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

  “I thought we would start off with a brief tour of the facility and then introduce you to the other members of the team.”

  “That sounds great.”

  The tour was like most tours … boring. I’d seen the state-of-the-art equipment before and I couldn’t exactly work myself into a frenzy when I saw the new all-terrain vehicles they were outfitting for jobs in remote locations. The EDI meters, infrared lights, EMF detectors and EVP recorders were nothing new. I’d been outfitted with all of them multiple times while in college and working an apprenticeship for a semester in London. I was most interested in the people, and I wasn’t disappointed when Chris led me into a large conference room where a group of bored-looking drones munched doughnuts and discussed the day’s events.

  “This is the team.” Chris grinned broadly as his gaze bounced between faces. “Team, this is Charlotte Rhodes. She’s our new associate.”

  “Charlie,” I corrected automatically, my cheeks burning when a couple of curious stares floated in my direction. “I go by Charlie.”

  “Charlie.” Chris’ grin widened. “So, we’ll start over here. This is Hannah Silver. She is an M.D. with a Ph.D. in cryptozoology and hominology. Her focus is on animals in the wild, and she can conduct an autopsy and DNA scan in a pinch. She’s utterly brilliant.”

  I didn’t miss the goofy smile Chris shot in Hannah’s direction. It looked as if I wasn’t the only team member with a crush. I couldn’t blame Chris. Hannah boasted silvery blond hair tied back in a bun, long legs and a slim frame. She managed to look smart and somehow busty at the same time. She must use a lot of underwire. No woman that thin should naturally have boobs that big. Despite her body, she looked as if she belonged in a white lab coat making important decisions to save the human race. It was probably the glasses, I told myself. They were simple black frames, and she looked effortlessly chic in them.

  I extended my hand in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too.” Hannah’s smile was legitimate, but she seemed distracted. “Chris, did you get my request for a new microscope? I need it before we head out on another job. The lens on my last one broke.”

  “I got it, and it’s being sent down from the seventh floor even as we speak.” Chris beamed, his expression wistful as he stared at Hannah. She seemed oblivious to his affection as she bobbed her head, happy to be getting a new toy, but unaware Chris was apparently hopelessly in love with her. “It should be here any second.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chris watched her shuffle away from the table for a moment before shaking his head and returning to the introductions. “This is Laura Chapman. Her father is Ben Chapman. He’s one of the vice presidents in the company and he heads the accounting division. As for Laura, she’s into metaphysical and holistic life coaching.”

  Hmm. That’s a thing? I didn’t know that was a real thing. The look the auburn-haired beauty shot me left no doubt about whether or not I should voice that opinion. I didn’t bother shaking Laura’s hand because I could tell it was the last thing she wanted. Instead I merely shoved my hands in the pockets of my cargo pants and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Laura curtly nodded her head. “And you. I understand you focused on telekinesis while studying. Any particular reason why?”

  The question was abrupt and took me by surprise. “I’ve always had an interest in that field,” I answered evenly. “Aren’t you interested in telekinesis?”

  “I don’t believe it really exists,” Laura replied, not missing a beat. “I look forward to lively debates, though. The whole point of this group is to discover what is real and what is legend, right?”

  She didn’t believe it existed? I could show her a thing or two. Of course, because I keep my abilities to myself – and plan to do so for the foreseeable future – there was no way I could do that. “Yes, well … .”

  Laura was already across the room talking to Hannah by the time I regrouped.

  “Don’t worry about her.” Chris forced out a dry chuckle. “Laura takes some time to warm up to people. She’s a little … cold.”

  That was a nice way of putting it. “That’s okay. Hannah seems like a dream. I don’t think one personality makes up an entire group. If that were the case, well, things would get boring pretty quickly, wouldn’t they?”

  “Definitely.” Chris patted my shoulder as he directed me toward the far corner of the room, where a black man in his fifties sat nursing a mug of coffee while a white woman, also in her fifties, studied her reflection in a pocket mirror. “This is Millie Watson and Bernard Hill. Bernard is our mechanic and general Mr. Fix-It. If anything breaks, take it to him.”

