The Ugly Truth (22 page)

I had absolutely no idea what was going on. First my boss, then Maddie. And of course she believed the worst of me after I forced her to talk to Jake. I’d only been trying to help, but she wouldn’t see it that way. And neither would he. The tears I’d managed to staunch so far filled my eyes. Suddenly I wanted more than anything in this world for Jake to hold me in his arms. I wanted to lean against his rock-hard chest. I wanted to explain to him that I was lost and confused even before I’d agreed to come to Ugly Creek.

Surprise froze me in the process of reaching for the errant tear sliding down my cheek. What a ridiculous idea. I was happy with my life. I had a good job, a nice apartment, a roommate who was closer than a sister.

Except I no longer had any of those things. I wanted Jake so much the agony of it burned me deep inside, a place I didn’t know existed, a place I think might be the lonely hole where love should fit.

With a big sigh, I forced myself off the bed and began putting my clothes back in my suitcase. I had to get away from this house. This town. From the craziness that had twisted my life all around since I’d come to Ugly Creek.

From the man I cared way too much about.

“I see you’re packing. Good.”

For the first time since I’d answered my cell, I felt the burn of anger through my gut and into my chest. “We’ve been friends since college. We’ve shared an apartment for three years. How can you possibly believe I’d do whatever it is you think I did?” Then again, she didn’t tell me about Bigfoot.

Maddie gave a little one shouldered shrug. “While I was tied up in the back of Henry’s store I realized I don’t really know you at all.”

Tears stung my eyes and I tried to blink them back. “I just wanted to help.”

She took a step toward me, and I saw tears cover her eyes. “What’s between Jake and me is nobody’s business but ours.”

“You love each other.” I was surprised the words didn’t slay me right there.

There was a faraway, beaten expression on her face. “That is none of your business, you traitorous bitch.”

“Maddie…”

She rushed toward me and shoved her phone in my face. “Deny that.”

What I saw stunned me. The photo was the one I’d taken of the smaller Bigfoot. Worse, it was obvious even on the small screen the picture was on the front page of
The Weekly Tattler
.

She turned and stomped out the door.

I sat hard on the foot of the bed. Never in my life could I have believed I could feel this shocked and devastated. And alone.

I took a moment to allow myself to recover a little, then I did what I’d been doing for most of my life. I pulled myself together and did what I had to do.

I dug my laptop out of the linen closet, grabbed my bag and purse, and carried my stuff downstairs while I wondered what to do next. I could hear voices from the living room and my gaze swung in that direction.

Margaret glared at me through the doorway. “Madison told me what you did.”

Behind her, Maddie looked at me with righteous fury.

“I didn’t do this, Margaret. You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything, Stephie. I want to believe it’s some kind of mistake, but it sure doesn’t look like it.”

The knock startled me so badly it hurt.

Margaret opened the door, and Henry handed her what I knew was a copy of
The Weekly Tattler
. For a second I hoped the whole, stupid mistake would be revealed and we could all go back to our lives.

“That’s my backyard,” Margaret said pointing at the tabloid. “That picture was taken in my backyard.”

There it was, that morning’s issue of the worst tabloid on the supermarket stands,
The Weekly Tattler
. On the front page was my shot of the creature. The headline read, “Award-winning Photographer Up Close and Personal with Bigfoot.”

“I didn’t do this.”

“Your name is on the article.” Tears shimmered in Margaret’s eyes.

“I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Maddie asked.” Didn’t take the picture? Because I recognize your style.”

The Weekly Tattler
. Mr. Grainger had mentioned that name. Was this what he was talking about? This picture had violated my contract? It wasn’t possible. This was a nightmare. It had to be.

“Well, did you?”

A huge drum was beating against my skull, I had an all but overwhelming urge to throw myself at their feet and beg them to believe me. Somehow, I managed to keep myself in adult mode. “I took the picture, but I didn’t send it to the
Tattler
. I’d never do something like that.”

“Why should we believe that?” Maddie took a step toward me. “You even gave them an interview.”

