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"OK. I need to explain this, but you're going to have let me do it my way, and it's going to take a while."
"I'm always happy to let you do things your way, as long as you don't kill me." He did an obvious survey of the room. "No cliffs. Guess it's safe enough. What are you so wound up about?"
"I've been spending some time in Harry's lab the past few days trying to get a handle on what all is in there and how to tackle the sorting. The other day when my alarm reminded me I needed to head upstairs, I made a last pass around the room, feeling under every table to see if there was some secret taped to the bottom. It was just a joke."
I could tell he already thought I was crazy, and I hadn't gotten to the wildest part of my suppositions yet. "I know how it sounds but stick with me."
"Always," he said, adjusting the pillows behind him. "Continue whenever you're ready."
"You're an ass, Chance, but I'm going to continue anyway. I found an envelope, took it upstairs with me, and dumped it on my bed with the stuff I'd laid out to pack for the trip. It ended up in my bag, and I forgot about it."
"Why didn't you mention it to me?"
"Our drive didn't exactly go as planned, and I forgot about it. I picked it up while I was waiting for a phone call."
"Tom or Jim?"
"It's none of your business, but you'll probably find out about it anyway. Tom. I told Jim I just want to be friends."
"Good."
"What's good? Why are you distracting me from the story?"
"Sorry. Go on."
"I read the beginning then started just reading sections and skipping ahead pages. Harry's name is on the journal and a date, but there's nothing in the front that explains. It’s like a story about a family. The more pieces I read, the more I was convinced it wasn't what it seemed."
"So, it's not a story about a family?"
"Yes. Ummmm, no. Maybe. Be quiet. I'm getting to it. I found a section where he talks about the ages of the family members. The numbers seemed odd. It didn't make sense to me that Harry would write about a family. Plus, he names them the Jamisons. I'm not aware of any Jamisons in my family."
"Except your ex."
"Yeah, but Jamison is his first name not his family name. Anyway, I think the story is in code. I think the Jamisons are the bigfoot family Harry and Dutch observed and I think the ages he gives are GPS coordinates for the location. I looked it up. It all fits. I haven't read the whole things, so there might be more clues."
"Are you through?"
"Yes. Now you can tell me all the things wrong with my theory."
He stood up and walked over to me where I was standing near the windows. "Can I see the journal now?"
I got the journal and sat on the edge of the bed. Chance sat beside me. He took the book and looked at the outside, then the first couple of pages.
I leaned over his shoulder. "I flagged the sections I found most interesting."
When he got to the page with the numbers, I got up and retrieved the piece of paper I'd written them out on. "I wrote them down in the order they’re in the journal, and then I looked up the coordinates for Wilkins’ Gap." I handed him the piece of paper. He looked over it.
"This is good. I think you're onto something. If this is right, it's amazing. We've got to get back out there. Damn I hate knowing I can't go."
"Sorry. I didn't think about that."
He laid the journal and the paper on the bed and put his arm around my shoulders. "You're amazing. This is great work. I think you're going to be an awesome cryptid hunter." He gave me a quick kiss.
"We need to read it all. I know we'll want Jim to record it and have it transcribed, but I don't want to wait until we get back. Are you up for some late-night reading?"
He went back to his room and changed into a pair of baggy shorts and a t-shirt, while I went down the hall to get us drinks.
I let myself in, and I'll admit, my heart was jolted at the sight of Chance in my bed. "Fudge," I said, as I walked over and handed him the Diet Coke. "Do you need a glass?"
"I'm good. Do you have a pad or something you can take notes on?"
"Right here." I picked it up off the desk along with a pen.
"If you've got any more of those flags, we might want those too."
Once we had everything within reach, I turned off the overhead lights and sat on the bed next to Chance. He read the first few pages. "I think you're right about this. It all fits."
We took turns reading, stopping to make notes or flag certain passages. I knew it was getting late, and I'd need extra coffee to get through the next day of the conference, but it was worth it. Once I thought about the people as bigfoot, the things Harry wrote were a lot more interesting.
"We can't mention anything about this outside this room. We're surrounded by people some of whom I'm pretty sure might literally kill for this information."
"Would the journal be safer locked in the truck or the hotel safe?"
"Yeah, maybe. For now, I'll keep it with me. You take this." He handed me the paper that I'd written the numbers on. "I'm not joking about this. It's critical. If possible, keep it in your bra."
I thought he was joking, but the look he gave me told me he was dead serious. "I can do that.” I started to tuck it in before realizing I wasn't wearing a bra. “Well, maybe not right now."
"Put it in your pillowcase for now, then," he suggested, not even trying to hide his look at my chest.