Something of a Kind - By Miranda Wheeler Page 0,84

his to a flashing flat screen on the wall across.

The video was straightforward and unwavering at first, the unbelievable image of an infant Gigit, a baby bigfoot, swinging through the trees. She and Noah spoke in the background, her voice sounding soft and lyrical, unlike the powerful speech that resounded in her head.

As the video progressed, the screen swung between the ground and the spaces in front and behind her, like a pendulum. She shuddered when Noah slammed into a thick branch jutting into the path, twigs flying off like splintered wood. He subconsciously recoiled, half his body held back while the other kept moving forward. Shuffling to regain his footing, they barely lost speed.

Only flashes of the large primates were captured, rather than her steady view of the baby in the trees. In a few seconds, he fastforwarded an additional sixteen minutes of footage. The screen went dark.

“When you left the hospital to drive the Locklear kid’s truck to Lee’s,” Greg offered, “I was just about to leave when someone handed this to me. I suppose it’s because of the label on the back.”

Aly raised an eyebrow, weary of the hope twisting in her lungs. She prompted, “And?”

“And you did what I would have done,” he sighed. “You got evidence of an indisputable nature, a credible claim, and video or photographic documentation – twice. You had more than one witness on multiple occasions.”

He believes me– us, Noah and I. He’d never say it, but for Greg, this is groveling.

Aly nodded, talking in his comments. They sounded just short of flattery. “You weren’t looking in the right place, or the right time, or using the right tactic or something.”

“I don’t know everything,” he confessed. “I’d really like to know how this happened.”

“Oh, you can hear the whole story,” she began, adding, “on the condition that you accept that it was an accident, not some hell-bent attempt to get your attention or some beyond the grave conspiracy that Mom is trying to destroy whatever you’re doing here.”

“You’re so much like your mother,” he murmured, squinting. For the first time, it didn’t sound like an insult. Forcing a laugh through his irritation and perplexity, he continued, “Alyson, I know I haven’t always been the most objective. It’s gotten me into more trouble in my own work than anything. I know this was something you explored in selfinterest. My comments were in my own. I’m fascinated by your investigation, and I’m glad you and your friend learnedyour lessons.”

“If you’re talking about his arm,” Aly warned, her voice low and seething, “I will not hesitate to confiscate my camera, tell everyone in your business that it was a hoax you perpetuated, and I’ll punch you harder than Mom when you tried making her get out of the car pregnant and alone, dark in the woods on a road fifteen miles from town.”

“Just like your mother,” he repeated. Greg scratched his growing stubble, loud enough to hear across the room. Embarrassed, he admitted, “I was not a nice kid. Both of my… suggestions were… uncalled for.”

“You’re damn right. We’re going to respect each other, from now on, no exceptions. Noah is off limits, so is Doctor Whatshername. I think that’s fair,” she demanded, arms crossed. He nodded curtly, lifting her camera.

“I think it’s important,” he began, hesitant, “for you to be aware that the professional relationship with Lee that I’ve referenced in its entirety… it was going nowhere, fast, anyway. I apologize for making it seem that that was any fault of yours specifically. Also, the issue with your mother…”

Aly swallowed her comments, allowing him to finish.

Maybe she should be off limits too.

“She had a lot of distain for everything I did. She wanted me to get a fanciful job and an extravagant house so she could raise you like her mother, barefoot and cleaning and all that glorified traditionalisms.”

Aly raised an eyebrow, motioning for him to go on in spite of every alarm blaring that he was either dead wrong, insane, misunderstood, or generally, her mother had changed and warped in ways she’d never seen.

He continued, “I had a lot of issues, especially with my father growing up. When she paralleled some of his expectations, I checked out. I wanted to forego everything I loved about her and leave town, never looking back. There was one fight too many, and I didn’t see to her term. I ran, as always. When I went back, I was too late– I was a stranger to you,