the marriage.”

  “See, that’s exactly why Jack and I would make a terrible couple,” I said. “He’s bossy and feels the need to tell me what to do. I can’t put up with that.”

  Millie tapped her bottom lip as she stared at me. “He’s not bossy. He’s … protective.”

  “That’s not how I see it.”

  “Then you’re looking at it wrong,” Millie pressed. “Jack is a … tortured … boy. I say ‘boy’ but he’s more of a man than anyone I’ve ever met. You guys seemed to have a nice talk last night before whatever happened that you’re pretending didn’t happen, huh?” Amusement flittered across Millie’s face. “Do you know that you’re the only one Jack has bothered to talk to since joining the group?”

  “That’s not true,” I protested. “I see him talking to you all of the time.”

  “We talk, but not about anything heavy,” Millie countered. “He’s a good boy with a big heart. He’s haunted, though. He talked to you, and I’m guessing it was more serious than any talk he’s ever had with me. Why do you think that is?”

  I shrugged, unsure. “We were bored and stuck out in the woods together. There was nothing to do besides watch the fire and chat.”

  “Yes, but why did he volunteer to go with you?” Millie prodded. “He could’ve stayed behind and sent you by yourself. He volunteered to go with you despite the fact that he was agitated about you taking off for the resort with the blonde. Why do you think that is?”

  “I … don’t know.” I wasn’t being evasive. I honestly didn’t have an answer. Millie’s therapist shtick was getting old fast. “We didn’t talk about anything all that deep. We talked briefly about my parents, then we went to sleep. Then I thought I saw something and climbed into his tent. That’s it.”

  “Ha!” Millie barked out the exclamation, causing me to jolt, and pointed her finger in my direction. “There it is! I knew something happened between the two of you. You climbed in his tent. Were you naked?”

  “No.”

  “Was he naked?”

  “No.”

  “Did you kiss?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Millie’s face fell. “It sounds like you did it wrong. Why didn’t you make a move?”

  “I barely know him and I’m not interested in a relationship,” I replied, hiding my internal disgust when I realized I used the same words Jack had earlier. “Jack’s not interested either. I came here for the job. Nothing more.”

  “You’re an idiot,�
� Millie muttered, shaking her head. “I think you’ll figure that out on your own eventually.”

  “I think you’re dreaming, but I don’t feel like arguing,” I shot back. “As for Jack … he didn’t tell me much about himself. He did seem a bit … frustrated … this morning because we slept in the same tent and ended up a little closer than he felt was comfortable. He kept offering to resign if I felt that he crossed a line. It was very odd.”

  “He’s had a traumatic past,” Millie said, her voice low.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that he’s had a traumatic past,” Millie replied. “Something happened when he was in the Marines … and, no, I don’t know what it is. He was going to make the military his career, but then he cycled out at some point. I’ve heard Myron and Chris whisper about some incident, but I don’t know what it entailed.”

  We moved toward the last hill before reaching the site. “You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?”

  “I think that depends on who he’s up against,” Millie replied. “I don’t believe he’s dangerous to you or me. He’s dangerous to anyone who tries to hurt an individual under his protection. I’ve seen him in action a time or two, and he’s good at his job. The thought of him being even better is terrifying.”

  I hadn’t seen Jack in action, but I wouldn’t challenge her assessment. “And you want me to hook up with … that?”

  Millie snorted, her dour expression melting. “I think you will hook up with that, but that’s a discussion for another time. We’re supposed to be looking for Bigfoot. Let’s focus on that.”

  “I agree. I … .” I didn’t get a chance to finish my statement because when we reached the top of the hill we found Thistle, Clove and Bay searching the site. They didn’t bother glancing in our direction, instead focusing on the ground for … something. I had no idea why they were here, and I had trouble wrapping my head around the turn of events. Then Bay spoke, continuing what looked to be an easy conversation with her cousins as they traipsed around our hominid search site.

  “Men are stupid,” Bay announced. “I’m totally sick of them.”

  Thistle snorted. “Honey, you’re preaching to the choir.”

  Millie met my gaze before focusing on the cousins. “Oh, this should be interesting.”

  I had no doubt she was right.

  22

  Twenty-Two

  “Honey, you’re preaching to the choir.”

  Millie, not one for awkward silences, filled the one in the clearing as soon as Thistle lifted her head and realized her group wasn’t alone. Bay, who was mid-complaint, didn’t bother to tamp down her surprise when she saw us standing on the other side of the tents.

  “What are you doing here?” Bay blurted out, her cheeks flushed.

  “What are you doing here?” I countered, suspicious.

  Thistle mentioned twice over breakfast that she had something to do with Bay this afternoon. Were they always planning a visit out here? If so, why?

  “What are you doing here?” Thistle asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “I asked first.”

  “Uh-uh.” Clove shook her head and pointed. “Bay asked first.”

  I stared down the trio, adopting the darkest expression in my arsenal. They didn’t so much as shift from one foot to the other. “We’re here to see if we can find more footprints,” I replied after a few moments of silence. “We’re here to do a job.”

  “I was simply asking what you were doing here,” Bay replied. “I was under the impression that you were watching videos all afternoon.”

  “And not pornographic ones,” Clove added. “I asked.”

  Thistle pressed her lips together. I could see her shoulders shaking from twenty-five feet away as she swallowed her silent laughter.

