Page 11

brAM

What was I thinking, grabbing Trevor’s hand like I have a right to hold it?

My hands tighten around my camera and I suck in a deep breath.

Frustration with myself mixes with the lingering sensation of his fingers intertwined with mine.

I need to pull myself together. This is an investigation. I’m a professional. We have a mystery to solve.

This is not the time for romance. And not with my best friend.

Yet, I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to kiss Trevor and how his hand fit in mine, how good it felt…

I glance to where he’s standing, only a few feet away, next to the log that jumpstarted the whole thing.

It would be so easy to drag him behind a tree and pull him close enough to feel the hard planes of his body pressed against me.

To sample his lips and find out if he tastes of the coffee he’s seldom without and the chocolates he keeps out for guests.

The two team members who called out that they’d found something are crouched by a pile of leaves. They wave me over, interrupting my fantasy.

Investigation. Professional. I’m a professional doing an investigation. And being the professional, I wave over Trevor.

“Trev, let’s see what they found.” I wait for him to join me before I walk away. We saw evidence of caves and areas that would make good dens, so I don’t want anyone left alone. Especially him.

The pair point to thin red strands of hair caught on a tree root.

I hand them an evidence bag from my pack. “Bag it and tag it. My first guess is that it’s deer. But we’ll have it checked.”

A ginger-haired man who looks like he could be another member of the Kelly family raises his hand. “I found what might be stone tools. Can I show you?”

Curiosity and excitement spark along my spine. There are stories of cryptids using stone tools similar to how some primates use rocks to crack or smash open nuts, shellfish, and other food. “Lead the way.”

He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s over here.”

Not far from the mouth of a cave, he stops and points to the base of a boulder jutting out of the mountainside.

A few rocks the size of a softball lie on the ground amid a handful of pistachio and peanut shells.

“I didn’t see them when I went in the cave to explore, but I noticed them right away when I came out. ”

Someone behind me gasps. “Wow!”

Crouching beside him, I shine my flashlight over the spot. “No shell or nut remnants are on the rocks, none that I can make out anyway. Without seeing it ourselves, we won’t know if someone or something dropped those shells here, or if they used the rocks. My gut says a hiker left these here.”

His shoulders slump. “Oh. ”

“It’s a good find. You’re really observant.” I clasp him on the shoulder. “What’s your name again?”

“Griffin Kelly. You can call me Grif.”

“Well, good job, Grif. I’d have you on my team again anytime.”

The person who’d gasped pushes past me, knocking me on my ass, and kneels by the shells with her phone’s camera app open. “It could be a cryptid. The only animals who use rocks in this way are primates. And there aren’t any monkeys in Vermont.”

“Pistachios and peanuts aren’t grown here either.

But there are plenty of hikers who eat nuts.

” His voice sharp, Trevor hauls me to my feet.

He meets my gaze and the flare of anger igniting in his brown depths is softened by the concern creasing the corners of his eyes.

I nod to indicate that I’m fine. Glaring at the back of the woman’s head, he steps in front of me and crosses his arms over his chest like a bodyguard.

“You’re probably right about it being a hiker.” Griffin dips his head. “The cave didn’t show any signs of being used. No hair, no scat, no bones. It wouldn’t make sense for something to bring the nuts here to eat if they weren’t also using the cave.”

There’s only one thing to do. “I’ll put a trail camera out here and see what it catches. I have a couple in my pack, backups in case the ones we put up for the investigation malfunction.”

He brightens, and his smiling features resemble Rory and Conall even more. “That’s a good idea.”

Still kneeling by the shells, the woman whips her head up. “I forgot you’d put up cameras.”

“We have eight spread across the search areas. The cameras were noted in the email you received with tonight’s details.

We also mentioned them before everyone set off from the campfire.

” I dig one out and attach it to the trunk of a nearby tree.

“I’ll leave this here for a week. That should be enough to catch anything coming or going. ”

Trevor’s camera catches a weasel moving toward a small stream. We follow it, looking for more tracks. He glances at Griffin, several feet in front of us, studying some leaves. “It’s nice you put up that camera for him.”

“It’s what we’re here to do.”

“I think that woman put those shells there. She seemed too enthusiastic. That ‘wow’ was like bad acting. And she looked guilty when you mentioned the cameras.”