What!
My hands were shaking so hard I ripped the tabloid as I grabbed it from Margaret’s hands. Sure enough, there was an interview supposedly given by me. “I don’t understand.”

Maddie walked by me, and I had the sudden thought I might literally be stabbed in the back—not that I much cared. “I didn’t do this.” I looked from Henry to Margaret and back again. Margaret’s face was pale and I could see she was trembling. Henry was quieter, not meeting my gaze, but not saying anything either. Tears stung my eyes, but hard-learned lessons prevented them from falling.

Maddie came back from the entryway where I’d dropped my things, my laptop case in her hand. “Steve can prove what you did.”

“Fine.” I wiped at my eyes. “He can do whatever he wants with that.” I had to get out of there. I had to go back to my apartment. Maybe, maybe if I got back to D.C. I’d find this was all a horrible nightmare. “Could somebody take me to town so I can rent a car?”

“I will.” Henry stood and walked me over to my things. He took my suitcases and turned toward the door.

The etiquette part of my brain screamed at me to say goodbye and thank you to my hostess, but I figured the faster I got out the better. I’d send a card, I promised myself. Maybe a gift.

Maybe she’d send me one. Maybe a bomb.

The drive into town was silent except for my sniffles. I wanted to talk to Henry, but he was the only one who hadn’t said anything about what a monster I was, and I really wanted to keep it that way.

He pulled into the rental car lot and I started to get out, but a hand grabbed my wrist and held me in place.

“Did you send the picture to that sorry excuse for a newspaper?”

I looked him right in the eye. “No. I would never do that.” Tears blurred my vision. “I like that little furry fellow.”

He studied my face for a few long, tense moments, then slowly nodded. “I believe you.”

I felt like I was a balloon and the air had just been let out. I collapsed against the seat. “Thank you.”

“Give ‘em time to figure things out. Madison’s still mad over that craziness yesterday. And Margaret is a momma. Mommas are protective over young ones, even if they aren’t hers.”

That verified what I’d assumed. “The little creature, it’s a child.”

Henry nodded. “He’s nine, and pretty much equivalent to a human nine-year-old, except for being almost as tall as I am. They don’t have many kids, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah. Don’t know why, but they don’t. So we all tend to be kinda protective of the critters, especially the young ones.”

“They’re amazing.”

The sides of his lips twitched in the direction of a smile. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Thank you, Henry. For giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

He did smile then. “You take care of yourself. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again real soon.”

“I don’t know about that. I kinda think I wore out my welcome here in Ugly Creek.”

He shook his head. “You belong here, Stephie.”

I snorted. “Yeah right.” Grabbing my stuff, I started toward the front door of the rental company, only to have Henry take the suitcase away from me and carry it inside the building.

“Bob, this is my friend Stephie. You treat her real good now.”

“I’ll do that, Henry.”

Henry honored me with a warm smile and a quick hug before he headed out.

“So, what can I do for you today young lady?” Bob asked.

Twenty minutes later, I was driving a gray Toyota, but instead of heading north like anybody with a lick of sense would do, I was steering down Main Street. I wanted my antique clothing, I told myself. I didn’t want to entrust the things to the postal service. I was close; I could just run by and grab the chest.

Okay, I admit it. I wanted to see Jake again. I missed him and I hadn’t even left yet.

Since it was Sunday, there was almost no traffic. I parked the car a couple of blocks down the street from the antique shop. There was no sign of anyone home, but I couldn’t see where Jake parked his truck, so I couldn’t say for sure. I just sat for a minute. My heart ached to go in. but I knew I couldn’t.

Then I saw Jake and Dingo trot up the street. Man and dog, running and playful. My eyes filled at the sight. Every molecule inside me wanted to get out of the car and head straight for them.

I loved him.

The thought thrust itself into my chest with the power of an EF-five tornado. Great. Within the space of one, bright Sunday morning I’d been fired, accused of betraying my best friend, her mother—who I’d come to see as a substitute mother—a truly cool group of creatures, and apparently an entire town. Nobody was listening except one odd man. And now the disaster was complete. I was in love with a guy I was pretty sure was my closest friend’s soulmate.

