Love on Loch Ness (13 page)

Or was it?

Blarney bent down and examined the root that had caught Gail's foot and thrown her to the ground. His face scrunched up as though angry at it for tripping her, which only added to Gail's embarrassment.

"It's okay, Blarney. I'm fine. Let's keep going."

"Wait a wee maument." Blarney held up his hand to stall her.

Gail's heart started to pound. Were there more tracks? "What's the matter?"

"This daesna leuk naitural." He brushed away a pile of leaves to expose a rusty metal hinge protruding from the ground.

Gail's eyes widened. She felt like Boone and Locke when they'd found the hatch on
Lost
. Surely Nessie didn't store her belongings in a compartment underground?

Blarney twisted the metal and pulled. A piece of the ground came up with a squeal of rusty hinges. Loose moss and ferns covered the door.

"I canna believe I hivna seen this afore."

Gail tried to keep her body from shaking with anticipation. "It's because you know how to walk in these woods, and I just tramp around like an elephant."

"Ye will learn." Blarney propped the metal hatch up with a stick. He dangled his legs over the darkness. "Lat's take a lookie."

Before Gail could stop him, the old man lowered himself down and jumped. A low thud reverberated as he hit the bottom.

Gail bit her lip. Her blood pressure rose as she waited for his response. "Blarney?"

He swore in a litany of Scottish before Gail could understand anything. "Bluidy hacks, tryin' to water down the legend."

"Blarney, are you okay?" She swung her hiking pack around and started to dig for a flashlight. It had fallen to the bottom beneath her extra sweatshirt. She brought the flashlight up and clicked it on, shining the golden beam into the hole.

Blarney stood in a storage compartment, holding what looked very much like a plastic fin. Gail's stomach lurched.
No, it can't be.

She lowered herself down and jumped the remaining few feet to the floor. Her flashlight shone on a wall of sonar equipment much like hers. Next to the equipment laid a pile of plastic dorsal fins of all shapes and sizes. "What is all this?"

"Blasphemy. That's whit it is."

Gail walked to the equipment. It was an older model. Some of the dials had rusted from being stored in such a damp place,and the screen was cracked.

Would it work?

She took a breath and flipped the switch. Red and blue lights flashed, illuminating the controls. Her fingers shook as she pressed the replay button. In her time at Loch Ness, she'd gone from wanting to catch the hoaxers to wanting to catch Nessie. The last thing she wanted to hear was the call they'd heard that night on the water.

A guttural, melancholy drone erupted, echoing against the dirt-packed walls. Gail knew the swells and cadences so well she could sing with it. It was the same call.

Betrayal slapped her in the face. Her whole body turned numb.

This isn't happening.
"It's not real. Nessie's not real."

"Daena believe it, lass." Blarney put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Thay taped her ain call to uise against her. It's like sticking a fause horn on a unicorn so mair fowk can see it."

"But the fin." She examined the plastic. Sand still crusted the edge as if it had been recently used. "It has the same shape as the tracks we found the other day." Even the pattern of webbing fit.

If it had been a few days ago, she might have thought this was all planted to lead her away from the truth. Scotland, Flynn, and the lure of finding love had played with her mind, making her believe a scale was thousands of years old and a dinosaur lurked in the woods. Hearing about her father's failure had woken her up to reality and stuck a knife in the optimistic dreamer hiding in her heart. How could she follow in her father's footsteps and chase a lie someone else had engineered?

How would she tell Flynn?

The truth would destroy him. He'd resent her for finding the hoaxing equipment and for being right all along. If she told L-PIB and they called off the search, it would pull them apart. Gail's fingers tightened on the fin, her nails digging into the plastic. She had to report this to L-PIB. If anything, she'd call out the fakers for her dad, and all the other dads out there wasting their time on a fabricated dream.

Once L-PIB knew of the hoax, they'd stop issuing the grant money and close the operation. Gail's stomach fell to her feet. Her adventure was over and so was her romance. She'd been living in a dream world these past few days, and it was time for it to end. She'd have to take the first flight home. Maybe she could even make the memorial service for her dad that her mom had mentioned on the phone.

