“I love your unswerving commitment to the project.” Slater paused, looking out across the lake. “I thought I was prepared for what we’re up against, but this is so much more vast and remote than I imagined. I could almost believe there’s something here.”
“Oh, there’s something here all right. Salmon, zooplankton, moose, but no lake monster.” He turned and fixed her with a hard look. “Do you actually believe there’s even a remote possibility that such a creature exists?”
Slater’s eyes fell and she shrugged. “No. I mean, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Even if there is, what are the odds we’ll find it? This lake is twenty-five miles long, twelve miles wide, and more than six hundred and fifty feet deep in spots. It could hold Loch Ness a dozen times over.”
“And the spirit award goes to…” Slater forced a smile, glanced away, and took a deep breath. Aston couldn’t help but notice the swell of her breasts against her tight t-shirt as her chest rose, but he hastily looked away. “I know the odds are slim. I want to believe, but the truth is, I’m here for the money just like you, and for the content. Viewers back home eat this sort of thing up.” She made a small circle with her hand that took in the surrounding landscape. “It’s kind of crazy, actually. You find a forbidding locale, feed the viewers a few legends, treat everything like it’s deadly serious, and they don’t seem to care that, week after week, you come up with a whole lot of nothing.”
“So you don’t care that you’re lying to them?” Aston wasn’t sure why he said that. He had no qualms about lying to people. Still, Slater rubbed him the wrong way, though he could already tell she wasn’t as vapid as he’d initially assumed.
“I’m not a scientist, I’m an entertainer. You’re the one searching for provable facts. The only thing I do is provide couch potatoes with something to wonder about for an hour, once a week for twenty-two weeks a year.”
Aston detected a tone of bitterness in her voice, and he turned to face her. She once again leaned on the rail, staring out at the horizon.
Slater sighed. “It sucks, you know.”
“What’s that?”
“Producing fluff all the time. Just once I’d like to do something of substance. Find a lost city or a previously-unknown creature. Not for the fame and glory — that’s Holloway’s thing. I’d just like for people to see me as something other than a talking set of boobs.”
Aston felt his face go red. Slater noticed.
“Too honest for you?” She smirked at him.
He shook his head. “No, just realizing I’m guilty as charged.” He swallowed hard. “Sorry about that. I’m just…” He didn’t know what he ‘just’ was.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re hardly the first.” She folded her arms across her chest as if suddenly conscious of her snug-fitting clothing. “Besides, I’m sold that way by the producers and I play up to it because that’s my job.” She turned her eyes back toward the lake. “So you really don’t think there’s any chance something could be out here?”
Aston shook his head. “I suppose there could be something unusual, but mundane, like an undiscovered variety of giant eel. I don’t think there’ll be anything along the lines of what Holloway is expecting to find. Even this lake isn’t large enough to support a breeding population of apex predators, and he knows it. He must know it. He’s fooling himself.”
“But what about the picture? The last one in Sweeney’s camera?”
“It’s a fake.” Slater raised an eyebrow and he hurried on. “A teenager with free software and his mother’s computer could create a convincing monster photograph. It would be child’s play for someone with Holloway’s resources, and you can’t tell me he’s above doing that.”
“What would be the point of faking evidence just to take us on a fruitless expedition?”
“Oh, I don’t think he considers it pointless at all. He’s a true believer. He wants us to believe.” He grinned. “Perhaps he suspects that some of our group are only here for the money. And maybe he’s the kind who thinks if we all believe hard enough, something will happen.”
The roar of the engine subsided and the boat slowed.
Slater grinned. “Come on. It’s show time.”
They made their way to the cabin where Holloway waited. The man was a bundle of nervous energy, pacing to and fro, fidgeting, and talking incessantly. He smirked at Slater and Aston when they entered. “Glad you could join us.”
“What’s his problem?” Aston muttered.
“The local police superintendent, a guy named Paavoe Rinne, shook him down just before we set sail. I don’t know how much Holloway had to pay the guy.”
Holloway rounded on them and his dark countenance brightened. “Ah, the cameraman’s here. We can get started.” He cast an approving glance at Dave, who gave him a thumbs-up from behind the lens.
“Watch out,” Aston said in a voice so low that only Slater could hear. “I think he’s in love.”
She cocked her head. “With Dave?”
“With the camera.”
Slater giggled. “I don’t know. He looks more like a boom man to me.”
Aston covered his laugh with a loud cough. Unfortunately for him, Carly chose that moment to swing the boom in his direction, and the sight of the phallic microphone made him guffaw.
“Are you all right? Not coming down with a cold, I hope?” Holloway asked.
“Right as rain. I’ve just never been that comfortable on camera. I laugh when I’m nervous.”
Slater interceded suggesting Aston, Holloway, and Laine move out onto the bow. Makkonen and Gaszi watched with hooded eyes from the helm as they left.
Slater arrayed the three men in what she deemed the ideal positions, Aston and Laine either side of Holloway. Then she set her own people before stepping into the middle of the shot.
Dave counted down from five with his fingers, and then pointed to Slater. As if flipping a switch, she adopted a look of intense concentration. “What is this place?” she asked Laine.
“This is Sweeney’s last known location, give or take. Unfortunately, the man who found his equipment didn’t make note of the exact spot.”
Slater looked out at the dark expanse of shoreline and gave a small shake of her head. “It’s going to be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack, isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily,” Holloway said. “We’ve got a couple of tricks up our sleeve.” He looked straight at the camera and smiled.
“Cut!” Slater called. “We can use that, but I need you,” she looked at Holloway, “to avoid looking directly into the camera. Okay?”
“Sure,” Holloway agreed. He clapped twice and called for Joaquin, who seemed to melt out of the shadows. The way the man moved was uncanny.
“The drone is ready, boss.” He held up a remote control. “Just give me the word.”
“Give us five minutes to get set and then we’ll start,” Slater said.
They gathered back in the cabin where Laine took a seat in front of a video display and Slater sat Aston in front of the sonar and underwater video monitors. Holloway stood just out of camera range. Aston couldn’t deny that, despite the Merenneito’s drab exterior, the man had invested in some decent equipment. The gear mounted on the gunwales that he had yet to investigate intrigued him too. The large, brand new harpoon gun was obvious and a little unnerving, but the other major addition looked to be a giant motorized net, and that only made Aston laugh.
“Joaquin is going to take the drone up and down the shore, looking for wallows like the one Sweeney photographed,” Slater said. “Laine will watch the feed from the drone, while you and I keep an eye on the others.”