  “We’ve seen the video. We came back to look for more prints,” I said. “That’s what we’re doing here. What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, well, we’re looking for prints, too.” Bay wasn’t exactly what I would call a gifted liar. She kept exchanging unreadable looks with Thistle – looks that made me more suspicious than ever – while steadfastly avoiding eye contact with me.

  “You’re looking for prints?” I challenged. “May I ask why?”

  “Because we’re interested in Bigfoot,” Thistle answered. She was calmer under pressure. I got the distinct impression that she would spout the same story until the end of time, never breaking until she ran out of oxygen. She was clearly a much better liar than Bay. I had a feeling that was the reason she took control of the conversation. “We wanted to see if we could find evidence of Bigfoot. I mean … you don’t own this land. We’re allowed to come and go as we please.”

  “Yeah, it’s a free country,” Clove jeered.

  I narrowed my eyes as I stared at the shorter girl. She seemed nervous, fluttery even. She kept glancing around the woods, as if she expected a creature to jump out at any time. Her reaction was almost comical. “I see.” I tugged on my lower lip as I stared at them. “Well, if everyone is minding their own business, we can continue to do that separately. Sound good?”

  “I was happier when it was just the three of us so we could speak freely, but I guess it will have to do,” Thistle countered, grabbing Clove’s shoulder and directing her toward the spot where Bay stood. “You guys can do your work and we’ll do our work.”

  “Yes, that sounds lovely.” I bobbed my head. “If you want to continue your discussion, feel free to do that, too. We won’t get in the middle of it.”

  “That sounds great.” Thistle offered me a wide smile that was much more “shark circling its prey” than “trustworthy woman” but I opted not to comment, instead leading Millie toward the spot where I saw the shadowy figure the night before while keeping my ears open.

  “Go back to what you were saying, Bay,” Thistle ordered. “Why are you mad at Landon?”

  “I’m not technically angry,” Bay replied, kneeling next to a spot on the side of the clearing and pulling out her phone. “He’s just insensitive sometimes.”

  “That’s a man thing,” Clove pointed out. “He doesn’t mean to be insensitive. What did he say?”

  “He brought up the time he left as if it was funny and I was being stupid because it hurt my feelings.”

  “That’s not what he said when he got trapped in Aunt Tillie’s mind and had to relive it,” Clove pointed out, making a sound like a wounded animal when Thistle kicked her knee. She recovered quickly. “I meant when Aunt Tillie brought it up in front of everyone that one time.”

  I rolled what Thistle said through my head. Landon got “trapped in Aunt Tillie’s mind.” There weren’t a lot of ways to phrase that so it was believable. There also weren’t a lot of ways to change it so that it made sense.

  “I don’t think he meant to hurt your feelings,” Thistle said. “He loves you. Trust me. He’s freaking whipped. He would never purposely hurt your feelings.”

  “In theory I believe that,” Bay conceded. “In practice, well, it’s hard to believe when he just brushes off my feelings. He doesn’t understand why I’m agitated. He keeps telling me to calm down because I’m being a hysterical female.”

  Clove’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Did he use those words?”

  Bay shook her head. “That’s what I heard, though. He thinks I’m overreacting. He told me to get over it because he has to spend the day with Chief Terry and didn’t have time for a fight.”

  “A fight, huh?” Thistle was blasé. “You two don’t really fight. You both pout until one of you apologizes. The problem you have is Landon’s huge ego.”

  I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, but couldn’t stop from listening even more. I too was at my limit with the male ego today.

  “Landon’s ego is not that big,” Bay argued, loyalty apparent despite her anger. “He’s a good man.”

  “He’s okay when he’s not threatening to arrest us,” Thistle corrected. “You need to crush his ego, though
. It’s out of control.”

  “I think that’s a man thing,” I interjected, realizing too late that I was letting them know I was eavesdropping.

  “What’s a man thing?” Bay asked blankly.

  “The ego thing,” I answered, opting to plow forward rather than retreat. “I had the same problem with Jack this morning. I’m pretty sure his ego is bigger than Landon’s.”

  “No one’s ego is bigger than Landon’s ego,” Thistle drawled.

  Bay ignored the dig about her boyfriend and focused on me. “I saw you and Jack arguing. What did he do?”

  “He decided to sit me down for a talk and explain why he wasn’t interested in me … even though I’m not interested in him,” I replied, the fury I thought forgotten rearing. “As if he’s so good looking that people can’t stop themselves from falling at his feet. It’s just so … ridiculous!”

  “I hear that,” Clove said. “When we first started dating Sam actually told me not to cry if he didn’t call me every single day, because he had a lot of work to do and he’d call as often as possible. Like I need someone to call me every day!”

  Thistle shot Clove a dubious look. “You do need someone to call you every day.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do, too.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do, too.”

  “Knock it off,” Millie ordered, shuffling closer. “Ladies, it’s a good thing I’m here. I’ve discovered the key to dealing with men over the years – and it’s nowhere near as difficult as you probably think. Do you want to hear it?”

  Bay shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It can’t be worse than Aunt Tillie’s advice to tie a man to the bed once a month and leave him there for a full twenty-four hours so he’s always thankful for his freedom and never gets clingy. What have you got?”

  Millie beamed. “I’m so glad you asked. Sit down. This is going to be a long conversation. You’ll thank me when I’m done.”

  Despite my misgivings, I was almost hopeful. “Lay it on us.”