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When Nature Calls Page 8
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Page 8
“It’s true.” He glances down the hallway where Ceri and Jess disappeared. “She’s become pretty obsessed with these disappearances, and I’m starting to get worried about her. I know she’s an adult, and I keep telling myself that she can take care of herself, but she’s still my daughter, so...” He shrugs.
Russ focuses the camera on the sheriff’s face.
“How about we start with telling the audience who you are and how long you’ve lived in this town?” I ask.
He grimaces. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yup. It helps our viewers connect with you and establish your authority.”
“Do you really think this will help?”
“It can’t hurt. We like to give a human face to all of our cases. I mean, that’s at the root of all this, isn’t it? Humanity, with a healthy dose of paranormal and mystery.”
“Okay, fine,” he says. “My name is Jerry Sinclair, and I’ve been the sheriff of Atopka, Oklahoma for nearly four years. I’ve lived here all my life, and I wouldn’t live anywhere else in the world.” That explains the accent.
“Is this area known for a lot of people disappearing?”
“No, but accidents happen. People get lost, mostly hunters or tourists who want to explore the woods. Most of Oklahoma’s grass and desert, so forests like ours are a sight to behold. We have trees, gullies, canyons, and rivers, and tourists love that. They also love antique hunting, and we have some great stores for that, too. In fact”—his chest puffs out with pride—“our whole economy is based around tourism. If it weren’t for the tourists coming in, I don’t know how we’d survive. We’re just a small town, and nothing really bad happens around here. Sure, we have a few domestic issues, a little bit of drugs, and stupid kids who think they can get away with anything they want, but we’re a quiet town. We don’t like a lot of attention, especially the negative kind.”
“And disappearing hikers could put you guys into the spotlight.” His unwillingness to talk makes more sense now. He loves his town and doesn’t want anything to jeopardize it. A rogue Bigfoot slaughtering tourists wouldn’t be good for the town’s image.
“Exactly.” Sheriff Sinclair leans back and laces his fingers in front of his stomach. For a second, he reminds me so much of Officer Fontaine back in Oak Cliff that I almost laugh.
“Have you ever heard any local legends of a Bigfoot-like creature?”
His lips twitch in a frown. “Of course, we all did growing up, but it’s just an old wives’ tale. Bigfoot isn’t real. You know that, right?”
Russ shifts the camera from the sheriff to me to get my reaction, and then back to the sheriff again.
“George Smith doesn’t seem to think so.”
The sheriff barks out a laugh. “That old coot? I should have figured you’d run into him eventually. He’s as crazy as they come.”
“He didn’t seem that crazy to me,” I say carefully, gauging his reaction.
The sheriff’s eyebrow kicks up a notch. “Did you see his collection?”
We nod.
“And you believed him? I think he’s reading too much into normal signs, or someone’s playing a prank on him. Everything he has is purely circumstantial. He’s been carrying that box around for years, trying to get someone to take him seriously. We’ve all seen what’s inside. The hairs could be from a bear and the footprints faked. Just because he says it’s from a Bigfoot, doesn’t mean it was.”
When he says it like that, I feel like an idiot, but I can’t let it show. “I don’t know,” I say. “We’ve seen a lot of paranormal phenomena that can’t be easily disproven, and he has more concrete evidence than most.”
“God almighty,” he says, scrubbing one of his hands through his hair. “He showed you the bag of Bigfoot crap, didn’t he?”
My face must burn a thousand shades of red at the derision in his voice. I didn’t tell him that I’d touched it—well, the bag, but that’s as close as I want to get to some mystical creature’s crap.
“And I bet you’re going to broadcast that, aren’t you?” The sheriff scrubs a hand through his short salt-and-pepper hair.
Russ taps the camera with his free hand. “Just like we’ll broadcast this interview. This is your shot to set the record straight.”
He chuckles. “Now you sound like a reporter.”
My lips twitch. “That’s a big part of what we do. Once we take a case like the one your daughter sent us, we do our best to conduct a thorough investigation, by talking to witnesses, investigating the scenes of purported paranormal happenings, and presenting all of the evidence, even if we don’t find anything—and even if it turns out to be a hoax.”
“And that’s happened?” he asks. The sheriff pulls out a small handheld notebook and starts jotting down notes. Now, who’s interviewing whom?
“More than you’d think. Sometimes it’s accidental, like a faulty camera or crappy electrical wiring, but every once in a while, people plan these elaborate fake hauntings and try to get them past us. Russ is great at ferreting those out, but sometimes it takes an actual investigation to get to the truth.”
“Have you investigated something like Bigfoot before?”
“No. We’ve always stuck to ghosts, but we’ve been getting more and more emails about expanding our reach, so here we are.”
“And here you are.” His voice is flat. I’m sure he wishes we’d found someplace else for our inaugural foray into cryptids, and I can’t say I blame him much.
“So what can you tell us about the disappearances?”
“Not much that isn’t classified. What do you know?”
I quickly tell him about the research we’ve done and what led us to the debris in the canyon. Not that he didn’t ask us all that in our earlier interview, but it’s good to restate that and get it on camera for our audience.
“So you really were just out there looking for clues?”
