Love on Loch Ness (4 page)

"Yes, but your five-feet-two stature will tell me just how big the Bigfoot was compared to the description the hikers gave."

She tried to stand up straight so her father could have an accurate representation, but it was hard to balance on the side of a cliff holding onto a birch tree. No wonder Mom had decided to stay and swim in the hotel's heated pool.

"Got it!" Her dad smiled as he helped her onto some semblance of a trail.

She almost asked him if they could go back, but seeing him so happy in his element made her bite her tongue.

He patted her arm. "Just wait a sec while I take some soil samples."

What was he looking for? Gail spotted a swell of vibrant purple in the ferns. A lady slipper! They were rare these days. She'd read about how the plant was on the "protected" list. She'd never seen one in person.

Gail stepped off the trail and picked her way through dense undergrowth toward the ridge. A whole bed of them had sprung up beneath an outcropping of granite. She bent down and touched one. The petal caressed her fingertip like satin. So delicate. So beautiful.

A shadow passed at the corner of her eye.

"Dad?"

No answer. She scanned the forest for his green rain poncho. A branch snapped, and leaves rustled above her. Heavy breathing from something with big lungs whispered in the misty air.

Gail shot up.

A dark patch lingered between two thick trees. Was it fur?

Her heart rate sped.
Dad was right. All this time Mom and I made fun of him, he was right.
Joy spread throughout her chest. She was so proud of him. He would always be her hero.

She froze, not wanting to scare the beast away or provoke it toward her. "Dad?" she whispered, backing up slowly. "Get over here."

Adrenaline pumped through her. Where did the creature come from? Where did they live? How come no one had ever seen one before? What made her so special to actually see one? Going on a hunt like this was the coolest thing ever. Her dad would be so proud.

"What is it, honey?" He might as well have had a microphone. His voice was so loud and sudden, the creature between the trees sprang into motion. Gail's heart sped as she pointed to the fur.

"Over there." The creature darted between trees, and Gail spotted an antlered head, then a rump as big as her pillow.

"That's quite a moose, sport! Good job." Her dad patted her on the back and scratched the stubble on his chin. He never shaved on vacation. "Now, let's look for some tracks."

Disappointment fell heavy and hard, stripping away her confidence and making her feel like the biggest fool to ever walk in the woods. It took all of her strength not to collapse to the mossy earth and trample all the lady slippers.

Believing was so much more fun. But when your hopes were crushed, it hurt so bad. She never wanted to put herself out there again. How could her dad put up with this day in and day out?

"Come on, sport. I found an indent over here."

She pushed through the branches. Her father knelt by a muddy hole in the ground. He'd dug in his backpack and pulled out his plaster mix to make a cast.

She wanted to tell him the imprint was just soil erosion from rainwater, that Bigfoot was just a story made up by people with nothing better to do than lie. But when he gazed at her and she saw the eagerness in his eyes, she smiled instead.

Gail put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. She wanted to play along for another day. "Good work, Dad."

Remnants

Flynn sat on the sofa, watching the flames in the fireplace cast shadows on Nessie's stone belly. The creature had to have been with them last night. That call was ancient history come to life. The sound prehistoric men heard while hunting on the prowl. It was primordial, ravenous, pining. It rattled his bones and shook his world. To Flynn that sound was magic.

Gail had used her equipment to call to the creature, and Nessie had responded. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to think, for a moment, you weren't alone after centuries of isolation. Had the beast recognized their bait before they could snap a picture?

Guilt zapped through his chest. Was he cruel to lure Nessie out for Tabitha's sake?

Flynn thought he'd heard someone at his door last night while he'd spoken with Tabitha. Tom had been snoring through the wall, so it must have been Gail. Had she overheard his conversation? Tabitha wasn't a subject he could talk about easily. He ate another spoon of cereal and glanced at the stairs. What was taking Gail so long?

The morning newspaper lay on the table and he riffled through the front pages. An article about Charles Fayette, the sport fisherman who illegally hunted all manner of endangered species, took up most of the right column. Before he could read if the local authorities had caught him, a door cracked open from upstairs. Flynn dropped his spoon into his cereal bowl.

Gail shuffled down the stairs dressed in a navy sweatshirt and white skinny jeans. Her hair was moussed and wet from the shower, tossed in gentle waves around her fine-boned face. Even with her little round glasses, she looked hot.

"Sleep okay?" Flynn set his bowl on the coffee table and stood.

"Yeah, like a rock." She looked away as if she hadn't meant it. "Where's Tom?"

"He went out early to take more footage of the lake." Flynn smirked. "Why? Do you miss him?"

"Very funny." She had a stern look on her face, but the corners of her lips twitched into a smile. "Do you have any more of that cereal?"

"Sure, I'll make you a bowl." Flynn jogged to the kitchen.

"Thank you. Bring it up to my room."

Flynn's heart sputtered. Her room? "Why?"

"There's something you've got to see."

The sputter turned into a full-fledged butterfly attack on his heart. Flynn almost dropped the cereal box on the floor. Either she wanted to show him her naked body, which would be fine with him, or she'd found a picture of Nessie from the drop camera's digital memory card — which would be not as good, but still fantastic.

