Authors: Aubrie Dionne
Gail shook her head. Her face crinkled with tears and she wiped them away as if steeling herself before she spoke. "It's over, Flynn. Nessie isn't real."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I found sonar equipment with the same call we heard the other night. The exact same call, Flynn!"
"That doesn't mean anything. They could have taped Nessie just like we did."
"That's not all." She shoved the pile of clothes into the travel bag on the bed. Flynn recognized the sweater she'd worn on their date. Seeing the memory packed away broke his heart. She'd packed away their budding relationship just as easily.
He calmed himself. If he didn't remain calm, she'd never come around. "What else?"
"I found some plastic fins, and one of them had the same webbing that left the impression in the sand."
"Are you sure?"
"I didn't have a ruler, but I have a good memory."
Flynn's stomach dropped to the first floor. "Is that enough? What about the tooth and the scale?"
"L-PIB seems to think it's enough to halt the operations. We're not even sure they are from the same creature. The scale could have washed up from years ago, and the tooth could be from a very large fish, maybe some distant cousin of the tigerfish I spoke of earlier. Before, it all seemed so magical, I think it blinded me to the reality. I wanted to believe not only for myself, but for you. I'm sorry, Flynn. I wanted this to work out for both of us. I wanted it so badly I blinded myself to the truth."
"Couldn't you have given it â given us â at least one more day?"
"What are you saying? Lie to L-PIB when they hired us to tell the truth?"
"Not lie, but as least buy us some more time?"
"What's the point? Nessie's a fake, and they have to catch the hoaxers as soon as possible. What if those hooligans realize we'd been down there and clear out their stash before L-PIB can get to it?"
"Okay, okay. I understand having to tell L-PIB and the fact you want to catch the hoaxers. Blarney told me they want us out, but can't you stay one more night? For us?"
Gail's chin twitched. Flynn was on the verge of breaking her tough façade. All he had to do was find the right words. He took her hand. "Please?"
Her eyes glazed with a moment of indecision. Her grip on his hand loosened and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Flynn. I feel like such a traitor finding the equipment and then having to tell L-PIB. I know I should have waited for you to come back, but I was afraid you'd try to stop me. Reporting the fake evidence was the right thing to do, but still, it leaves a sickening feeling in my stomach. I can't stay."
She pulled away and zipped up her bags.
Flynn felt like a drowning man reaching for someone on land whose back was turned. He was losing her. "I'm not asking for long. Just one more night."
Emotion drained from her face as if she were tightening a chord around her heart. "If I go back now, I can make my father's memorial service tomorrow afternoon." Her words came out flat and resigned.
She picked up her bags. This time Flynn didn't help her. He couldn't bring himself to lift a finger. Somehow, deep down, he knew it was more than a funeral pulling her away. Their differing faiths wedged them apart. He still believed and she didn't. She knew that truth would eventually tear them apart. If so, why keep spending time with each other now? It would only hurt more in the end.
Still, Flynn wanted more time to find Nessie. Tabitha needed this distraction more than anything else.
Gail kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry about your sister, and I'm deeply sorry she won't get the hope she deserves. At least not from Nessie." She brushed past him, and he let her leave. Maybe she was right. Maybe Nessie was a fake. Could he live with the fact Gail had brought him the cold, hard truth?
Gail looked back just once. "L-PIB is clearing out the stash today. Go and see for yourself."
Flynn froze, unable to accept the truth. He watched her shuffle down the steps as his resolve drained. Before he could tell her he didn't want to, the front door had opened and closed.
Gail was gone.
Wisdom
Flynn parked in the visitor parking at Inverness's Raigmore Hospital in his usual spot. After what had happened with Gail at the cabin, he had nowhere else to go. Since they'd had to evacuate, Tom had stormed away to the local tavern, swearing up a hornet's nest, and Blarney had begun stringing his tent back up in the woods. Flynn hadn't wanted to follow either of them. Besides, he had to tell Tabitha he'd failed sooner rather than later. Might as well get it done right away.
He entered the lobby, and the woman at the desk waved him through without asking for identification. Every receptionist at Raigmore knew who he was.
Flynn took the elevator up to pediatrics as the familiar hospital smell of chemicals permeated his nose. He'd hated that smell when Tabitha had first gotten sick, but now it reminded him of her. He could barely remember a time when she'd smelled like a normal teenager with her bubblegum-scented perfume and strawberry hairspray.
