Expecting to Die

Big Foot Territory: Montana! I think your daughter’s story would be a great
pilot. It has all the dramatic elements the audience loves. A pretty girl at a party
in the mountains, chased down a mountain by a monster to end up finding a
corpse in a stream, a dead girl, a classmate. Her mother is a cop, doesn’t believe
her, but together they search for a killer and a rogue Sasquatch who just may or
may not be the killer.” He was actually caught up in his own story, talking faster,

---

as if convincing himself as he spoke. “We’d do a reenactment with Bianca. Up at
the site where the Big Foot was seen, I think it’s called Reservoir Point? The
pilot would start out with a Handycam, shaky, raw, a little like The Blair Witch
Project maybe. Because of the murder, it would be two programs, one that ends
with the discovery of the body and the next with the aftermath, Big Foot in the
shadows.”
Michelle actually clapped and bounced on her heels, like a twelve-year-old
spying a teen idol. “I’d watch that! In a heartbeat.”
One of Sphinx’s eyebrows raised over the tops of his glasses. “There you go.
The fans, at least one, have spoken.”
“You want me in the TV show?” Bianca asked a little breathlessly, and she,
like Michelle, had stars in her eyes.
“No.” Pescoli had to stop the madness. “Bianca’s still in school and . . . no.
Just no.”
“Mom!” Bianca protested.
Sphinx offered Pescoli a conspiratorial smile. “Look, Detective, this could
help your investigation. If the homicide isn’t solved by the time of the airing, I’d
be willing to put a tag at the end of the second episode, explaining the
circumstances about the murder and, should anyone know anything, a number
they could call along with a website dedicated to solving the case.”
Michelle actually gasped. “Oh! Perfect.”
No way. They weren’t going to sensationalize a fresh case with grieving
parents. “Thanks, but I think the department can handle it,” Pescoli said dryly.
From the main room, after a screech of feedback, Carlton’s voice rang over
the speakers. “Can I have your attention? Hey! Could everyone take a seat now?
We’re ready to start with the program. Mr. Barclay Sphinx will talk with us, and
he’s going to ask Bianca Pescoli about her close encounter. She’s agreed to let
him ask her questions, so if you could all just take your seats. I know it’s
standing room only, so those of you on your feet, please take a spot near the
walls and please don’t block anyone’s view. Okay? . . . yes? Okay, we’re ready.
So, without further ado, Big Foot Believers, let me introduce you to Bianca
Pescoli and Barclay Sphinx!”
Amid a roar of clapping, Sphinx led Bianca to the stage, and as she sat in one
of the chairs, he replaced Carlton Jeffe center stage, standing at the podium.
Michelle and Luke moved into the main area, the larger room filled with
cheering, standing fans, but Pescoli grabbed a couple of cookies and hung back,
grateful to stand behind the stage in the doorway and observe the performance
while being able to watch everyone who was in attendance. The audience, after
the heartfelt welcome, took their seats.

---

Carlton Jeffe hadn’t been kidding. The place was packed, standing room only.
Three, or maybe closer to four hundred people filling the space. She picked out
many faces she recognized, including Santana as he walked inside and, a few
minutes later, Jeremy. Closer to the stage, Manny Douglas was chatting up a
woman reporter for a television station based in Missoula, a reporter who’d
interviewed Pescoli on more than one occasion.
As Pescoli munched on a dry store-bought gingersnap, she saw that Alvarez,
standing next to Dylan O’Keefe, was already in the crowd, keeping back, but
viewing the event as it unfolded. Even Blackwater had shown up, taking a
position in one of the dark corners, for once, it seemed, content to blend into the
surroundings and not try to be center court or in the limelight.
Shifting from one foot to the other, trying to stand beneath a cooling AC duct,
Pescoli finished the first cookie and started on the second, all the while
observing the proceedings. For the first forty-five minutes, Barclay Sphinx
talked about his career, the shows he was working on and specifically the
success of Big Foot Territory: Oregon! The crowd was quiet, aside from a few
whispers and, despite the warning, a couple of cell phones that jangled and were
quickly quieted. Sphinx was an accomplished speaker, gave anecdotes and
examples and proved to be able to laugh at himself. He drew everyone in. All in
all, the spectators were rapt, hanging on his every word.
“. . . so it only seemed natural,” he said, “that we do a spin-off. The network is
pushing for it, and we’ve got a production crew ready to go. I mean they are
already teed up. The only question was . . . where? We discussed Alaska and
Northern California, but there was talk of Montana and when we heard, just
recently, about several sightings in the area, capped by Bianca Pescoli’s
encounter, we thought, well, I thought Grizzly Falls would be a perfect location
for Big Foot Territory: Montana!”
The crowd went wild.
They hooted and hollered, and someone actually started a chant: “Big Foot!
Big Foot! Big Foot!”
“And I’m thinking this group, the Big Foot Believers, could be a big help.
With your knowledge of the area and history of sightings, your intense interest in
Big Foot, I think we could find one and catch it on film!”
More shouting and yelling and clapping and whistling. Like a damned revival
meeting.
Pescoli half expected to hear, “Amen, brother!”
Instead she saw Fred Nesmith approach the stage. “I need to ask you a
question,” he said to Sphinx.
“Shoot.”

