Mo tipped his head back and laughed hard. “Oh, Alvar, you have a bitter, mean streak in you! Whatever happened to make you so nasty?”
Laine clenched then relaxed his fists. Mo should already know the answer to that question. “I call it as I see it.”
Mo nodded slowly, waved a hand in a gesture of truce. “So how’s it going out there? Find anything?”
Laine’s eyes widened. “You see! You’re just desperate for new stories. You can fuck off, Mo. You’ll get nothing from me.”
Mo chuckled deep in his throat and wagged one index finger like a schoolteacher. “You’re easier to play than a cheap fiddle, Alvar Laine.” His eyes narrowed, his expression suddenly serious. “But I’m watching you.”
Before Laine could respond, the old man turned and walked off back toward his shack in the forest out of town. Laine had no idea why he let Mo get to him the way he did, but it had been that way since Laine was a child. Everyone in town at least endured the white haired old yarn-spinner, most seemed to love him, thought him some valuable elder. But nobody else seemed to see the bastard for what he really was. Why was Laine the only one who saw through that kindly old man bullshit? Why could only he see the real danger Mo represented? Whatever. As long as he kept out of the way and didn’t risk Laine’s new income stream here, he could continue to be ignored. It wasn’t like he would really be able to mess up any plans.
Laine sneered. Maybe Mo’s interests all cut a little too close to the bone. Perhaps that was it. He shook his head and turned back toward home, his mood dampened. If the old bastard had made him too late for breakfast with his family, he’d be extra pissed off.
The Merenneito spent the morning cruising back and forth, the crew reading sonar and getting thoroughly bored. Dave and Carly sat around chatting with nothing to do, Slater stalked about making everyone feel as though they should be working harder. Holloway’s enthusiasm was undiminished as he made noises of wonder at the slightest thing.
Aston was surprised at how many deep channels they were finding. When Holloway pressed him, he made the billionaire happier still when he admitted there was every possibility some of the channels could potentially lead all the way out to the ocean under the Finnish coastline. But he insisted it was equally likely that none of them did.
“Either way, not much chance of me ever being able to film that,” Dave said, a little bitterly.
“Not to worry,” Holloway reassured him. “There’ll be wonders for you to film before this expedition is over, I guarantee you that!”
Dave snorted, shook his head. “How can you guarantee anything of the sort?” He grinned. “I’m starting to think Gazsi had the right idea. Not about being scared, but I bet he’s in a nice warm pub enjoying a few beers right about now.”
An hour later they broke for lunch and Slater said to Dave, “As you’re bored, I’ve got a job for you.”
The cameraman winced. “Should have kept my stupid mouth closed!”
“There’s another rubber dinghy?” Slater asked Makkonen.
“Yes, one more.”
She turned back to Dave. “Laine should be back any time now, so how about you take that one out and get some shoreline shots.”
Dave raised an eyebrow. “Shoreline?”
“Yes, take the small video camera and row along near the shore, hold the camera low near the water and get some shots of the shore from, like, a monster’s eye view, you know? Like something watching the land from the water, that kind of thing.”
Dave nodded, lips pursed. “Yeah, okay, I see what you mean. I can do that. What if something exciting happens here?” His smirk betrayed his opinion of that likelihood.
“Carly can catch anything here,” Slater said. She looked over to the quiet sound girl. “She’s a pretty accomplished camera operator too, right?”
Carly jumped slightly, and then nodded. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have Dave’s skills, but I can point his camera if necessary.”
Half an hour later Aston helped Dave pull the cord to inflate the second of their blue and orange rubber dinghies at the dive platform.
“Shame you drank all my beer,” Dave said. “I could have had a nice quiet afternoon out on the water with a few drinks.”
Aston let his mouth fall open, mock outrage. “Me? I reckon you had a fair go at that stash yourself. And Carly and your boss were instrumental too.”
“Yeah, but you Aussies live up to your reputation as big drinkers,” Dave said. “Talk about pounding some brews. You raced us two for one all night.”
“Did I?” Aston was genuinely contrite, a wave of guilt making him blush slightly.
Dave grinned and slapped his shoulder. “As a matter of fact, you did, but it’s okay. We’ll have to try to get some more though. Maybe I can sneak away and make a beer run?”
Aston liked the idea, but couldn’t imagine Dave rowing like Laine. “It’s way too far in this thing,” he said.
“The thought of a night off, a hotel bed, a few drinks in a warm bar… It’s all very tempting,” Dave said wistfully.
“You know what? I’ll talk to Slater and Holloway. Maybe we can go to the pub in town for a break tonight or tomorrow. We can declare the need for a crew morale-boosting outing. Then you and me can sneak some takeaways back on board afterwards.”
“I don’t like your chances of convincing Holloway.”
Aston shrugged. “True. But it’s worth a try. Better than you rowing all that way!”
“Maybe.” Dave stared out across the lake. “Honestly, Sam, this whole thing is bullshit, right?”
“Quite possibly.”
“So if I did head off for the day, enjoy some beers, I wouldn’t miss anything? And I can still get the shots Jo’s talking about along the way.”
“Let me talk to Holloway. I’ll convince him.” Aston held the dinghy steady while Dave climbed in.
“Okay” the cameraman said. “Just don’t forget about me out here.”
Aston grinned. “Get your shots, then row back out into plain sight. We’ll come and get you.”
After several more hours of mapping the team was finally beginning to expand on their original grid. The results were interesting, but only geographically. Nothing on sonar indicated anything bigger than fish and no more evidence had been found of anything other than a huge, largely empty lake.
Aston had repeatedly stood on deck with binoculars looking back to shore to see if Dave was ready to be picked up, but the cameraman was lost among the ridges and folds of the shoreline. Probably enjoying a bit of peace and quiet, Aston thought with a smile.
As the afternoon wore on, he began to get a little more concerned at the cameraman’s absence. Maybe he had gone to the pub in town for a few beers after all. At least, Aston hoped that was the case. He was about to go and suggest to Makkonen that they take the Merenneito close to shore and look for him when the sound of a burbling engine drifted through the air. He scanned back toward town and saw their tin boat, piloted by Laine. The cryptozoologist towed the rubber dinghy he had taken to town along in his wake. A few minutes later Aston was helping the man tie the inflatable at the dive platform then re-cradle the tinny.
“Where was it?” Aston asked as Slater joined them. Carly stood nearby, Dave’s main camera balanced on her shoulder.
“Not far from here,” Laine said. “I found it on the way out, used it to get to town and back. Gazsi must have taken a long walk like Makkonen suggested.” He began unloading plastic bags of groceries and handing them out to be carried inside.
“Did you see Dave out there?” Slater asked.
Laine laughed. “Yes, I did. Has he deserted us too?”