  I liked Bernard on the spot, and it had nothing to do with the way he winked and shot me a thumbs-up. Okay, almost nothing. “Hi.”

  “Don’t you worry, you’ll figure everything out and feel as if you’ve been part of the team forever pretty quickly,” Bernard offered between sips of coffee. “It might seem overwhelming now, but we’re pretty easy to get along with.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Millie interjected, sighing as she ran a hand through her bottle blond hair. The woman was eccentric looking. There was no other way to put it. She ratted her hair as if the 1980s trend never went out of style, wore the brightest red lipstick I’d ever seen – which happened to clash with her pink satin coat – and the black liquid eyeliner clouding both her upper and lower lids looked as if it had been drawn on while Millie was drunk. Given the way she smelled, I couldn’t be sure that wasn’t the case. “I happen to think we’re extremely difficult to get along with.”

  “That’s just you,” Bernard said, chuckling as he patted her hand. He seemed fond of the boisterous woman. “Don’t mind Millie. She’s hungover, and she enjoys taking it out on other people.”

  Well, that answered that question. “Are you hungover often?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “As often as humanly possible,” Millie replied, unbothered as she lifted her arm and sniffed her pit. “Seriously … it’s coming out of my pores.”

  “Drink something lighter next time,” Bernard suggested.

  “That’s probably a good idea.” Millie looked tired when she focused on me again. “Welcome to the team. I can already tell I’m going to like you more than I do Laura.”

  Chris’ smile, which had remained firmly in place for the entire tour, slipped. “Millie, you know you’re not supposed to cause trouble with her. She’ll report you to Human Resources – as she always does – and then Uncle Myron will come down and yell.”

  “You send Myron to me,” Millie suggested. “I’ll handle him. We both know he won’t fire me.”

  “He won’t?” Wrapping my head around the group dynamic was an ongoing effort, but I was keen to know the ins and outs of the relationships. “Why is that?”

  “Because he’s my ex-husband,” Millie replied, not missing a beat. “If he fires me he’ll have to pay alimony, and there’s no way he’ll do that.”

  My mouth dropped open as I considered the statement. “I … um … .”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Chris said, patting my arm as he chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. Uncle Myron and Mille have a … unique … relationship.”

  “We do,” Millie agreed. “He hates me, but still loves me. I hate him, but tolerate him because I’m fond of the boy.” She jerked her thumb in Chris’ direction. “We have a very uncomfortable relationship, but I enjoy it because torturing Myron is one of my few joys in life. Well, that and Jell-O shots.”

  “Oh, well, that sounds fun.” At first glance I wasn’t sure what to make of Millie. Within a few moments of talking to her I knew she was bound to be one of my favorite people ever. She was refreshing … and not only because she obviously didn’t give a flying fig what anyone thought about the way she carried herself or dressed. “I’m very glad to meet both of you.”

  “Oh, you need to work on your lying, honey,” Millie tsked, shaking her head. “You�
��ll have to get much better at it if you expect to survive this group.”

  I’d been lying my entire life, keeping my abilities secret. I didn’t think I’d suddenly start having a problem now. “I’ll consider it.”

  “And here is the final member of our team,” Chris said, shifting his gaze to the open door where another man – this one taller and darker than Chris – stood in the doorframe. “Charlie Rhodes, this is Jack Hanson. He’s former military and handles all of our security.”

  “In other words, if he yells ‘duck’ do it and don’t ask why,” Millie suggested, winking at Jack. “Isn’t that right, hot stuff?”

  Jack, his shoulder-length black hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, ignored the question and focused on Chris. “We just got an assignment from upstairs,” he said, his face blank. “We have a job … and it’s hot.”

  Chris was suddenly all business. “Where … and what?”

  “Someone claims that Bigfoot is killing people in Michigan,” Jack replied. “Apparently the cops thought this was right up our alley and want us to lend our scientific opinion.”