---

“That’s exactly what I hoped you’d say!” Nesmith was a tall man, and thin,
with a long face, an Abe Lincoln beard, and deep-set eyes. Pescoli looked past
him but didn’t see Otis Kruger, who’d been with him earlier. “Cuz this is a real
reality show, yeah?” Nesmith questioned.
Ivor Hicks had joined Fred. He said, “Not scripted or nothin’, so we can really
hunt the sumbitches. Like they do on that gator show.”
“Excuse me?” Sphinx said. “You want to kill a Big Foot?”
“Absolutely!” Nesmith said, and a handful of men nodded their agreement.
Nesmith went on, “How else ya gonna prove that they exist? What we need is
the real thing. A carcass.”
Carlton Jeffe stepped in. “Fred, let’s not start all that killin’ talk up again.”
“I’m tellin’ ya, we need proof. This here’s our chance to finally get it.” To
Sphinx, Nesmith said, “You all got a chopper, right? For the production. And
tents and SUVs—the country around here is pretty damned rough.”
“Whoa, there.” Jeffe’s jaw was tight. “Not now, Fred. Let’s hear what Mr.
Sphinx has to say. You and Ivor, take your seats.”
“We’re just sick of sittin’ around and havin’ damned meetin’s,” Hicks
grumbled. “We need some action!”
“You tell ’em, old man!” a voice yelled out from the teenage boys who’d been
at the party over the weekend. Pescoli zeroed in on Bryant Tophman. “That’s
right!” Bryant averred.
His friends were agreeing as well, nodding and holding their fists in the air.
“Let’s get ’em!” Austin Reece said, inciting the others, who reacted by shouting:
“Yeah!”
“Let’s kill ’em!”
“Find those bastards!”
Jeffe was shaking his head, and some of the others were doing the same. “Let
Mr. Sphinx explain what he wants to do,” he nearly shouted.
“Goddammed sissies!” Ivor cried.
Fred joined in, “Yer all a bunch of blowhard pussies.”
“Hey! Watch your language!” Rod Larimer reprimanded. Owner of the Bull
and Bear Inn, he was in khakis and a dress shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows.
“We’ve got women here. Let’s keep this civil.”
“Civil, my ass!” another guy yelled. He was hidden by the others, but when
Ivor moved, Pescoli caught sight of Otis Kruger’s red face. Ah, there he was. An
instigator if there ever was one. He looked ready to charge out, guns blazing.
But Sphinx was cool, lifting his hands, then patting them downward,
indicating that everyone should quiet, which they did, some grumbling, a few
chanting a few final “Big Foots!” before trailing away as he spoke again.