I snort. “I had the same thought. And it’s another reason why I wanted the camera in place. There have been investigators caught faking evidence. People should be able to trust that what they’re seeing in an investigation is completely authentic.”

As the minutes tick by, Trevor and I spend time with each member of the team.

The people from out of town tell us about sightings they’ve had deep in the wilderness of national parks and swampy areas infested with alligators.

The locals talk about their Mabel sightings, and one guy tells us about a winged creature his dance teacher saw.

He’s here because he wants to experience something too.

We see some owls and get the occasional glimpse of a fox, and find tracks and paw prints of bears, wolves, rabbits, and coyotes.

A figure appears on my thermal imager, but most of its body is blocked by the trees. I show it to Trevor, then point toward the area. “I’m gonna check it out.”

He grabs the loop on the top of my backpack. “Buddy system, Bram. We’re gonna check it out.”

I nod, unable to hide my grin as Trevor and I cut through the grove of trees. He shines his flashlight on the ground, illuminating our path, while I continue to scan. The image disappears then reappears .

“Can you check with the night vision camera?” I take the flashlight so he can retrieve the camera.

The image pops up again, and Trevor is able to zoom in with his lens. “Coyote.”

Resting my hand on his shoulder, ready to put myself between him and whatever might be out there, I lean in and look through the camera. “Wow. Okay, well, we’re not going over there.” I tuck my thermal camera in my backpack.

The thing I love about being in the field is the adrenaline rush that comes with not knowing what I’ll be confronted with.

I’ve always been a stickler for safety protocols, especially when others are with me, but this new protectiveness, of wanting to keep someone safe and out of harm’s way is…

not necessarily unwanted, but different.

We retrace our steps. Part of the landscape has an incline that was less noticeable on the way up. My arms braced out for balance, I go first. My boots slip on the thick layer of leaves, and I grab onto every branch, tree, and boulder to slow my descent.

With his hand braced on a tree branch, one foot on a boulder, and the other on the messy ground, Trevor studies the path, then looks at me. “I thought waiting until you finished was safer.”

“Good thinking. Go slow. Tell me if you need more light.” I shine my flashlight’s beam over the area.

He shifts forward and then slides, and can’t grab hold of things fast enough to slow him down. Trevor pitches forward, his arms flail, and I rush up, hoping I can snatch hold of his jacket or arm, slow him down, and prevent a fall. But I slip and slide and he comes at me faster and faster.

“Bram,” his breathless word reaches my ears a millisecond before his body crashes into mine. Our arms band around each other and momentum propels us several stuttered steps into the trees. The backpack throws off my balance as my feet scramble for purchase.

We bang into the tall bare trunk of a towering pine with a thunk.

For a moment, the shock of our scary tumble overtakes everything else.

Trevor and I cling to each other. My heartbeat thunders in my ears.

We draw in gasping breaths, and I drop my head onto his shoulder, hugging him as I get my bearings.

“That’s one way to come down.” His shoulders shake with his laugh and he tightens his hold. “Sorry I took you down with me. You okay?”

My chuckle is softer, shakier, and filled with relief. “I’m fine. Happy to throw myself into your path. You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

His breath teases my ear. “I’m fine, but I think the snack bars in the front of my bag got squished.”

The area is quiet. Hushed. Pretty. Peaceful.

I raise my head and draw back so I can look at him. My breath catches in my lungs. Our faces are so close together. Trevor and I are still hugging each other. The shimmer in his eyes reminds me of starlight. He’s gorgeous, and feels so good in my arms.

The urge to kiss him throbs in every beat of my pulse. I give in to the temptation to cup his cheek. At the touch of my fingers, his eyes darken and he sucks in a breath. His gaze falls to my lips and his own part.

The seductive slither of desire catches me in its thrall. My cock hardens. Heat expands, licking tiny flames over my skin. My pulse comes faster.

Trevor tilts his head the smallest degree to the right, and I know that angle will slot our mouths together perfectly.

He’s close. So close.

I lean in.

His hands tighten on my shoulders. The press of his fingers pulls me closer.

A shrill whistle blows several yards away, followed by a second whistle to our north, signifying the end of the investigation.