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“If ye live in Drumnadrochit,” Effy said, “ye’ve seen her.”

Kris laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Everyone’s seen her?”

Effy lifted her chin to indicate the loch. “Ye have but to look.”

Kris spun about. All she saw was waves and shadows and rocks.

*

Not long afterward, Effy climbed into Rob’s car, admonishing him all the while: “I need to get home, but dinnae drive too fast. Ye give me a headache. And—”

Rob shut the door on the rest of her comment. “Ye give me a headache,” he muttered, moving around the rear bumper toward the driver’s side.

“Effy lives close to you?” Kris asked.

Rob lifted sad eyes. “The woman lives with me.”

Kris’s eyes widened. “You’re—”

“Cursed,” he muttered, and opened the driver’s side door.

Effy’s voice came tumbling out: “Ye can walk anywhere ye like, dearie, but stay away from the castle.”

“There’s a castle?” Kris forgot all about Rob and Effy’s living arrangements—were they were married or living in sin? What did it matter? There was a castle.

“Urquhart Castle. Ye must have heard of it.”

Kris had read about it. The structure overlooked Urquhart Bay, where many Nessie sightings occurred, and had figured prominently in the history of the Highlands, with many famous names like Robert the Bruce, Andrew Moray, and Bonnie Prince Charlie sprinkled through the tales.

“Is it dangerous?” Kris asked.

Effy’s Munchkins-in-the-shrubbery laugh flowed free. “Ach no. But they charge a fee, and the place is naught but a ruin. If ye want to know about Urquhart or the loch or even Nessie come to me.”

“Why not me?” Rob climbed into the car. “I’ve seen her more than you have. I drive this road every day.”

“I’ve seen her twice as many times as you, ye old goat.”

Thankfully Rob shut the door on the rest of the argument, then drove away.

The sun was setting, though it was hard to tell considering the gray, gloomy sky and incipient threat of rain. Still, by her calculations, Kris had an hour of daylight left. She didn’t want to waste it.

She hurried inside, casting a quick glance around the cottage as she moved to the bathroom to throw cold water on her face and smooth back her wildly curling hair. The damp air in Scotland was going to ruin any prayer she had of keeping it smooth.

The house possessed a living area that shared space with a small kitchen, a bedroom complete with a decent-sized bed, a chest of drawers, a night table, and a teeny-tiny closet. Luckily she didn’t need, and she hadn’t brought, very many clothes.

The place was warm—Effy must have turned on the heat—and it smelled of cookies.

“Biscuits,” Kris murmured, and her stomach growled. Thankfully Effy had also been kind enough to stock the small refrigerator with a few staples to tide Kris over until she could get to the market.

Kris made a quick jam sandwich, slugged a glass of milk, then, armed with her video camera, a Loyola University sweatshirt, and her best pair of walking shoes, set out.

The western horizon glowed a muted pink and orange, the tourist boats that had bobbed in the distance now disappeared. Nevertheless, Kris filmed a bit of the loch. She had to start somewhere.

The water slid past, dingy in the fading light and pockmarked by several bits of wood. Kris could see how someone with an active imagination might invent a lake monster, especially when everyone else was doing so.

Just as Kris lowered her camera, something splashed. She froze, squinting into the gloom, but she could see nothing beyond the first several feet of flowing, murky water.

“They grow the fish big here,” she muttered.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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