The Cryptid Files by Jean Flitcroft Page B

clearly a woman, maybe in her thirties, but her features were hard to make out as part of the picture had lifted. Her hair was smooth and cut to her shoulders and Vanessa could see that she was very beautiful indeed. There was something about her face that made Vanessa feel sad. She sat down and leaned back against the wall to think.
    Who was she and how had her picture got here, under a pile of rocks? Questions with no answers; more confusion. It was exhausting trying to sort it out. She needed to swim; she needed to be in the water to cool her brain.
    Vanessa closed the locket and cleaned it as best she could on her jeans and then put it around her neck. Luckily, the chain was long enough to go over her head, as the clasp was rusted and couldn’t be opened. Her dad would oil it for her. Dad. In her mind, she saw him for a second in the front seat of a car. She could see the back of his neck and the flecks of grey through his hair. He was driving; he was driving to … But her mind, playing tricks again, shut down. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes in frustration. Why couldn’t she remember? Why wouldn’t this dream let her go?
    Vanessa stood at the edge, cupping the locket tightly in her palm, and then, without even looking, she jumped out high into the air before plunging deep into the water below.

CHAPTER 22
    On 27 July 1973, five people outside the Foyers Hotel watched something move quickly across the loch. One witness, Mr E. Moran from Yorkshire, said, ‘although I was a sceptic before now, I don’t mind what anyone else thinks – I am convinced that I have seen a creature of some kind in Loch Ness’.
    Alan and Luke decided that they would go into the village with Lee to ask about Vanessa, while Maggie and Ronan stayed at the cottage in case she turned up. Alan tried hard to stay focused on the most likely possibilities and the relief he would feel when she sauntered up to him without even realising that she had caused such worry. He pleaded with Marie in his head, begged her to help him. He couldn’t lose Vanessa too.
    He pictured her face, her playful smile and tousled hair that gave her such a careless appearance and belied her sharp, inquisitive mind. He had to admit that this wasn’t like Vanessa at all.
    They talked to everyone in the village, from the lock keeper to Mrs MacNab and her daughters who worked in the grocery store, but there had been no sightings of Vanessa at all in the village that afternoon. Alan felt his heart begin to thump hard in his chest.
    â€˜What now? Luke’s question was almost inaudible.
    It was really dark now, and getting cold as they made their way back, running most of the way to the cottage in the hope of some news there. Alan slowed with a stitch in his side. He was either more unft than he thought or panic was constricting every muscle in his body.
    â€˜Where’s the closest police station, Lee?’ Alan’s voice was dull with pain.
    â€˜I’ll call when we get back. It’s Graham Maguire in Drumnadrochit we need. Maggie knows him well.’
    â€˜Luke and I will get some torches and walk along the loch edge. Maybe she’s fallen somewhere and twisted her ankle in the dark.’ His voice grew stronger.
    Luke looked at him with a hunted expression. His mouth was in a grim line and he was on the brink of tears.
    â€˜We’re going to find her, Luke. I promise you.’
    The road back to the cottage stretched before them interminably as they made their way home in silence, each deep in thought, each terrified at the possibilities. They scanned the ditches and hedgerows for any signs – half in dread, half in hope.
    None of them saw the small figure run out onto the cottage driveway, but they began to sprint as soon as the shouting started. Someone was waving a torch and screaming up ahead.
    â€˜It’s Ronan, Dad,’ Luke shouted as he sped ahead of the other two. Within seconds, they were