Track of the Beast: A Brock Stone Adventure

An attractive woman stepped out into the open. Her light brown skin, glossy black hair, and high cheekbones hinted at native ancestry, but her nose and eyes suggested mixed race. She folded her arms and glared up at him. She was clad in a man’s shirt and dungarees, but it did nothing to hide her feminine charms.

“I have to say, you’re the biggest bird I’ve ever seen.”

Stone flashed a grin and clambered down. She met him at the base of the tree.

“You’re good. Most people can’t hear me coming.”

Stone shrugged. “I have good hearing.”

“You got a name?” the woman asked.

“Yes. Do you?”

She tapped her foot impatiently. “You’re on our land, and you’re the gentleman. So that’s two reasons for you to introduce yourself first.”

“I’m Brock Stone.”

“I’m Marian Moss,” she said simply. “Now, why are you stalking my father?”

“Your father?” Stone couldn’t mask his surprise. Marian couldn’t have been older than her late twenties. Then again, it wasn’t exactly unheard of for someone to father a child later in life. He couldn’t but wonder what Marian’s mother had looked like. She certainly didn’t get her looks from Moss.

“Harold Moss,” she said simply.

“Yes, I just had a talk with him. He’s an interesting fellow.”

Marian arched an eyebrow. “Interesting enough that you decided to skulk around on our place?”

Stone trusted his instincts, and right now they were telling him to be truthful with this woman.

“I’m looking for a friend, a woman, who disappeared in these parts not too long ago. I know she met with your father.”

“Are you accusing my father of being a kidnapper?” She took a step closer to him. “Because if you are, I’ll thank you to get off of our land right now.”

Stone doubted Moss owned much, if any, of the forest that surrounded his cabin, but didn’t think that point was worth arguing at the moment.

“No, not at all.” He paused. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I keep hearing there are creatures around here who have been known to kidnap women.”

“Bigfoot, you mean. I’m disappointed in you, Mister Stone. You don’t seem the sort to believe in fairy tales.”

“Let’s just say I’ve seen enough of the world that I no longer dismiss the implausible as being impossible. Besides, your father says he knows for a fact that they’re real.”

Marian shook her head. “He’s old, confused. Besides, that doesn’t explain why you’re wandering around out here.”

“I sensed your father wasn’t entirely forthcoming with me. I waited, and sure enough, he waited a couple minutes and then made a beeline for this area. He’s holed up somewhere around here.”

“I doubt that. He’s better in the woods than I am, and it seems he’s better than you, too.”

“Fair enough. I’ll just search around on my own until I find whatever it is he’s hiding.” He held up a hand. “And don’t try to divert me with claims that this is your land. I’m certain you don’t own the entire forest. Even if you did, good luck stopping me.”

“What do you believe you are going to find?” Her voice was dull, sullen.

“Ape Canyon?” Stone guessed. “Your father said my friend was looking for it. He claims it’s somewhere on the other side of the mountain, but I think it’s much closer.”

Marian stood, arms folded, brown eyes staring daggers at him. Then her shoulders sagged and her gaze softened.

“Fine. I’ll show you the way, but those creatures never kidnapped anybody.”

21- The Secret

Stone followed Marian up a steep incline, moving in the general direction that Moss had gone several minutes earlier. He found himself on high alert, wondering if she might be leading him into some sort of trap. His gut told him otherwise, but it was best to remain vigilant.

Off to his right, he spotted a few signs of Moss’s trail — partial footprints, a broken twig. The fellow had grown careless. Perhaps he’d seen Marian approach Stone and seized upon the opportunity to get out of there. In any case, the tracks led back toward the cabin, which was fine with him.

Marian saw him looking. “He’s gone. He’ll be angry that I showed you this, but it’s better than having you poking around back here where you’re not wanted.”

Stone didn’t reply. He didn’t much care what the woman thought of him as long as she either provided him with a clue to find Trinity or helped him mark her father off of his list of suspects.

A gentle breeze carried with it a whiff of something feral, like a polecat or a fox’s den. Stone crinkled his nose.

“It’s just up here.” Marian pointed to a cave, its entrance almost entirely obscured by fallen rocks.

“What’s inside?”

“Just follow me.” She led the way into the cave, the air inside cool, but oddly fresh.

They worked their way down a series of slippery declines and loose rock piles, the faint glow from the cave mouth lighting their way, until they came to a dead end. Or so Stone thought.

“You might have trouble squeezing through here.” Marian pointed to a narrow passageway hidden in shadow.