Page 6

A quick check to make sure his hair was lying mostly where it was supposed to be, and then he locked the room and headed downstairs.

The B it looked as if the path that led away from the parking area and bordered the bed-and-breakfast’s grounds met up with a different trail about fifty yards or so past the property line, so it would probably be easy enough to get out there and get moving without having to drive to an actual trailhead.

That detail might have been noted on the inn’s website, but he’d been in a hurry when he’d looked it over and hadn’t gone into a lot of the details. No, he was just glad he’d been able to find a place to stay at all.

As he drove into Silver Hollow’s tiny downtown, he realized he probably could have walked, since the distance wasn’t much more than a quarter-mile. But he was here now, and he figured he’d tuck that snippet of information away and put it to use the next time he ventured out.

He’d spied a place called Eliza’s as he came into town, and since the sign said “Breakfast and Lunch” right below what he assumed was the owner’s name, he thought he might as well eat there, since it apparently wouldn’t be open for dinner.

Because it was getting to be a little late for the midday meal, he didn’t have any trouble finding a parking place right out in front.

After he made sure the CR-V was locked…not that he thought crime was much of a problem in this quaint, out-of-the-way spot…

he went inside the restaurant. The interior was full-on farmhouse, with painted wood floors and wooden tables and various cooking utensils used as sort of 3D art hanging on the walls.

A tall, slim woman with short-cropped blonde hair approached him. One very quick assessment as she seemed to take in his obviously citified attire, and then she said, “Late lunch?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Just got into town, as a matter of fact.”

Her mouth pursed, and he could practically hear her thinking that he hadn’t needed to provide that particular fact, not when everything about him screamed that he wasn’t from around here.

However, she sounded cheerful as she said, “Well, then, welcome to Silver Hollow. I’ve got a nice table up near the front so you can sit there and watch the world go by. ”

Ben kind of doubted that much of the world made it to the tiny town, but he understood what she meant as she led him over to the table in question.

Sitting there, he’d be able to spy everyone coming and going along the sidewalk, which would give him an even better feel for who lived there and what they might be up to on a given day.

“Thank you,” he said as she handed him a menu.

“Anything to drink?”

He would have liked a beer after the flight and the drive to Silver Hollow, but he had a feeling a place like this wouldn’t have a liquor license. “Some iced tea, please.”

The woman — whom he assumed must be Eliza, although she hadn’t introduced herself — headed behind the counter where a big dispenser of iced tea waited, then poured him a glass.

He guessed she was the only person minding the store right now, probably because the lunch rush was over and she didn’t appear to need any additional help.

Or maybe she did everything herself, at least during the slow season.

Ben didn’t know for sure when things would begin to pick up, but because even Southern California was often kind of gloomy at this time year, when “May gray” began to give way to “June gloom,” he guessed people would wait for the brighter, sunnier days of July and August and September.

And possibly even later. Although the forests around town seemed to be made up mostly of evergreens, there were still plenty of deciduous trees in Silver Hollow itself — which he’d read had been named after the stands of birches in the area — and he thought the place might be absolutely spectacular when they began to show their fall colors in October or even later.

Not that he planned to stick around nearly so long.

“Is there much to do around here besides hiking?” he asked Eliza when she returned with his iced tea.

Her mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Well, hiking is the main thing. You can also go kayaking — Bright Creek cuts through the forest about a half-mile outside town, and it’s pretty popular.

” She paused there, and something in her speculative gaze told him she didn’t think he looked like a candidate for hiking or kayaking or pretty much any other outdoor activity.

In a way, Ben thought that was kind of amusing, since he regularly went climbing in the San Bernardino National Forest just outside Yucaipa. Not to look for Bigfoot, of course, but just so he could get outside and clear his head.

However, he hadn’t packed any of those clothes for his trip to San Francisco, because of course he hadn’t thought he’d need them. The list of items he would probably have to pick up at the local outdoor store was becoming increasingly long.

At least he could use them as a tax write-off. He’d come here to do research for his YouTube channel, after all, and being properly outfitted was part of the job.

Now he just had to hope his accountant would also see it that way.

“Any local folklore I should know about?” he asked next, and Eliza’s expression immediately turned wary.

“‘Folklore’?” she repeated. “Like what?”

“Isn’t this Bigfoot country around here?”

At once, something about the set of her shoulders relaxed. “Oh,” she said with a chuckle. “I don’t know about that. I thought Bigfoot was sort of a Washington State kind of thing.”

He didn’t know the woman well enough to guess whether she was pretending to be obtuse or whether she really didn’t know anything. However, her instant caution seemed a little extreme for someone who had nothing to hide…which told him that maybe she did.

Asking about unicorn sightings point-blank probably wouldn’t be very useful. Ben decided he should just file away her reaction for closer examination later and instead continue their conversation as if he hadn’t trodden on delicate ground just a moment earlier.

“You’re probably right,” he said. “I suppose it was all the forests around here that got me thinking. Anyway, I’ll have the beef dip and a side salad.”

“Got it,” she replied, now looking infinitely relieved that he hadn’t asked for her input on any local Mothman sightings.

Not that he would ever do something like that. Everyone knew that the Mothman was strictly a West Virginia phenomenon.

Eliza told him his sandwich would be out in a few minutes and then escaped to the kitchen. Ben couldn’t think of her departure in any other way, not when he doubted she normally walked that quickly when taking an order to the cook.

Since she was safely gone, he allowed himself a smile.

After he ate, he’d walk down the street to the outdoor shop — he’d noted that it was only a block away as he pulled up to the café — and after that, maybe he’d stop by the library and see if they had a section on local folklore and history.

Considering how vague that one internet reference he’d found had been, he wasn’t too sanguine, but he figured he needed to start somewhere, especially since he didn’t think it would be a very good idea to set out on a hike when more than half the afternoon had already passed.

No, he’d take care of the mundane errands today, and tomorrow when he had more time, he’d do his best to see what the little town of Silver Hollow was really hiding.