I nod. “That’s it. We research and conduct investigations. Sometimes we find things, and other times, we don’t.”
From the edge of the hall, Ceri and my sister, with Bear in tow, tiptoe behind the sheriff and through the kitchen. I wonder what they’re up to and almost say something, but Jess puts her finger to her lips, so I keep quiet. The sheriff isn’t the only one with a good poker face.
Okay, it’s time to get back down to business. “So is there anything you can tell us about what’s going on?”
He hesitates as if rifling through the facts in his head, trying to sift through what I could potentially find out for myself if only I dug deep enough, and what could compromise the investigation. “Just that it doesn’t look like any of the missing people knew each other. And when we searched for them, there were no signs of foul play. They were just... gone.” I can sense the frustration in his voice, and that makes me empathize with him. This is a tough case to solve, especially if you don’t have any bodies.
“So the only thing linking these cases is the fact that they’re all missing?”
He nods. “Exactly. We’ve looked into each of their backgrounds, and there’s nothing connecting them that we can find. No missing link. In fact, with the most recent disappearances, we’re not entirely sure there is anything wrong, as the people in question have been known to take long camping excursions. It could all just be a strange set of coincidences.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Do you really believe that? There are an awful lot of missing people in one small area for it not to be connected. Have you looked into maybe there being a serial killer in the area?” I shudder at the thought. We can handle ghosts and the occasional creepy uncle, but a serial killer is way over our heads.
The sheriff scowls. “This is why I told Ceri it was such a bad idea to talk to you. You’re just going to spread rumors and hysteria. I don’t need people to panic. I need them to stay calm and let us do our jobs.”
I hold my hands up. “I’m sorry. You’re right, that was a stupid question. Can we keep going? I only have a couple more questions.”<
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He purses his lips but returns to his seat. “Fine. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I go fishing.”
“Okay. Thanks. Now, I know you can’t give me any specific details about any of the cases, but has anyone reported any strange paranormal phenomena going on around town, maybe around the time those people disappeared?” It’s a stretch, but I have to try.
He snorts. “No one reported any little green men or poltergeists, if that’s what you’re asking.”
It was worth a shot. “What about Bigfoot?”
Jess, Bear, and Ceri creep from wherever they disappeared to back down toward Ceri’s room. Jess gives me a huge grin and a big thumbs-up. She must have found something. Hopefully, she’s had better luck than I have.
Sheriff Sinclair throws his head back and laughs. “You are persistent, aren’t you? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but no one called in a report of a big, hairy monster prowling the outskirts of town.” He pauses. “Well, actually, now that I think about it, I did get one call.”
My pulse starts racing, and I barely resist the urge to hurry him along.
“But we debunked it pretty easily.”
And there it goes, my heart, plummeting into my stomach.
“It was the neighbor of our most illustrious citizen, your buddy George Smith. If you’re looking for a strange, hairy man wandering around the woods, there’s your man.” Mirth fills his eyes.
I grimace. I doubt we’re going to get anything else out of him—that much, I can tell. “Thank you for your time, Sheriff. We really appreciate it.”
“Of course.” He stands, and we follow suit. “Hey, about how long are you going to be in town?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, as long as it takes to finish our investigation.” Is he trying to get rid of us, too? Maybe he and the Henry clan can form an anti-BPI fan club.
His lips thin. “Hopefully soon, you’ll realize there’s nothing to investigate here. It’s all old wives’ tales and loosely linked disappearances.”
“I don’t know about that, Sheriff,” I say with a forced lightness. “We have a pretty good track record for figuring out the truth in these sorts of situations.”
“Well, I hope for your sake there isn’t anything to find.”
I tilt my head to regard him. “What do you mean by that?” Interesting choice of words there, Sheriff.
“I mean that it’s dangerous for city kids like you to go wandering around in the woods. There are wild animals out there, and dangerous terrain. You could get lose, and then I’ll have to investigate three more disappearances, and I’ve got enough on my plate.”
Chapter 14
“Why are you so happy?” I ask Jess, side-eying her as she slides into the passenger seat, grinning.
“You’ll see,” she says, but her excitement bubbles to the surface.
I pull out of the driveway and head back toward the closed-down motel. I guess, in a way, it’s turned into our de facto home base until we find someplace else.
“It better be good,” Russ says. “We didn’t get much out of our interview.”
Jess scratches the scruff behind Bear’s ears. “Oh, it is. Where are we going?”
“The old hotel. Got a better idea?”
“Nope, just curious.” She pulls out her phone, and her fingers fly over the screen.
“Got a hot date?” Russ leans between the seats, trying to see over her shoulder. She elbows him and turns so he can’t see anything. “Ow,” he mutters, rubbing his side.
“No, I’m texting Ceri, you idiot. She asked me to let her know where we’re going so she can meet us there.”
“Is this about whatever it was you two were sneaking around for?” I ask.
She nods. “Ceri said her dad was in his office before we showed up. I suggested that we go have a look around to see if we can find any information related to the case.”
“You what?” My hands jerk on the steering wheel, pulling us over the centerline before I can swerve back. “What the hell, Jess? You broke into the sheriff’s office? You are so going to get us arrested.”