  “Bigfoot?” Chris’ face split with a wide grin. “You’re kidding?”

  “I’m not kidding.” Jack’s dark eyes briefly landed on my face before shifting back to Chris. “Everyone needs to pack up. We’re out of here in thirty minutes.”

  “All right!” Chris pumped his hand in the air. “This is the big one, folks. This is what we’ve been waiting for. Grab your gear and meet by the elevator in thirty minutes. You got that?”

  Various team members murmured their assent as I focused on Jack. “You know how to make an entrance, huh?”

  Jack’s lips curved. “I don’t do subtle.”

  “Probably not. You said Michigan. Where in Michigan are we going?”

  “A little town called Hemlock Cove,” Jack replied. “It’s supposed to be wacky and weird. I figured that fits this group perfectly.”

  “It sounds as if that’s definitely the case.” I could barely contain my excitement. “Here we go, huh?”

  Jack didn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic as I felt. “Yeah. Here we go.”

  2

  Two

  “Tell me about Hemlock Cove.”

  Chris sat in the passenger seat of the rented Chevy Tahoe and cast an expectant look in Jack’s direction as the younger man navigated the rutted two-lane blacktop that led toward the small Michigan hamlet.

  “It’s wacky,” Jack replied, his tone dry.

  Chris cocked a dubious eyebrow. “Wacky? Can you be more specific?”

  I sat in the back seat next to Millie and glanced at her to see if she was following the conversation. The wackiness level of Hemlock Cove was apparently the furthest thing from her mind, though, because she was fast asleep. She slept during the entire plane ride to Michigan – the Legacy Foundation boasts its own private plane – and barely woke long enough to climb into the Tahoe at the airport before Jack sped away. Bernard, Laura and Hannah rode in a second vehicle with the bulk of our equipment. I wasn’t upset about the driving configuration because it meant I didn’t have to spend more time with Laura.

  “The town used to be called Walkerville,” Jack volunteered. “Several years ago they decided to turn their misfortune into a tourist trap. It seems that when the manufacturing base dried up the town council decided to rebrand. They’ve turned the town into a magical refuge for geeks who like witches, wizards, ghosts and other odd stuff like that.”

  I leaned forward, intrigued. “They rebranded the town as magical? But … how?”

  Jack shrugged, not bothering to meet my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Something about everyone in town being witches and wizards and stuff. They have a boatload of festivals from what I can gather. Information on the town isn’t exactly flowing because it has one newspaper – The Whistler – and it’s a weekly. I looked through about eight previous editions. Each one was essentially an advertorial for a festival.”

  “Sounds kind of fun,” I admitted. “Is anyone there really a witch?”

  Jack’s swivel was slow and I couldn’t help but worry about him ignoring the road so he could pin me with a hard look. “You believe in witches?”

  I nodded without hesitation. “How can you do this job if you don’t believe in witches?”

  “It’s not too difficult.”

  Chris chuckled as he shifted in his seat. “Don’t let Jack get to you, Charlie. He’s a non-believer.”

  “Then why does he work with us?”

  “Because he’s good at what he does, and we need a solid security guy in place on many of our jobs,” Chris replied, matter-of-fact. “Jack knows what he’s doing and he’s loyal. If he doesn’t happen to believe the same things we do … well … it’s not the end of the world.”

  It sounded like the end of the world to me. Of course, I wasn’t in charge of hiring. “What about the residents of Hemlock Cove, though?” I pressed. “Do any of them claim to really be witches?”

  “Not that I can tell.” Jack appeared to be amused by the question, his fingers light as they tapped the steering wheel. “It seems to be one big in-joke. The entire town plays a part in it. The town pretends it’s magically imbued by some great power. The tourists eat it up. The shops are theme stores and there are kitschy bakeries and tons of inns in the area. It must be working for them.”

  Something about the story didn’t make sense. “So someone was killed by Bigfoot in a town run by witches? You don’t find that strange?”

