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brAM

Surrounded by duel monitors, my recording equipment, research books, and my dog Hades, is a good place to be. Add in the comfort of my ergonomic chair, the sight of Philly skyscrapers outside my apartment window, and my brother Charlie making us food in the kitchen, and damn, it’s good to be home.

I watch the last minute of myself on screen, wrapping up the Bigfoot investigation in Washington state, add in the end credits, and hit save.

The episode is done, and now it’s time for my favorite part of any investigation or research study: doing a recap, with added commentary, for Trevor. I open my recording app and begin. “Sightings of Bigfoot in Washington state have been reported for decades…”

What started as a one-off, with extra stories from an investigation that were too colorful to include in the episode, but I knew he’d appreciate, has turned into a private tradition for the two of us.

Leaning back in my chair, I recount the sightings that brought me there, my gaze on the photo of Trevor and me with our friends taken in front of a giant redwood tree a few summers ago. Our arms are around each other’s shoulders and our smiles are wide.

During our group vacation in Italy this past July, he shared that he listens to my stories as he’s getting ready for bed.

Picturing him in those plaid shirts he loves, puttering around his bedroom, listening to me, then sliding into his sheets with my voice in his ears, warmth washed into my chest. For all the years I’ve known Trevor, I’ve held a deep affection for him, but something changed that day, and the tenderness I had for him seemed to burrow into my core.

That feeling is back now, as I tell my tale. I’m not sure why my feelings for him shifted into more, fiercer, and softer, but it happened, and hell if I know what to do about it.

Hades stirs from his spot on the rug. He pads toward me, his tag jangling from his collar, and noses my lap.

The Belgian sheepdog found me in the woods while I was camping last year, thin and hungry, his black fur matted with mud.

He’s been my faithful companion ever since.

I rub the top of his head. “Did you come over to add something to my story?”

He licks my hand in response.

“Bram,” Charlie calls from the hallway. He comes into my office, his T-shirt dusted with flour, carrying my phone, which is ringing. “It’s Trevor.”

Surprise and delight flash into a warm sunbeam, lighting up my body.

“Awesome.” I pause the recording and grab the phone, then tap to answer the video call. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Trevor’s smiling face fills the screen.

His short dark brown hair is tousled like he’s been running his fingers through it, and I wonder if he’s had a stressful day.

The stubble he was sporting the last time we video chatted has grown into a close-cropped beard.

It gives more focus to his lips. I’ve never paid that much attention to his lips before, but now, I can’t stop looking at them.

Would they feel soft against mine? Or firm? Would they be warm?

I lick my lips, then shake my head to clear those thoughts. “How are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, you know… there’s always something going on here. How was your trip?”

“Really good. I just finished editing the episode. Spoiler alert, we didn’t see Bigfoot during the investigation, but I got some great stories. You’ll have your version of it tonight. I’ll finish recording after I eat.”

His eyes light up with his smile. “I can’t wait.”

“So…” I focus on the faint line of stress between his brows and the tension in his shoulders I pick up on, even through the screen. “What’s wrong?”

Huffing a laugh, he sits back in his chair. He’s in his office at the inn, and wearing yet another plaid shirt. Brown this time, like his eyes and hair, with a thin line of orange running through it. He looks good, like a sexy lumberjack. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“No.” I grin, and he does too. “Tell me.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair and rolls his shoulders. “Okay, here goes. Agnes came to see me today.”

“Oh no,” I groan and drop my head back. Nothing good comes from my great-aunt stopping by. I love her, but finding—or as my mom would say, causing—trouble is part of her DNA. And I know Trevor has only shared half of the antics she’s gotten herself into.

“Yeah.” He huffs a knowing laugh. “The short version is, she thinks she saw a winged cryptid flying over her car, two of her bandmates saw something bipedal that’s bigger than a bear, and someone in her gardening club saw what they are calling a wolf-man. ”

“Seriously?” I gape at my friend. I was expecting him to say something along the lines of yet another appliance breaking at the inn, not anything cryptid-related that isn’t about Mabel.

Stroking Hades’s head, I glance at Charlie, who has made himself at home on the small sofa lining the far wall. “I wonder why she didn’t call me.”