A small ladder lay against the back wall. Gail picked it up and leaned it against the edge of the forest floor. She started to climb, forcing one foot above the other. As she emerged into the light, the world seemed a lot less magical than it had a few minutes ago. Her heart felt like a lead ball in her chest.

"Whare are ye gaun?"

"I'm going to do what L-PIB hired me to do. I'm going to report the hoaxers and call off the search."

"You canna quit now. Nae while we're so close!"

"Watch me." Gail brought out her phone and dialed the number for the president of L-PIB as she walked back to the cabin.

He picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"

Gail recognized his voice from their video chat interview when she'd accepted the job. The moment of silence hung in the air. She froze, her tongue refusing to move and her finger over the end call button.

"Hello?" His voice was more insistent.

So much of her wanted to forget they'd ever found the equipment and continue her quest with Flynn, but she'd be living a lie. As much as she didn't want to tell him, he deserved to know the truth.

Gail hardened her resolve and took a deep breath. "Dr. Jenkins, this is Dr. Phillips from the research team. I have something to report."

Fireworks

Flynn watched the waves roll against the
Nessie's
hull with giddy joy. Spending the night with Gail had calmed his anxiety, healed his heart, and intoxicated his senses all at the same time. He hadn't felt this way in years. Ever since Tabitha had been diagnosed, he'd focused on her and ruled love out of his life. Somehow with Gail, love had found a way back in. Maybe if they established a strong enough connection, when all this was over he could convince her to stay longer.

"You like her, don't ye?" Tom glanced over his video camera. The lug must have caught Flynn smiling, watching the hill where the cabin sat nestled in trees.

Flynn reluctantly let go of last night's memories and came back to reality. "She's a great woman."

"If she removed the sonar pole up her curvy behind." Tom laughed.

His comment insulted Flynn on so many levels. "Hey, she's a scientist. She has to have a decent amount of conviction."

"I wasn't even talking about the science part."

"Just keep your eye on the water, okay?" Was Tom sour because Gail hadn't chosen him? The more he grew to know Tom the less he liked him, and Flynn hated how judgmental he'd become.

He watched Tom film out of the corner of his eye. Why did Blarney have such a low opinion of Tom? Although he didn't know Blarney very well, he could tell the comment about Tom's "black heart" was unusual for him. When the old man had spoken it, his eyes had hardened with suspicion and caution like someone watching a bear across the river, waiting to see if the beast would wander to his side.

A string of red light shot from the docks and exploded into a fiery red ball in the sky. Flynn squinted to see clearer just as another flaming star arced beneath the sun.

Was someone shooting fireworks at midday?

Flynn turned to Tom. He'd slumped against the railing, half asleep. If he wasn't careful, he'd lose his camera in the black waters.

"Hey, Tom, Wake up, man."

Tom straightened and shook his head. "What?"

A videographer falls asleep while filming?
Flynn pushed his doubts away. He had too much else on his mind. "Aim your camera at the docks. See if you can find out what's going on by zooming in."

Tom turned around and blinked. "What the—?" His thick, callused fingers fumbled with the buttons until he found the zoom feature, and the lens grew three inches longer.

Flynn stopped the engine and idled. Where had Tom gotten his boatman's hands? L-PIB had said he had "murky water" experience. Was Tom a boatman as well and never said so?

"It's Blarney." Tom kept his eyes glued to the lens. "He's lost it."

A current of disappointment ran through Flynn. He'd always thought the old man was as wise as a mystic, not as crazy as a loon. "What's he doing?"

"He's running up and down the dock shooting off flares and waving his arms like a madman."

Flares could only mean one thing. Flynn revved up the engine and turned the boat back to shore.

"What are you doing?" Tom shouted as he tried to get a handhold on the railing.

Flynn popped the cabin window open. "Did it ever occur to you he's trying to get our attention?" Blarney wasn't crazy. Something must be wrong.

Flynn's heartbeat sped, skipping along the waves with his boat at maximum speed. If something had happened to Gail, he'd never forgive himself for leaving her with Blarney for the day.