---

“By now you’ve all heard about this most recent sighting that I mentioned,”
he said to a murmur of agreement. “Bianca Pescoli, a local teenager, was chased
by what she thinks was a Sasquatch, late Saturday night. The beast charged at
her and forced her to run down a steep hillside, where she was injured and,
believe it or not, nearly stumbled over the body of another girl, a classmate.”
Sphinx was solemn now. Sober as a judge. And appeared troubled.
“The girl, Destiny Rose Montclaire, was mercilessly killed, the victim of
homicide. An innocent young life cut short. Someone or something strangled her
and was strong enough to break her neck.”
Pescoli thought she should stop this and took a step forward, but she caught
Alvarez’s eye and the quick little shake of her head. The meeting-goers were
quiet, listening, all eyes on the speaker. It was so quiet that Pescoli heard her
own breathing above the humming AC.
“Was her murderer a rogue Big Foot?” he threw out to the group.
More whispering and one loud, “Hell, yeah!”
Sphinx shook his head. “We can’t go there . . . at least not yet. And I’m not so
certain. There’s a chance Big Foot just might be a gentle creature.” He paused
for effect, then said, “But who knows? Maybe we can find out. And yes, we’ll
use the most sophisticated technology: tracking systems, night vision, drones,
whatever it takes. We’ll find ’em.”
More murmurs of agreement. He had them. Everyone in the room was rapt,
and Barclay Sphinx knew it.
Gripping the sides of the podium, he swept his gaze over the crowd. “But we
owe it to Destiny to help the police catch her killer.”
Whispered agreement swept through the audience.
“Along with the new series Big Foot Territory: Montana! I’m putting up a
website connected to the show, but also to the Pinewood County Sheriff’s
Department, for people to access easily and offer up anything they might know
about the tragedy. I’ve already talked to Detective Regan Pescoli, lead
investigator on the case, and I’ll work with her to make sure the website is up to
date, the best technology available.”
“Wait a second,” Pescoli said, but her voice was drowned by the roar of
approval from the crowd. She hadn’t agreed to any of this.
Sphinx bent into the microphone. “It just so happens that Detective Pescoli is
Bianca’s mother, so it’s one tight little family. Let’s get started, shall we?”
And he did, sitting in a chair and facing Bianca as if they were alone, as if
there weren’t three hundred people plus hanging on their every word. He began
by asking Bianca question after question, leading her through her story so that
she told exactly what she saw and experienced. He was good, Pescoli gave him

---

that, even though her stomach was in knots as Bianca described the “monster
with an eye that seemed to glow,” its incredible height, and how it smelled. With
soft-spoken questions, he asked how she’d found the dead girl, and Bianca,
white-faced, her splint visible, relived her terror and the sheer horror of finding
the dead body, a classmate, as it turned out, in the water.
At that point, Sphinx turned to the crowd and said, “We’re not going to go into
this any further. There’s an ongoing homicide investigation and a family that is
devastated and grief-stricken, so we’ll confine the rest of this meeting to Big
Foot.” To Bianca, he said, “I believe that’s what you saw up on the mountain, at
Reservoir Point, a Sasquatch. A very close encounter. Thank you.”
His statement caused a fresh murmur to race through the crowd, a new jolt of
electricity. “Don’t you?” he said to the group as he stood at the podium again.
“Don’t you think Bianca, here, came across Big Foot?”
Whistling and clapping and hollering were the enthusiastic response.
Some of Bianca’s friends sidled closer to the stage. Pescoli made eye contact
with Austin Reece and TJ O’Hara, but the others, including Lara Haas, Lindsay
Cronin, and Maddie Averill, didn’t notice her and inched ever closer to the
podium.
“I think setting Big Foot Territory: Montana! right here in Grizzly Falls is a
great idea, and I think that Bianca Pescoli should relive her adventure, her
encounter, on screen. Don’t you?”
More wild applauding. Even Bianca’s friends, the kids who’d been busted up
at Reservoir Point, were clapping. Lara Haas and Maddie Averill were nodding
enthusiastically, TJ sending Bianca a thumbs-up signal.
Pescoli realized then that her daughter was a hometown celebrity. Her
stomach clenched. This was not good.
Sphinx stood and then, as Carlton Jeffe took command of the event again, the
audience was allowed to ask questions. They fired them mainly at Sphinx, thank
goodness, though Lucky had made his way onto the stage to sit next to his
daughter and hold her hand in between his—ever the doting father.
At his side was Michelle.
When Sphinx asked Bianca if she’d like to star in the first episode of Big Foot