Dreaming of both possibilities, Flynn brought the cereal bowl up to Gail's room. Her door was slightly ajar, but he knocked anyway.

"Come in."

Flynn pushed the door and stepped in. Gail sat on her bed using her computer, still wearing what she'd picked that day. Option one out of the question. Trying to not be disappointed, he settled in beside her and handed her the bowl. Option two was almost as good. "Did you find something?"

She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Look at this."

A snapshot of a massive conglomeration of decaying vegetation filled the screen.

"I don't see anything."

"You're not supposed to. Until you look at this same shot, two seconds later." She clicked on the arrow, and the same murky muck lay unchanged.

"I don't see—" Flynn ate his last word. "What is that?" He pointed to a glowing yellow orb in the bottom right corner.

"You tell me." Gail enlarged the image and a black slit appeared, slicing the yellow orb in half. When they looked even closer, the reflection of the front of the drop camera showed in the curve.

"Is it an eye?"

She took his hand and held it up to the screen. "If it is, then the eye would have to be the size of your hand to be at scale with what the drop camera picked up."

"Wow." She still held his hand. He didn't take it away. She could have it. "This is amazing."

"This is still only speculation."

"Of course, but what if Nessie is down there playing dead, so to speak? What if she came to check out the noise, but she knew it was us and hid?"

Gail dropped his hand and it flopped on the bed like a dead fish. "You're saying she's intelligent now, too?"

"She's survived all these centuries without being found. So yeah, I'd say she's developed great survival instincts."

Gail put her face in her hands. "Surviving centuries? I mean, sure, Bowhead whales live for centuries. Scientists found a nineteenth century harpoon inside a live one, and they estimate they can live for two hundred years. But you're talking since six hundred and sixty five AD. That's a lot longer than two hundred years. Do you know how ridiculous you sound?"

Flynn gave her his charming smile. It
usually
worked on women. "Only to you."

It didn't seem to work on Gail. She pulled out a notepad and scribbled Possibilities as the title on the blank page. "Let's talk about what else the image could be. Could someone have dropped a toy or a ball into the water?"

She wrote
ball
.

Flynn took the pen from her hand and crossed her word out. "Balls don't sink."

"Or a flashlight? Maybe a boat light that fell off?"

She took the pen back and wrote
light
.

"The battery would die." Flynn moved to grab the pen again, but she was quicker this time and held it away.

"Unless it was recent."

Flynn leaned toward her and wiggled his fingers at the pen as if he wanted it. "Why would the light blink off and on?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe the flashlight was dying right when the drop camera took the picture." Gail stashed the pen on the other side of the bed where he couldn't reach it. Unless he tackled her.

She clicked to the next image. "Two seconds later it's gone."

Breathing out in frustration, she crossed her arms. She looked more angry at the world than anything else.

Tackling her wouldn't be the best way to her heart. At least not right now.
Flynn leaned back on the bed, positioning himself against the wall, and folded his hands in front of himself, trying to behave. "I'll tell you what. Tonight we'll go back to that same spot and sweep the bottom. We'll bring up whatever's down there and have a look."

She clicked off the screen and ate a spoonful of cereal. "All right. I'll go with that."

As she turned around to turn off computer screen, Flynn reached over and took the pen. He scribbled one word next to the others on her notepad.
Eye.

The bed creaked under his weight, and Gail whirled around. Flynn leaned against the wall. He hid the pen underneath his hand.

She creased her brow and glanced down at the pad. Her eyes shot back up with fiery wrath. "Give me the pen."

"So you can cross it out? No."

"It's my pad of ideas."

"We're working together." He loved this new un-scientific facet to her, an inner rebelliousness.

She stuck out the palm of her hand. "Just give me the pen."

Flynn dangled it in front of him. "Come and get it."

"So we're five years old now, are we?"

He shrugged, not expecting her to go after it. She was so serious. He needed to have a little fun now and then. Flynn bit the end. "Guess you don't want it."

Gail lunged forward, surprising him with her speed and aggressiveness. Flynn grabbed her arm with his free hand. She moved in with the other hand, and he dropped the pen and took that one as well. She twisted in his grasp until they fell onto the bed. She wiggled one of her hands free and dug around him for the pen. Ticklish to a fault, he started hysterically laughing and reached out and tickled her on the stomach. She shrieked with laughter. That was the Gail Flynn wanted to get to know better.

"Did I miss something or are you guys just rolling around in the sack?"

They froze, twisted in each other's arms. Tom stood in the doorway with his toupee sideways. A smug grin curved his thick, mustached lips as if he wouldn't mind watching.

"We were researching a photograph." Gail shot up and grabbed her computer. She pulled her hair back and tied it in that tight ponytail Flynn didn't like as much, as if to say
enough fun, now down to business
.

"Sure you were." Tom put his hand on his hip and gave Flynn a thumbs-up.

Flynn recoiled with embarrassment and waved for him to put his thumb away. The last thing he wanted was to make Gail feel like a conquest in front of another man. A jerk, at that.

"Look here." Gail was back to full professional; the sweet smile he'd seen vanished from her lips. "And then again at this one."

Tom leaned over and squinted his beady eyes. A raw hunger stirred in the depths, making Flynn uneasy. "So, when are we going after it?"

Gail clicked the image and set it as her desktop. "Tonight."