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“Not so’s you’d notice.” Dougal shifted his shoulders. “I hear it’s the same in every small town in America. You could live there for fifty years and you’d never truly belong.”
He was right. But it still didn’t seem fair. And while Dougal said he understood, Kris didn’t think that he liked it. She didn’t blame him. Dougal seemed like a nice man. Interesting. Attractive. With those light eyes and dark hair, that well-trimmed beard and tall, taut body, she’d even call him sexy. You’d think every single woman in town would be after him.
Although … She glanced again at Johnnie. Maybe that was why.
They remained silent for a few minutes; then Dougal cleared his throat. “What did you think of the museum?”
Kris accepted the change of subject gladly. “You’ve put together something very nice. Did you do all the work yourself?”
“I planned it. Had some help from an artist woman who came to the village to paint the loch.”
Kris’s lips curved at the description. How long did you have to live in Drumnadrochit before you were known by your name? According to Dougal, maybe forever.
“Have you seen Nessie?” Kris asked.
Dougal sipped his whisky. “Everyone’s seen her.”
“That appears to be the party line. But…” She waited until Dougal looked up. “Have you?”
Something flickered in those amazing eyes. He hesitated, then shook his head. “Can’t see what ain’t there.”
The words could have come right out of her mouth. Kris felt again the tug of a kindred spirit. She scooted her stool closer to Dougal’s. “For a skeptic, you put forth a pretty good front.”
“I don’t have a choice. You think anyone would come to a museum that explains all the reasons there isn’t a Nessie?”
Probably not.
“You’re familiar with the history of the loch?” Dougal asked.
She was, but she wanted to hear what he knew. “Enlighten me.”
“Twenty thousand years ago a glacier skidded through this area.”
Skid might be pushing it. Glaciers moved pretty “glacially.”
“Dug quite a few holes and when the ice melted, about ten thousand years later, the land rose and the new waterways separated. Where once Loch Ness may have been part of the North Sea, it was no longer.”
“Any proof of that?”
“Remains of sea urchins, clamshells, and the like have been found in the deep sediment of the loch, despite its being a freshwater lake.”
“Go on.” Kris was intrigued.
“Some theorize that Nessie is a sea creature that was trapped here when the waterways separated and she’s evolved, adapting to the freshwater.”
“How could a single creature live that long?”
“Couldn’t,” Dougal agreed. “Unless there was something supernatural about it.”
Kris lifted her brows. “You think there is?”
“No.” Dougal grinned. “But it makes for a very good story.”
“What about the idea that a herd of these creatures was trapped in Loch Ness?” Kris asked. “A breeding population.”
“In theory, that would explain the issue of life expectancy. However, a trapped breeding population would end up so inbred that they’d eventually be unable to procreate.”
“And you’re right back to the life expectancy problem,” Kris said. “What else?”
