“Then what?” I glanced at the thickly forested hills to the left and right before climbing down after him. Even with the sun high in the sky, the landscape seemed to afford far too many shadows in which a massive monster could hide.
“Shh.” Jackaby put a finger to his lips, peering up toward the hillside. “Do you hear something?”
I strained my ears. “Voices,” I said.
Jackaby nodded. He turned away from the hill and stalked up to the farmhouse, instead. Inside, he found Charlie Barker facing off against Lewis Lamb, Owen Horner, and Hugo Brisbee. Charlie turned as the detective approached. “Please, Mr. Jackaby, perhaps you can talk sense into them.”
“What on earth are you still doing here?” Jackaby demanded. “There is an impossible predator of monumental proportions bound to descend upon this property at any moment!”
“I told them as much.” Charlie sighed. “Mr. Horner refuses to leave. He says that the bones were his big discovery.”
“You two can’t possibly still be arguing about professional clout!” I said.
“It’s not like that,” Horner said. “I was here from the start, and I’ll see it through to the end. Bones like those are the reason I got into this business, and you and I both know we’ll never find anything like that specimen again, not if we dig till the day we die. I’ve already put up with this ornery bastard for the past week.” He jabbed a thumb at Lamb. “A new monster should be a change of pace, at least.”
“For once I must admit Horner has a point,” Lamb said. “I haven’t defended my dig site all this time just to watch it be obliterated by . . . by some wild animal.” The paleontologist still could not bring himself to call the creature a dragon.
“What about you, Mr. Brisbee?” Jackaby turned to the farmer, who was sitting upright on the sofa but still looked a little wan. “You’ve seen firsthand the reason you should be running.”
Brisbee nodded solemnly. “None of you would be out here if it weren’t for my stupid pride. I lost my wife worrying about pictures on the front page.” He sniffed. “Then I made it worse, disrespecting the dead. I brought this down on you folks, brought it down on myself, and on this farm. We built that barn with our bare hands, and now it’s torn up like a tin can. Maddie and I didn’t raise our sons to let other folks clean up their messes, and I’ll be damned if I leave anyone to clean up mine. If they aren’t leaving, I’m not leaving.”
Jackaby sighed. “You are all going to die. Miss Rook, shall we be off?”
“Wait, please,” I said. “If anyone understands the significance of the site, it’s me. I promise to look after your findings, gentlemen. Mr. Horner, if Professor Lamb survives but you’re killed, do you really believe he will give you even a footnote in his lectures? And you, Professor—do you think Mr. Horner will hesitate a moment before taking full credit for this discovery the instant you’re out of the way?”
The two men scowled at each other for a moment, and then Horner shrugged. “Well, she’s not wrong,” he admitted.
Lamb nodded. “If you head back to Gadston, I suppose I could be persuaded to come along—if only to keep an eye on you and ensure you don’t go spreading more slander to the press about this disaster of a dig.”
“Well, Mr. Brisbee?” I said. “I promise we will look after your farm as well. Your barn can be repaired, and your home can be protected—but your boys have already lost one parent this week. Please.”
The farmer nodded slowly. “Thank you, Miss Rook. I—I’ll ride back with the scientists. Someone’s got to keep those two from killing each other.”
“Wonderful,” said Charlie. “Now out! All of you!”
“Wait a moment,” I said as the crowd filed out the door warily. “Where is Miss Fuller?”
Charlie frowned. “She wasn’t here when I returned from Hudson’s cabin. I suppose it’s too much to hope that she headed for safety?”