Page 21 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
“Zach, what did you think?” I ask. “Did you find anything?”
He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t see Mabel or anything else, but it was a good time. I’d do it again. You can’t go wrong with the woods at night.”
Nodding, I clap him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you checked it out.”
The crowd thins, and Jake helps someone from the festival committee put out the fire.
Ever and Dmitri stop by to drop off their gear and their group’s evidence.
I’ve lost Trevor again. We drove together so he can’t have gone too far, but I feel itchy not knowing where he is. With Jo’s and Alaric’s help, I stow the gear and evidence in my SUV.
Once all the food is cleared, and the campsite looks the way it did when we arrived, I send my friends and the festival volunteers on their way.
When I turn around again, Trevor is walking back from the parking area. He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “I had to give directions to one of the out-of-towners.”
I watch him as he approaches, searching for any clue on his thoughts about that almost kiss. His stride’s long and sure. His shoulders are bunched up a little, but that could be because the temperature has dropped and we’ve been out here for hours. I sigh. The long day is catchingup to me and my thoughts are muddled at best. And I have no idea what he’s feeling or thinking. I want to ask, but also don’t, in case it’s something I’m not ready to hear. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah.”
We climb into the car. I don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t say anything. Wrestling with whether I should bring anything up, or leave it alone, I drive out of the parking lot. The tension increases with every minute, winding its way around us until I feel like I’m being strangled by it.
Sitting in the static silence is too loud and too much. I start talking about the investigation, then my plan for collecting the trail cameras, and how I’ll sort through the evidence. He grunts and gives me monotone syllables in response.
The inn comes into view. I park in the spot closest to his house and he helps me unload the equipment. We leave everything in his woodworking garage. The dogs barking and clawing at the door welcome us inside.
Trevor drops his keys into the bowl by the door. Then he faces me with stiff posture and an unreadable expression. “I’m going to bed.”
His words hit me harder than the time I intercepted the ball during a playoff game and was tackled by a massive lineman, leaving me breathless and dazed. “Okay. I’ll head up soon.”
Calling for Bandit to follow, he takes the stairs at a slower pace than usual. I stand at the base of the stairs, keys in one hand, petting Hades with the other, my gaze glued to his retreating frame.
For the first time in the days I’ve been here, he closes his bedroom door all the way.
The click of the knob turning sounds so loud. And so final.
CHAPTER 7
TREVOR
The six-foot-tall skeleton sits in my desk chair wearing a permanent grin.
My heartbeat jolting, I huff a sigh at my distracted self and push the door open wide. Although I’m the one who put him here, he’s startled me every time I’ve entered the office today.
A bark comes from the vicinity of my knees. Bandit’s not a fan either, he keeps growling at our bony guest. I give my dog a reassuring cuddle, then round my desk to check if the glue I applied to the skeleton’s broken pieces this morning has dried.
This haunted house prop isn’t the first to need mending, and I doubt he’ll be the last.
“Trevor, I finished my walk-through of the late check-outs’ rooms. All good.” Jo breezes in, holding her mug. She stops short at the sight of me inspecting the cracks in the skeleton’s cranium. “Damn it. I keep forgetting he’s in here. I almost dropped my mug. Twice.”
I wince at the twinge of guilt squeezing my chest. “Sorry. I’m not sure why I carried him over here. I should’ve just repaired him at the carriage house and left him to dry there. He’ll be out of here by the end of the day.”
She frowns, studying my face. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed preoccupied for the last couple of days.”
No kidding. And being preoccupied is probably why I needlessly carried a six-foot skeleton all the way over to the mansion.
It’s been two days since Bram and I almost kissed under the towering pines. Two days of us being carefully polite with each other. Two days of worrying that one moment put a fray in our friendship that will alter it forever.
Did he feel trapped, with my arms around him and the intention to kiss him obvious in my expression?