Trevor shifts and I catch a glimpse of russet leaves against the blue sky over his shoulder.

No matter how long it’s been since I’ve lived in Maplewood, I know that view from the window over the desk in the office, having spent summers during high school working part-time alongside him in that very spot.

“You were away, but she said she’ll reach out.

There’s more. Agnes talked to the community development guy who’s super involved in the festivals about all of this and they think it’s time we hold an event to honor Mabel, and whatever other cryptids may be lurking around here.

They want to do it next month to kick off the Halloween events, and volunteered you and me to host it. ”

Sprawled across the sofa, Charlie lets out a low whistle and raises his brows at me. “That’s a lot of information.”

Trevor leans closer to the screen. “Is that Charlie?”

“Yeah.” I turn my phone toward my brother so Charlie and Trevor can wave at each other, then spin it back. “So, new sightings of different cryptids all at once?”

“Over the course of a couple of weeks, from what Agnes says.” He shrugs.

“I suggested the flying thing was a hawk or a heron, and the look she gave me…” He chuckles.

“Anyway, I’m surprised there hasn't been a festival for Mabel yet, since the stories about her go back decades, and you know how this town loves its festivals.”

“I do.” In the wake of our parents’ divorce, getting lost in the festivals was a distraction for Charlie and me.

Life in Maplewood took some getting used to, but our mom and Aunt Agnes did their best to help us adjust. “I’ve been to Bigfoot festivals in a few cities.

It’s about time Mabel got some of that love too. ”

There’s a whimper, and Trevor slides down to the floor, his back against the oak cabinets.

“We decided to hold the event the second weekend in October.” I hear a jingle of Bandit’s collar as he jumps onto Trevor’s lap before his nose takes up the screen.

Trevor moves the phone, holding it up and out of Bandit’s reach, those soft-looking lips tugging at the corners.

“I know it’s not much notice, but can you come? Will you host it with me?”

“Yes.” The answer is automatic. I’d do anything for him. “I’m not traveling for another investigation until December, and if there’s anything on my calendar that will interfere, I’ll move it. This will be fun.”

The tension in his shoulders eases. “Thanks.” His cheeks tinge pink as he bites his lip. “You can stay with me. And bring Hades.”

Hades’s ears perk up at his name.

I tilt the phone so Trevor gets a full view of the dog. “You sure you want a seventy-five-pound bundle of energy in your house?”

“I’m happy to have him. As long as you think he’ll get along with Bandit. Bandit’s really good with other dogs. Cats, not so much. We think there’s some trauma there from his previous home.”

“I can’t wait to meet the little guy. Hades will be fine with him.”

Focused on the screen, Hades halfway jumps, landing with his front paws digging into my thigh. His tail wagging, he pokes his head against my chest and pushes so he’s in the frame and can see Trevor.

Laughing, I prop the phone on my desk, out of the way of my arm getting bumped. “The worst thing my dog will do is love someone or something too much. ”

Charlie wanders over and leans down, resting his arm on the back of my chair so he’s also in the frame. “He’s the friendliest guard dog, Trevor. Never met a person or animal he didn’t like.”

I groan, adjusting my goofball dog’s weight, and thinking of some of his more memorable encounters. “Skunks, squirrels, deer, pigeons, mail carriers, random strangers, family members, Hades acts like everyone he meets is his best friend.”

Hades barks like he’s in agreement.

Charlie stands and claps his hand on his thigh. “Come on, boy, I brought you something special from the bakery. Let’s go and get your treat.”

With a yip, Hades takes off for the kitchen. Charlie waves at Trevor, pats me on the shoulder, then walks out.

Without distraction, I let myself look at my friend on the screen.

I miss spending time with him. A few short days a year, with a bunch of other people, isn’t enough.

“I have a lot of questions about those other sightings. The suddenness of it, for one thing, is suspicious. My first guess is a hoax, someone dressing up or something.”

“When Agnes told us about the winged thing, I got the feeling she was more shaken up over it than she wanted to let on.”

“I’ll do as much as I can while I’m there.” I pick up a pen and jot down a couple of notes of things to ask Agnes about the sightings. “So, you’re good? Business is busy?”