She doesn't need the hairspray now.
Flynn took a deep breath as the elevator opened and he walked toward her room. Once again, the woman at the desk waved him by with a sympathetic smile. "Good day, Mr. Mahoney."
"You, too, Claire." He knew almost all of the receptionists and nurses by name. Tabitha called Claire one of the "niceys" who brought her extra jellies on the rare occasions when her stomach wasn't upset.
The "meanies" were another story. Some of the nurses should have worked in a prison for all of their rigidity and cold shoulders. Flynn swore they stood at Tabitha's door just waiting for visiting hours to close so they could order him to leave and feel high and mighty.
Tabitha sat up in bed, staring out the window as if dreaming of another life somewhere else. She'd tied ribbons in the wisps of hair that had remained after her multiple treatments. The sight of the rainbow bows was a sign of her rebellion against the tumors. She hadn't stopped fighting.
"Tabitha." Flynn spoke quietly, taking a seat next to her bed.
She turned her head, and it took her a moment to focus her wistful green eyes before she recognized him. "Flynn? Why are you here so early? You should be out on the lake with your research group."
"I had to come see you." Flynn took her hand, noticing how her cheekbones protruded underneath her freckled, ivory skin. She had their mother's elegant features, but the weight loss had made the angles more severe. Her cool, thin fingers always reminded him of a bird's bones â so delicate, so breakable. "Did you eat lunch?"
She nodded. "A tuna sandwich with a cup of fruit. The mystery pudding was especially evil."
"Great." Flynn loved seeing some of her sarcasm surface. "Can I have some too?"
"Sure. Just wait for me to vomit it back up."
Flynn sat back, resisting the urge to wince at her candor. "You'd better get to work. I'm not waiting all day."
Tabitha gave him a fleeting smile, then turned back to the window.
"Have you been taking your pills?"
Tabitha glanced at an unusual bulge in her pillowcase. "You're not my nurse."
He was tempted to call her out and rip open the pillowcase. "Yes, but I can tell when you're lying and she can't."
Tabitha sighed. "They make me even sicker. I wouldn't be able to keep anything down. How am I supposed to stay alive with no food?"
She had a point there. Still, the treatment was their last hope. "You've got to try."
"Something tells me you didn't come all the way over here just to nag me about my pills."
Flynn took a deep breath. He'd dreaded this moment ever since he promised he'd find Nessie. "L-PIB called off the operation."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, that stinks. Why would they do that after all the money they've invested?"
"One of the scientists found a stash of hoax equipment. It matches the evidence we've been gathering in our search."
"Yeah right, it does. The hoaxers can only get so close. They can't recreate the real deal." For the moment, Tabitha's anger made her seem like her old self again, an angsty teen that headbanged to the newest Goth band and wore black eyeliner and high-heeled boots with fishnets. She gave him a flat stare. "Did you see it?"
"No." Flynn studied the tiled floor, unable to meet her gaze. "L-PIB is hauling the evidence away as we speak to use in court against the hoaxers."
"Stupid bureaucracy turds. Not consulting you is a big epic fail on their part. Can't you find an inconsistency or something so it won't disprove your evidence?"
Flynn shrugged. The thought had occurred to him. "I can try, but that won't reinstate operation, At least not right away. It will take months of reapplicationsâ¦" Those were months Tabitha didn't have. His eyes burned with tears, and Flynn wasn't sure he could hold them back. "I'm sorry, Tabitha. I've failed you."
Tabitha took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were bright and filled with resolution. "You didn't fail. Screw L-PIB. Nessie is still there, and no one can take that away from us. You still have your boat, right?"
Flynn nodded, feeling like the younger of the two.
Tabitha squeezed his hand. "You'll find her someday. You've just gotta keep looking."
Someday. Tabitha's days are numbered.
She patted his arm as if she had read his mind. "I don't need to see Nessie to know she's real. You were always the one who searched for evidence, remember?"
She was right. Flynn had insisted they find some remnant of the creature, while Tabitha enjoyed the journey of searching, of dreaming. Of the two of them, she'd always had more faith.
"Yes, but I want us to see her together." Flynn wiped his eyes, not wanting to cry in front of her. A strong girl like her deserved a brother just as resilient.
"You know where to find me." Tabitha smiled. "Go out there and do what you do best. I'll be waiting."
