Chapter Seventeen

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?"

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 — given us — 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.