Tom jammed his camera under one arm, the recording light still on. One hand held the railing, and the other held his toupee on his head. "Watch your speed!"

"We're fine." Flynn knew his boat and how much it could take. "Hold on."

They hurtled toward shore and it took all of Flynn's self-restraint to slow down enough so they didn't ram into the dock with full force.

As they neared the dock, Flynn realized he hadn't slowed enough. He braced himself and shouted to Tom. "Get ready for impact." A boat wasn't like a car with brakes.

The
Nessie
hit the dock with a thud that rattled the windows in their frames. Tom pitched forward, cradling the camera in his arms and landing with his face on the deck. Flynn winced, hoping he wouldn't have to do another paint job as the boat scraped its way to anchor. The
Nessie
came to rest eight feet later, protesting with a metal groan.

Flynn dropped the anchor, and they swayed with the waves made by his attempt to dock in record time. He released his death grip on the controls.

"Is this how you treat your tour guests?" Tom brushed dirt off his already stained shorts.

Flynn ignored him and grabbed the mooring rope.

Blarney rushed toward him as he tied the ship down. "I hae some ill news, lad." The old man's eyes moved wildly from the hillside where the cabin sat back to the boat.

Flynn's breath caught in his throat and he froze, his fingers halfway through with the knot. "What's the problem?"

Blarney tugged at his beard. "The lass and I set oot to fand the neist place whare we thocht Nessie would surface. On the wey, we faund a cache of hoax gear hidden in the woods." The wrinkle lines deepened around his mouth. "Seems the fins and sonar calls match yer findin's."

Flynn blinked and finished the knot, trying to process Blarney's words. The last thing he'd expected to hear was something about Nessie.

It can't possibly be a match.
Gail must have misunderstood. But that alone wouldn't have sent Blarney to the dock with flares.

Blarney nodded as if he read Flynn's mind. "Thare's mair. The puir lass took it to hert. I told her nae to lose faith, but she's of a set mynd. She called yer research organization. Thay are closin' the cabin as soon as everyone can leave."

"Blimey research witch." Tom jumped onto the dock. "Messed everything up."

Blarney shot Tom a wary look, then turned back to Flynn. "Wurst part is, she's packin' her bags and has booked an evenin' flicht oot of here." Blarney took his arm. "Ye hae to stop her, lad. We can find Nessie withoot her, but you canna let true luve like that git away."

Tom hiked his equipment bags over his shoulder. "I'll slap some sense into her."

"No!" Flynn's voice came out louder and firmer than he meant. Inside he was falling apart. He put his hand up. "You two stay here. I'll talk to her."

His forcefulness stopped Tom in his tracks. He gave Flynn a questioning look, then set his equipment down and sat on top of it. "By all means, lover boy."

Blarney patted Flynn on the back. "Guid luck, lad."

"Thanks." Flynn sighed, gazing up the hill that stretched out before him to the cabin. He could run up the incline in less than five minutes on a good day. So why did the hill suddenly seem insurmountable today?

Because of Gail. What was he going to say? Could he change her mind?

Flynn pushed the doubts aside and began to climb. As he reached the top, a new, insidious suspicion crept in. What if she was right? What if the equipment did match up?

He refused to believe it. The tooth and the scale were hard evidence, even if they didn't know what they belonged to or if it was the same beast. Underneath all that doubt, Flynn still believed. He pushed open the door to the cabin.

Shipping boxes lay at the door with Gail's address marked on the front. It must have been all of her equipment. Flynn gazed up the stairs to her room. Hopefully she was still packing. Once again fate had forced Flynn to walk in on an emotional moment, and he needed all the courage he could muster.

Get your butt in gear. She's worth the fight.

Flynn shot up the steps and knocked on her door.

A long moment of silence passed and he waited with blood pounding in his ears.

"Come in." Her voice was soft, defeated.

Flynn swung the door open, hoping he could change that.

Gail stood holding a pile of clothes. Her bags were lined up on the bed half opened, and her equipment was packed up with her return address label on the front.

Although Blarney had warned him, her eagerness to leave hit him like a betrayal. Just this morning he'd finally brought her over to his side and they'd become a real team. "What are you doing?"