Chapter 2
Destiny Blake, better known as Destiny Black on TV, had a face worth remembering. A sensuous flame lit her moss colored eyes. The way she moistened her lips could convince a man to deliberately lose an argument.
I’d never met her before, but I knew the vivacious, flirty, headstrong vixen she could be. I knew.
I didn’t watch much television besides sports and the news when I was home. But on some nights when insomnia hit, I turned on late-night TV and watched shows about unexplainable mysteries, seeing just how close mainstream media might be getting to uncovering the Bennett’s secrets. Destiny was the face of the unexplained and her expeditions took her into some crazy situations.
“I know who you are, and you aren’t a scientist,” I countered.
Her face remained stoic as if she was used to getting that complaint.
“Mr. Bennett, I can assure you that I am a scientist and have a degree to prove it. I just prefer to study the unusual, and I report about it on TV.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Weller whispered beneath her breath. “So, what brings you to these parts, Ms. Blake?”
“Her name isn’t Blake,” I interrupted. “At least not on television.”
“Blake is my real name; Black is for my persona. It keeps crazies from discovering my real identity. You’d be surprised at how many people reach out wanting or demanding answers. Many non-believers think I’m spreading the Devil’s word, and many of the crazies consider me their best friend.” Destiny’s smile was forced as she turned toward Mrs. Weller. “To answer your question, I’m looking for a colleague that went missing up on the mountain a week ago.”
I narrowed my eyes. “There haven’t been any visitors to these parts.” I glanced at Mrs. Weller. “Have you had any guests go missing?”
“No.” Her tone was worried.
“He parked his camper over in Canfield. He’d wanted to throw his fans off his scent to keep them away from his investigation. There is no proof of him being in this town.”
“Convenient timing with the sheriff on his honeymoon.”
With deliberately casual movement, she turned her determined gaze to mine. “Last I checked, hiking on that mountain isn’t against the law.”
I couldn’t argue with that. She was right. Hiking wasn’t illegal, but some family secrets hidden up on that rock weren’t ready to be shared.
“It’s not illegal, dear. It’s just dangerous on our side of the hill,” Mrs. Weller answered.
“That’s why I want an escort. I haven’t totally lost my mind. I heard you were the best tracker in the district. I was lucky you worked in this area; otherwise, I would have had to pull some strings to get you here.”
Pull strings? What kind of favors did the crazy woman have access to? “When was the last time you heard from your colleague?”
“Putnam wears a smart watch. When I didn’t hear from him, I pulled the tracker’s information…”
“How?”
She smiled. “I bought him the watch and set our passwords so we could sync our locations in case something happened to one us during our expeditions. I picked the passwords. Mine is Tweedledee, and he’s Tweedledum.”
I glanced at the watch she’d unconsciously been twisting as she spoke. Intimate. Private. A personal secret shared between the two. Was he more than a colleague? The light pink color of the watch on her wrist contradicted the ruggedness of the band.
“Anyway, I pulled the GPS coordinates.” She pulled out her phone and punched in some numbers on the keyboard. She turned the screen for me to see. “And this is his last known location. I’m not even sure if he’s still there or if his watch died.”
I swallowed hard around my surprise, hoping she didn’t notice. Judging by the coordinates on the internet map, those coordinates were extremely close to the old Bennett homestead. My ancestors.
“Give me a picture of this Putnam guy and I’ll go hunt him alone. It’s safer if you stay behind.”
The worry etched on Destiny’s face morphed into fury before my eyes.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I was told you could take me up on the mountain, and that’s what I expect. Besides, you won’t be able to follow the clues he probably left behind. He writes everything in his journal in code, and I’m the only one he trusts that can decipher it.”
“He sounds paranoid,” Mrs. Weller said.
“Our stories get stolen all the time. It’s the nature of our business,” Destiny answered.
