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Pescoli forced herself not to make a disbelieving snort.
Alvarez didn’t so much as react, but Luke did. He crushed his beer can and was on his feet, heading to the table. “That’s one of the reasons I’m here,” he announced.
Perfect.
“Carlton Jeffe, you know him,” he said to Regan animatedly. She reluctantly nodded. Jeffe had worked at a sporting goods store in town for the last decade or so. A Montana mountain man, his family had farmed outside of Grizzly Falls for over a century. While his brothers ran the wheat farm, Carlton had worked his way up to become manager of the hunting and fishing area of the store and was an expert on firearms, ammo, bows, and any other kind of weaponry a hunter would want. He was also in charge of the Big Foot Believers, a local group here in town that met once a week to play poker, discuss Sasquatch sightings, and shoot the bull. “The BFBs put together a group every year to go hunting for one, y’know—”
“And every year have returned empty-handed,” Pescoli cut in.
“Well, maybe that’ll change now. Because of Bianca.”
Pescoli didn’t like the sound of this.
Lucky went on, “Carlton called me. The BFBs want Bianca to come to the next meeting and tell her story, what happened to her.”
“You have to be kidding,” Pescoli said.
“He called me, too,” Bianca said.
“Oh, for the love of—no way. No effin’ way.” She looked from father to daughter and back again. “This is where I put my big parental foot down. Bianca is not talking to those nut jobs.”
“They’re not all crazies,” Luke said. “I know there are some like Ivor Hicks and Frank Nesmith who have a few screws loose, but most of the members are okay.”
“They are not okay if they believe in Big Foot and want Bianca to come and, what? Talk to them about being chased and terrorized by a mythical creature that anyone with a brain knows doesn’t exist?”
Luke bristled. “I think that’s for Bianca to decide.”
“I wasn’t going to but . . .” Bianca lifted a shoulder. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
“No. Forget it. You’re laid up.” To Luke: “She’s a minor. Remember? Isn’t that why you said you were here in the first place?”
“She can speak for herself,” he said, then regarded his daughter with a coaxing smile. “Bianca, what do you say? You know that Sphinx is going to be there, right?”
“Sphinx?” Regan repeated.
“As in Barclay Sphinx, the TV producer.” Lucky gave her a pitying look, as if he could not believe how out of it she was. “Tell me you’ve heard of him.”
In her peripheral vision, she saw Alvarez give a barely perceptible shake of her head. But Bianca was listening raptly, and Pescoli finally understood her daughter’s reasons for entertaining the idea of speaking to the group. Bianca had always had an interest in acting.
“Sorry,” Pescoli said tightly. “What has he done?”
“Most recently, reality shows. His most popular one is Big Foot Territory: Oregon!, filmed in the Cascade Mountains. He’s from Seattle, I think, but he’s got ties to Hollywood.” Luke was earnest. “Michelle is all over this—she’s a major fan.”
“Of the Big Foot series? Seriously? Doesn’t sound like her kind of thing.”
Luke ignored that. “Sphinx has done other things as well. Auction stuff, I think, and a reality show looking into the daily lives of celebrities once they lose some of their star-power, how they try to reinvent themselves. Tarnished Stars: Where Are They Now? She loves that one.”
Bianca visibly brightened. “I do, too!”
“Still not ringing any bells.” Pescoli shook her head.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s coming to Grizzly Falls. This week. Or that’s what Carlton implied.” Lucky was on a roll now, more excited than she’d seen him since he’d hit a thousand-dollar jackpot in a casino when Bianca was a baby.
“Implied?”
“It’s not a ‘for sure’ thing, but if Bianca comes to the meeting, Sphinx told Carlton he’d try to make it.”
“Really?” Bianca whispered.