  “Fair point,” Jack conceded. “Michigan has a lot of Bigfoot legends. I saw a few of them when I ran a cursory search before packing for the trip. I plan to continue later tonight if I get the chance.”

  “I read up a bit on the plane,” Chris offered. “Most people in the area agree something lives in the woods, but they don’t call it Bigfoot. I’m not a fan of that name either. I prefer hominid or hominid-like creature. I can even tolerate Sasquatch. As for Michiganders, though, they call it the Dog Man.”

  I rubbed my cheek as I absorbed the statement. “It’s essentially Bigfoot, though, right?”

  “We don’t know what it is,” Chris answered. “I don’t like jumping to conclusions until I get more information. This is your first case, so you’re bound to be excited. I can forgive anything when it’s accompanied by enthusiasm. I get that you will be bouncing all over the place. Just don’t let your excitement get the better of you.”

  “I’ll try to refrain,” I said dryly, lifting my chin as the town ahead took shape. There wasn’t much to it – two main roads and a handful of businesses – but what I could see was downright adorable. “Oh, wow! It’s cute.”

  “That’s not how I’d describe it,” Jack said, his eyes shifting to Hemlock Cove’s main drag as he navigated through the sparse town. “There’s no gas station.”

  “Yeah, um, I believe there’s one on the south side of town,” Chris offered. “I looked at a regional map on the plane, too. The inn we’re staying at is a good ten miles from the gas station, so keep that in mind so we don’t run out of gas.”

  “Yes, that would suck,” Jack muttered.

  “Especially if the Dog Man is out there to get us,” I teased, smiling as we stopped at a light near a cute magic shop named Hypnotic. The sign in the window said “Drink Up, Witches” and featured a painted silhouette of a witch sitting in a martini glass. “I love this place.”

  “You haven’t even seen this place,” Jack countered, annoyance evident in his voice. He clearly wasn’t a fan of unrestrained enthusiasm. I refused to let that bother me despite his determination to be a killjoy.

  “I’ve seen enough,” I said, smiling at the picturesque town square. “Look. There’s a festival going on. I wonder what it’s for.”

  “It’s spring, so it’s probably a spring fling or something,” Chris noted. “Look. They have a kissing booth. I haven’t seen one of those since I was a kid.”

  “They also have an old lady running around in
a combat helmet,” Jack observed, pointing at an elderly woman in camouflage fatigues as she scurried through the parking lot that led to the newspaper office. “Holy cripes! That woman has a shotgun in her hand.”

  “And a whistle,” I added, grinning. I had no idea what the woman was doing – or why she was going into the newspaper office – but I was a big fan of eccentric personalities. “What do you think she needs the whistle for?”

  “Probably to tell Bigfoot she’s coming after him,” Jack replied. “That’s probably why she’s carrying the gun, right?” He looked worried when he asked the question, tilting his head when he saw a blond woman appear at the newspaper door. She made big gestures as she talked to the older woman with the gun, but she didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger.

  “She’s cute,” Chris noted.

  “The woman with the gun? Just darling,” Jack muttered.

  “Not her.” Chris chuckled, genuinely amused. “I was talking about the blonde. Perhaps I’ll have to stop in at the newspaper office for some research.”

  “Won’t that cut into the time you spend mooning over Hannah?” Jack asked, not missing a beat.

  For some reason I couldn’t identify, my stomach rolled. Having Chris’ crush on Hannah verified was mildly disappointing. It’s not as if I took the job to find a boyfriend, I reminded myself. I wanted to do something important, something that would lead me to answers about my own abilities. Still, a little eye candy never hurt anyone. If that eye candy belonged to someone else, though, that was a different story.

  “I don’t ‘moon’ over Hannah.” Chris’ cheeks burned bright as he stared out the passenger window. “Geez. Why would you say that?”

  “I’ve got eyes,” Jack replied, turning his attention to the GPS unit on the dashboard. “According to this, we need to stay on this road until we see a lighthouse. That’s where we park. Then we hike a bit behind the lighthouse to find the body. The police chief will be waiting for us.”