I put the car in gear and drove out of sight of the store. On a deserted side street, I sat and contemplated my choices. There was no way in hell for this situation to end well. If by some miracle Jake believed I hadn’t sent the picture, if Maddie realized I didn’t do it, if every person in town believed I had done nothing to deserve their hatred; even then I’d have to go. There’s no way I could take the man she loved away from Maddie, I could never do something like that to a woman I loved like a sister.

Best case scenario, Jake hated my guts. If so, my beaten and bruised heart couldn’t stand to hear what he had to say.

Yep, it was better all around if I just went back to D.C., packed my stuff, and headed off somewhere to start a new life.

This time, I couldn’t hold back the tears. I wiped at my eyes, forced myself to buck up, and pulled out onto the road.

Just past the business district, I lowered my window. The breeze wasn’t exactly cool, but it carried the fresh scent of cut grass and summer sun. I not only loved Jake, I loved this town. What I wanted more than anything was to start again right here, in Ugly Creek, Tennessee. Listen to your heart, Aunt Octavia had said, and I really, really wished I could.

What my heart cried out for was impossible, of course, but logic did nothing to lessen the longing.

There went the tears again. Good grief! I was turning into the River of Denial. I may be a little dense at times, but I’m not stupid, I did eventually figure out I couldn’t drive with my vision blurry and my mind filled with wadded-up bits of confusion, worry, and longing for things I could never have.

I pulled over at a widened area with two picnic tables and a coppery sign with black lettered information about the history of Ugly Creek—the actual creek, not the town. In spite of everything, I was curious. I couldn’t read it with my eyes so blurry, though, so I ignored the sign for the moment and promised myself I’d take a picture of it on my way out. Dragging my reluctant body over to the closest concrete picnic table, I sat on an attached bench and dropped my head into my hands.

Being alone wasn’t exactly a new thing in my life, but it was the first time I hadn’t had a plan. I was lost, unprepared, scared. What was I supposed to do now?

Probably because I was having a pity party, I almost didn’t realize I was no longer alone. A rustling in the bushes alerted me to a presence and I prayed it wasn’t a murderer come to convince me to be his next victim.

It might not take much convincing given the state I was in.

What I saw shocked me more than a murderer would have. It was the young Bigfoot creature, the subject of the photo that had stolen my world and flung it back at me.

I smiled and waved at him, hoping he wasn’t there to take revenge for the wrong everyone thought I’d done. Though who could blame him?

When he began to walk toward me, I stood and backed away to give me more time. This might be a child, but he was as tall as a grown man. “I didn’t send that photo to
The Weekly Tattler
, honest.”

He leaned his head to one side a very human, very confused expression pulled at his face. “Help. Please.”

The creature’s odd, low-pitched voice was reminiscent of the larger creature’s but it was obvious this little guy was very unsure of his English. And me too, probably.

“Help?” I asked. “Do you want to help me or do you need help?”

“Need,” he said. “Bad man. Father hurt. Please help.” He pointed toward the direction from which he’d come. “There.”

“Let’s go.”

I trucked off behind the furry kid, and discovered the varmint could run like a cross-country track champion. Before long, he had to stop and wait on his short-legged human companion. Between trying to breathe and wondering if I was having a heart attack, I thought about what I was rushing headlong into. Bad man. Father hurt. Just what was it I thought I could do to help?

I realized the kid had stopped and was holding one furry finger up to his mouth. Quiet? Oh boy.

I slowed and crept toward him as quietly as I could, wondering if my gasping breath and pounding heart wasn’t clearly audible to anyone in a one mile radius.

When I got to him, he pulled me behind a bush and pointed.

By this time, I could hear a voice, a voice I recognized. Butch. Great. That’s all I needed to make this day a complete and glorious disaster.

I peeped over the bush and saw him holding a gun on a huge Bigfoot that looked to be the same one Butch had argued with at the picnic, and the big guy was bleeding from one shoulder. I swallowed hard. The furry dude was massive, almost as tall as several of the smaller trees. Butch must be crazier than I thought.