Jess folds her arms in front of her chest. “I am not. Besides, it’s not breaking and entering if Ceri lives there. The door wasn’t even locked. He’ll never know we were there.”
“I don’t know. I think it was a great idea,” Russ says. “Did you find anything?”
Jess shrugs. “She took a bunch of pictures with her phone and says she’ll forward them to me. I didn’t really have a lot of time to go through everything. I was looking for stuff for our case.”
“You found the case file?” Russ asks.
“Yeah, it was right on top of his desk. You know, for being in law enforcement, the guy doesn’t hide things very well.”
“Or maybe he never thought his own daughter would break into his office and take pictures of the evidence,” I add.
“Whatever,” she says. “You’ll be glad I did that, as soon as you see what Ceri found.”
We pull into the derelict parking lot. “So where is she?”
Jess glances at her phone. “Around back.”
“Let’s just hope her daddy isn’t watching her,” I mutter. “Then we can add our mug shots to the website.”
“You forgot to say thanks Jess, for getting pictures of the case files,” Jess says, flipping her long purple-and-black hair over her shoulder.
“Thanks, Jess,” I say, gritting my teeth. Yeah, I’m glad she did it, but I don’t like her putting herself in danger like that.
Luckily for us all, there’s only one other car in the parking lot. Tucked next to a shot-out parking lot light, Ceri waits next to her car.
“My dad lied,” she crows as soon as we get out of the car.
She’s excited about that? How strange.
“About what?” Russ fumbles with the GoPro to get it up and running before he misses anything good. Maybe Jess was right, for once.
I clip Bear’s leash to his collar and set him down. “What did you find?”
Ceri reaches inside her car and pulls out a couple folded pieces of paper. “I didn’t have time to print out the pictures I took, but I did write down the information. Look.” She shoves the papers at me.
With Russ videotaping over my shoulder, I open the papers. Names. Seven of them, to be exact, and none of them were on our our earlier list. “Are these more people who disappeared?”
“Yup, though some of them were found dead,” she says. “All from the last ten to twenty years. So this thing has been going on a lot longer than my dad is telling us. He knows it too, but he won’t admit to it.”
I shake my head, staring at the names until they’re seared into my memory. “Are you sure this isn’t a coincidence? I mean, seven people found dead over two decades doesn’t make this one a serial-killer case.”
“What’s your explanation, then? I know people get lost and killed in small towns, but not this often.”
Jess gestures for the list, so I hand it to her.
A light dawns in Ceri’s eyes. “You know who would know more about it?”
“Who?” Hopefully it’ll be someone more willing to talk to us than they have been, or at least someone who’s not involved with the cops.
“My ex-boyfriend, Buck.”
“The guy from the bait shop?” Russ chuckles. “You dated that guy?”
Ceri grimaces. “It was a long time ago. Don’t judge me. I was a lot younger and stupider then.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Russ asks. “Let’s go find Buck. It’ll be fun.”
Chapter 15
The door to the bait-and-tackle shop dings when we file inside. Ceri leads the way, even though she drags every step. I don’t blame her for not wanting to come because I don’t either, and I didn’t date the guy.
The musty fishy smell seems worse than it did before. I’m enveloped in the rotten scent, and I’m sure I’m going to have to wash my clothes several times to get rid of it. The barrels full of bait fish still bubble,
but there’s no one at the front counter.
“Buck?” Ceri calls, her voice ringing through the seemingly empty store. “Are you here?” She turns to us. “I saw his truck outside, so he can’t have gone too far.”
“Ceri?” Buck says, his gruff voice coming from the back of the store. “What are you doing here?” He saunters from the back room with his thumbs hooked in the loops on his jeans, a smirk on his face belying the shiner on his left eye. Jesus, he hadn’t had that before. Where’d he find the time to get into a fight? “I always knew you would come back,” he says. “You still have the—” His words die when he sees the rest of us. “You guys are back, too? I thought you were leaving town.” His face reddens. I wonder if he’s remembering how he showed up at our campsite and tried to get us to drink with him. If so, he should be embarrassed. He’s lucky I didn’t knee him in the balls for that stunt.
“I’m not here to rekindle our relationship, dumbass,” Ceri snaps. “We just wanted to ask a few questions about the disappearances.”
Buck’s gaze shutters. “I don’t know nothing about that.”
Ceri leans against the counter, her long hair brushing the linoleum. “Come on. You know these hills better than anyone else. If there was something strange going on, you’d know about it.”
Buck rolls his shoulders back and cracks his knuckles. “I do know these woods really well, but I haven’t seen any missing people.” He slants a glance at me. “Or any Bigfoots, either. I think you guys are wasting your time.”
Ceri asks him a few more questions while Jess and Russ putz around the store until even she gives up. It’s obvious by his curt tone and short answers that he’s not willing to tell us anything, or even if he knows something he’s not saying.
Right before we’re about to leave, Trapper comes out. He says a few words to his brother, and Buck disappears into the back. I seize the moment to ask him about the sightings.
Trapper glances down the hall where his brother disappeared and gulps. “I-I-I haven’t seen no Bigfoot.”