Page 2

“This thing was much bigger than a standard black bear. Things are happening here and we need to find out why.” She sips her tea and gives it an approving nod. “This is lovely, Jo. Thank you.”

Confusion about why she came to us for help with this buzzes through my brain. I take a bite of my bar and follow it with another mouthful of coffee. “Did you reach out to Bram? I know he was filming an investigation in Washington state last week. I think he got home today.”

Bram is my best friend, a cryptid enthusiast with a podcast that relays myths and investigates sightings all around the country, and he’s also Agnes’s great-nephew.

“I was going to tell him once he was back home. And there’s more,” she scoots forward in her chair, “I was sharing the story with my gardening club yesterday, and one of them also had a sighting. Something growling and howling like a wolf-man.”

“A wolf-man?” Jo shakes her head in disbelief. “It could’ve been an actual wolf. Or maybe one of their plants is a hallucinogenic?”

My cup halfway to my mouth, I point to her. “That’s happened before. The garden club’s tea party last summer, remember? You called us, convinced you and the girls were giant flowers.”

As she sips her tea, Agnes waves away that suggestion.

“We were thinking, with the rash of sightings, plus our beloved Mabel, the town should capitalize on them. Wouldn’t it be great to have a specific event or festival for cryptids?

Hosting it in October makes sense, since everyone has Halloween on the brain. ”

I swallow the last of my apple bar. “People love the myths about Mabel. I’m surprised there hasn’t already been a festival for her.”

“I agree.” Agnes gives me a smile. “I think we need to strike while the iron, or should I say, the cryptids, are hot. So I ran the idea by Bo Boyd when I saw him at Red’s diner an hour ago.

And he agrees we should hold one this year.

You know how involved in the festivals he is and how hard he works to make sure the town’s residents are happy. ”

Jo’s brows draw together as she sinks onto the couch. I wonder if she’s thinking what I am, which is how hard did Agnes twist the community development guy’s arm to get him to agree to this. “Okay…”

Agnes sets her cup onto its saucer. “So it’s settled. We’d like you to host the event, Trevor.”

Surprise shoots through me, startling the mug in my hand. Coffee sloshes up the sides. I grip the mug tight as my thoughts whirl. “Me? Look, I believe Mabel is real, but I’m not a host.”

“Nonsense. You host events here all the time.”

“Having spaces for weddings, cooking classes, and corporate retreats, and taking care of hotel guests isn’t the same thing as hosting an event like you’re talking about.

” Though throwing things together at the last minute gives me hives, I could plan an event, but the biggest reason is…

“I’m not the right person for this. Bram is. ”

Agnes clasps her hands over her chest, the hammered-metal ring Bram got her when we toured Italy last summer shines bright against her black sweater.

“I’d love for Bram to be here. I haven’t seen my great-nephew in far too long.

But he’s not a local, dear. He hasn’t lived here in what, twenty-five years?

We need a Maplewoodian involved.” She pauses and her eyebrows wing up.

A slow smile spreads across her ruby-painted lips and she points a bony finger at me. “You and Bram should host it together.”

Together. My mouth goes dry at the thought.

“It would be perfect. The two of you together again.” Agnes claps her hands as though this is the best idea she’s had in her life.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and refrain from reminding her that she also thought having her garden club grow catnip to repel deer was a good idea. Unfortunately, Maplewood ended up with a bunch of stoned cats and a gang of possums with the munchies breaking into everyone’s garbage cans .

Jo stands, then heads for the reception desk and grabs her tablet. “I love it. The event is a good idea. Let’s check which weekend has the most openings.” She returns, pulling up our upcoming reservations as she takes her seat. “The second weekend in October is the best option.”

My fingers tap the sides of the mug. It’s been an expensive year, with upgrading the heat and A/C in both the carriage house and here in the mansion, and replacing several of the carriage house’s windows.

Thanks to the cost of the heat and A/C, we had to hold off on replacing the mansion’s roof, but that should be done sooner rather than later. We need all the bookings we can get.

Okay, so maybe this is one of Agnes’s better ideas.

“People might get inspired at the event and want to book again with us if they come back to do more investigations.” Possibilities of promotion and marketing and what it could mean for the inn, and for Maplewood, whirl in my head.

“We can offer a package for the inn with some cryptid-related items, and see if some of the restaurants want to take part.”

Agnes’s smile is pure victory. “So you’ll do it?”

There’s no way I’ll tell Agnes no. If she and her octogenarian cohorts want something done, everyone in town makes it happen.

Bandit nudges my ankle with his nose and I scratch the spot behind his ears that makes his eyes grow heavy until he lies back down, his head resting on my shoe.

“I’ll do it. And I’ll check in with Bram.

He might be too busy to come. This isn’t giving him much notice. ”

Leaning back in the chair, Agnes crosses her leg, her leather pants riding up to show off chunky black biker boots, with an air of one who is an expert on a topic. “He’d never say no to you, dear.”

I don’t know if that’s true. We haven’t asked that much of each other over the years. We’re always there for each other, but is that the same thing? The way she’s looking at me, like she knows a secret I don’t, is unnerving, and I rub at the prickling on the back of my neck.

Agnes tugs her jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll contact Bo and let him know you’ve agreed to take this on. The house decorating contest starts the following week, so Cryptid Night will be the kickoff event for Halloween. The sooner the festival committee has everything, the better.”

Cup in hand, I stand and pat my thigh so Bandit knows to follow me. “I’ll call Bram now. See if he’s available and what we can put together. And I’ll reach out to Bo with details.”

Settling her jacket over her thin shoulders, Agnes stands. “Ask if Bram will stay for a bit and look into these new sightings too.”

“Will do.” I walk with her toward the front door, Bandit trotting behind us.

Tapping a note into the tablet, Jo looks up from the screen. “You should take some vacation days so you can spend time with him.”

I roll my shoulders and try to ignore the nerves flaring to life in my core. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Agnes kisses me on the cheek, enveloping me in a cloud of her smoky floral perfume, then waves goodbye to Jo. “Thank you, Trevor. I just know good things will come from this.”

I watch her walk down the path toward the sidewalk. As Agnes melts into the people strolling along the street, my thoughts turn to Bram and the call I have to make.

We were attached at the hip from the ages of ten through seventeen, when he lived in Maplewood.

And in the twenty-five years since he left, we’ve made it a point to get together once a year, though those trips always include the friends he made in college and his days playing pro football.

We haven’t had much one-on-one time in person in years.

I’d love more time with him. But the problem is, if he’s here, I’m afraid it’ll give away the only secret I’ve ever kept from him .

I’m in love with Bram and I have been for years.

If he comes to Cryptid Night and stays to investigate, I’ll have to figure out how to have him here and not give anything away. I won’t risk the most important relationship in my life because I caught feelings when I was fifteen and could never shake them.