****
Gail picked up a mocha latte from the coffee stand across from her departing gate. Chocolate. She needed lots of it. Also, a drink or two when she got on the plane. Guilt barreled through her at full force, churning her stomach. She was pretty sure she had a severe case of heart sickness as well.
What was she doing? She'd finally found someone that understood her nerdy tendencies and enjoyed her quirky interests. Someone who could make her feel like the most beautiful woman on Earth. Someone warm with hard abs, a soft touch and sparkling green eyes⦠His accent wasn't all that bad, either. Sure, her mom needed her at the funeral, and staying to search for a myth was illogical. But was she really running from love?
If she was, it was too late anyway.
Sabotage â that was what she'd done. She'd torn down Flynn's whole operation and his lifetime of work from the bottom up in a few hours. They could never have a relationship after the hurt she'd caused him. Maybe he thought they could overcome it, but the resentment would fester, and she couldn't stand by and watch him waste his life on something that didn't exist.
She checked her watch. Three hours until her plane departed. Boarding would start in two. That felt like an eternity to wait, an eternity to tease her with the thought of changing her mind.
No.
She couldn't go back now. There was no creature, for one. Every minute spent would be on her own dime, and she had her own research projects to finish at home, her own boat to maintain. A captain to find.
Besides that, she couldn't miss her father's memorial service.
He would want me to stay.
The thought hit her in the face. Her father wouldn't have given up so easily. He would have given the search at least one more night.
Where had that come from? What had his persistence brought him? A cold, untimely grave in the Alps.
A patch of green vinyl standing out in the mob of passersby caught Gail's attention. It was the same color as her father's rain poncho, the one he'd worn on treks in the woods.
It can't be.
His remains were in a box at the Laufman Funeral Home back in Boston, set aside for the service tomorrow.
Still, Gail shot up, grabbed her backpack, and followed the crowd into the food section. An elderly woman with a cane shuffled in front of her and she peered around a tall man in a business suit, catching a glimpse of the figure in the green poncho. The hood was up, tied tightly around his neck.
How had he gotten through security like that?
She hopped on her tiptoes as the elderly woman took a right toward the Asian stir-fry station. Gail pushed by the businessman and followed the green hood toward the next line of gates.
Whom did she expect it to be? Another Bigfoot hunter, perhaps a member of the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization? Regular hikers, rock climbers, and bikers all wore rain ponchos. It could be anyone with a penchant for the outdoors, or someone who didn't like getting wet.
Gail glanced at the glass panels, which showed a full view of the planes waiting to take off on the runway.
Not a cloud in sight.
Which was unusual for Scotland.
She skirted around a toddler throwing candy and bumped into a woman with her back hunched under a pile of bags.
"Watch where you're going, missy!"
"Sorry, ma'am." Gail steadied the bags, making sure the woman was still upright before continuing. She glanced up, spying the figure in the hood as he turned the corner. A chunk of brown hair and the curve of an unshaved cheek made her heart stammer.
He never did shave on vacations.
"Stupid Americans, always in a hurry." The woman's angry mutter brought Gail back to reality.
She shot the woman a questioning look, then took off around the corner. The green poncho bobbed through the crowd in a jolly stride, much like her father's. No one seemed to notice how strange the figure looked wearing outdoor gear in an air-conditioned public place where everyone else wore T-shirts and tank tops. Gail followed him to a set of double doors and froze as he disappeared down a flight of steps.
The exit. If she went through it, she'd have to go through customs and security all over again. She might even miss her plane.
That's not him. I only want it to be.
Ghosts were something else she refused to believe in, along with the Loch Ness monster, aliens, the Easter bunny, leprechauns, and love.
Scotland had jump-started her imagination, making her crazy. Gail turned around and marched back to her gate. The last thing she needed was another wild goose chase. She needed to get out of this country once and for all.
Gail returned to her seat, finding her latte still where she left it. She hefted her backpack off her shoulders with a sigh of relief. It was ridiculous to follow someone through the airport just because they had the same poncho her father had worn years ago. They still manufactured those today, didn't they?
As she placed the pack under the seat, she saw a clump of paper stuffed under the cushion that hadn't been there before. Or maybe she hadn't noticed it. Gail pulled it out and unfolded the glossy paper. Her chest tightened.
A small boat floated on Loch Ness, along with a title that read "Follow Your Heart's Desires."
It was Flynn's brochure from his touring business.