“Creatures?” Scott echoed. “What sort?”
Lynn sighed. “No one can agree on that, except that the people who have seen them are credible witnesses, and the things they’ve spotted don’t look like any normal animals.”
That intrigued the journalist side of Scott, even as he registered her warning. “I need to get some photos for several projects I’m working on and do some local research. If things feel right…I’ll cross the bridge about moving here when I come to it.”
He paused, then plunged ahead. “You’ve been in Fox Hollow for a long time. Did you ever hear anything about the old mine in Plattsburgh? Like about it being haunted or having strange creatures?”
“Shifter-type creatures?” She kept her voice low.
“Maybe. But not normal animals, things people might call monsters,” Scott replied.
Lynn paused. “The town is very supportive of shifters and people with special abilities. Someone from outside the area could have gotten a glimpse of something they didn’t understand and spread a story about a werewolf or creature. I haven’t heard about it, but it’s possible.”
Scott hadn’t considered that option, but he couldn’t help thinking that didn’t quite match with the stories he had read. “Thanks. If you think of anything else, let me know.”
The alarm on Scott’s watch went off. “Speaking of which, I need to go meet my contact. I just wanted to stop in and say ‘Hi.’”
“Don’t be a stranger,” Lynn told him. “It’s always great to see you. You know where to find me!”
Scott waved goodbye and left the shop. A couple of restaurants, along with a coffee shop, general store, and outfitters, caught his eye.
See, we won’t starve, he pointed out to his coyote, who huffed in response.
Down by the lake, he spotted the seaplane where he had an appointment, a handsome craft that looked lovingly cared for. He wondered about the pilot and what it might be like to live in a tourist town year-round.
He decided to stop in at Bear Necessities Coffee and Café on his way, needing a hit of caffeine after the drive from Albany. Scott glanced up at the sky, glad that the weather was clear for his aerial tour. Now that it was autumn, such things couldn’t be taken for granted.
Customers chatted at several tables, and without meaning to eavesdrop, Scott still picked up snippets of conversation thanks to better-than-human hearing.
“…yeah, but people started to seethingsin the woods near there,” the first man said.
“You’ve been listening to those ‘stranger than fiction’ podcasts again,” the other man replied. “I keep telling you, they’re all a bunch of bunk.”
Scott ran out of reasons to linger and headed for the counter, as the two men switched to talking about the weather.
“Haven’t seen you around,” the barista greeted him, a curvy, dark-haired woman whose name tag read “Sherri.” “What can I get you, and what brings you to Fox Hollow?”
Given his height and hair, Scott often got noticed, even when he hoped to blend in. He was tall and lean, six-foot-three with light blond hair and a russet beard.
“Large latte, please. And I’m here for work.”
“Now that’s a reason we don’t hear a lot. What kind of work do you do?” Sherri prepped the grounds and started the machinewith the proficiency of someone who could pull a latte in her sleep. Scott sniffed the air, catching a whiff of another shifter along with the coffee.
Large animal…predator. Maybe a bear?his coyote supplied.
“I write web articles,” Scott said. “I have a couple of assignments that connect to the area and came up to have a look for myself.”
“Like tourist and hunting sites?” Sherri asked as the espresso maker hummed.
“Sometimes,” Scott answered. “I write for several different organizations, so it ranges from fun things like vacation ideas to more serious topics for business and industry. No hunting, but sometimes I do camping and skiing pieces.”
“We get a lot of writers for outdoor magazines,” Sherri said as she waited for the machine to finish brewing. “TV shows too. They come with all their cameras and photographers, and we get a little excitement before they pack up and go back to wherever they came from.”
“I’m just from Albany, so nothing as exotic as LA or New York City.”
Sherri slid his drink to him, and he walked to the register to pay. “Well, whatever brings you here, welcome. Hope you decide to come back just for fun. It’s off season, so there’s not quite as much going on as in the summer, but things don’t ever close up completely.”
“It certainly looks like you’ve got everything anyone would need, tucked into a small space,” Scott said.
