Mosquito Bite Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  Then there are the people who can fake intelligence or idiocy. You just never know. And now I was kicking myself for not grilling Chad.

  "What do you think?" Riley appeared next to me.

  "I'm at a complete loss. I have no ability to make a decision whatsoever. I don't know if we should just pack up and leave, take the body, or bring law enforcement back here. What do you think?"

  He faked shock. "Me? You're asking me? For my opinion?"

  "Okay." I rolled my eyes. "Then we'll go back, you'll carry Chad, and that's that."

  Riley chuckled. "That's hardly a solution."

  "Okay, let's hash this out. Who do you think Chad really is?"

  "According to his wallet…" Riley pulled a wallet from his pocket. "His name is Frederick Salt."

  I reached for it, but he pulled it out of my reach.

  "Where did you get that? We couldn't find it before."

  "He had it strapped to his thigh, under his shorts."

  I looked at Chad's khakis before pulling Riley to the other side of the room. We turned our backs to the others so they couldn't hear us. "Well, besides that being super gross, that hardly seems to be the actions of an innocent man. Especially since he gave us another name." This new intel leaned more toward my suspicion that he was murdered.

  "I agree," Riley said as he handed me the wallet. "I don't think we have to worry about fingerprints considering where I found it."

  I opened it. "What made you check his thigh anyway?"

  "I frisked him. He was dead. Didn't seem like it would be a problem."

  The wallet contained Frederick's driver's license. He was forty-two and lived in Des Moines. Behind the wallet was a permit to carry a concealed weapon. That was also for Frederick. There was also an insurance card that gave nothing new. Then I got to the money.

  "He's got five thousand dollars in here!" I fingered five $1000 bills featuring Grover Cleveland. "These are rare! I haven't seen one since…"

  "They're real too." Riley took the wallet back. "I checked."

  "How did you check? Do you have cell service and Wi-Fi?"

  He shook his head. "There are ways…"

  I realized that I didn't care. "Okay, so Chad isn't Chad. He's Frederick. He's licensed to carry a concealed weapon…"

  "Which I did not find on him," Riley said.

  "And he has extremely rare, expensive money in his wallet."

  We blinked at each other.

  "He's not in IT for a data company," I said after a beat. "But what was he?"

  Riley ran his hands through his hair. "Chad worked hard to make us think he's a stooge. But a hidden wallet with a secret identity, rare currency, and a concealed carry license indicates we've been played."

  "He could've been here for Hilly," I mused. "Or Maria."

  Riley nodded. "I don't think we can rule that out."

  "If only we could determine when he died. Then we could figure out who was missing at that time." I threw my hands in the air. "Where's a medical examiner when you need one…in the middle of nowhere?"

  Betty appeared in front of us with Hilly's bayonet. "We could do an autopsy. I saw a show on it once."

  "That was an alien autopsy," Lauren corrected as she joined us. "That thing had four of every organ."

  Betty shrugged. "Same thing. Maybe Chad was an alien. How would we know if we didn't do an autopsy?"

  Ava appeared and nodded as if this made perfect sense. "It would be cool if he's an alien. Or different species. You know, cows have four stomachs. Maybe he's a cow?"

  Lauren shook her head. "They have four chambers, not four stomachs. But octopuses have three hearts."

  Ava thought about this. "So he's an octopus?"

  Betty shrugged. "We'll never know unless we cut him open."

  "We're not cutting him open." I held my hands up. "And I'm pretty sure he's not a cow or an octopus. He's just a guy. A dead guy." I looked at Riley. "We're going to have to move him."

  "Those women already did," Betty said. When I looked at her with surprise, she added, "Relax. We took pictures before they moved him."

  We turned around and the girl was right. Chad wasn't there anymore. I'd lost control of the crime scene! And I wasn't even sure if it was a crime scene. Well, not 100% that is.

  I looked around. "Where did they put him?"

  "In the freezer," Betty said. "That's a good place for a body, right?"

  "But they don't have electricity," I pointed out.

  "They said it didn't matter because they don't have any other use for it," Lauren said.

  In a way, that made sense. And it would be sealed, so no bugs or vermin could get inside. I walked over to the empty chair and noticed a strange chalk outline around it.

  "Is that a llama?" I pointed to the outline of a llama, sitting in a chair, that surrounded where Chad had been.

  The others joined me, and Betty looked down. "I'm not good at drawing people yet," she said, "but I'm good at drawing snakes and llamas. Chad's body didn't fit with the snake thing, so I made him a llama."

  "It's pretty good," I had to admit. "I can see it clearly." I pointed to a strange long shape sticking out of the llama's neck. "What's that?"

  "Hilly's teaching me how to make a blowgun, so I thought maybe that's how Chad died," the girl said. "Or he took an ice pick to the neck. I'm not entirely sure."

  "Very dramatic," I said.

  "Thanks." Betty stuck her notebook and pencil back into her pocket, and when she withdrew her hand, it was covered in something blue that looked like ink. She studied it and then shook her head. "Looks like Hilly got me back. It's my turn to escalate things."

  "No," I admonished. "I don't think you two should be pranking each other." I mean, after mousetraps and ink, this could devolve into nightmarish proportions with spiders in sleeping bags or booby-trapped hiking boots.

  "Hilly's right," Betty said. "You're no fun anymore." And then she walked away.

  "I am fun! I'm totally fun! Hilly doesn't know everything!" I called out to her, but the kid ignored me.

  Hilly was kind of right on one thing. I'm terrible at pranks. No matter how I try, they always end disastrously with the other person injured, their reputation in ruins, or in the case of a cross-dressing moose herder in Finland, a newly brought on fear of moose. Maybe rigging his herd with a sound system that made it seem like they were possessed by Satan had been a bad idea. Oh, it was hilarious when they demanded he sell them his soul for a pint of lutefisk, but Sven was never the same after that.

  "Are we really leaving tomorrow?" Ava tugged on my T-shirt. "I think we should stay here a few more days. Just to make sure things are alright."

  Aww. That was sweet. My troop was so thoughtful. "You're worried about the ladies?"

  Ava seemed surprised by my question. "What? No! They can take care of themselves. I just want to solve this. It's good experience for me as mayor."

  Lauren lit up. "That's a great idea! You could be a crime fighting mayor!"

  Betty started writing in her notebook. "I think we could sway voters with that. Something like, Ava for Mayor—Killer Catcher! We could totally make that work."

  Ava preened. "I've never heard of a detective mayor before! I'd be the first one!"

  That would be a good selling point. I was planning to vote for her anyway, but if I'd been on the fence, this would move the needle in her direction. "Who do you think the suspects are?"

  The three girls crowded into a huddle, whispering fiercely.

  Riley took the opportunity to speak. "If he's in the freezer, then I say we hike back to civilization and return with the sheriff. The crime scene has already been tampered with."

  "Okay. We're ready," Betty announced. "We know who did it."

  "You do?" I asked skeptically.

  "Absolutely. It was the commies," she said with the absolute authority of a charismatic dictator.

  "You mean the Russians," I countered.

  "No, the commies. Betty Sr. has been telling us ab
out something called the Domino Effect."

  This was going to be good.

  "We don't really understand it, but if one noncommie falls, the others will fall too. It's logic," Betty added.

  I pressed her, "So what are you saying?"

  "Helloooo. That the commies did it," Lauren repeated and then rolled her finger on the side of her head, indicating I'd lost my mind.

  "I'm good with that," Riley said.

  "If I agree, can we leave tomorrow?" I asked.

  The girls looked at me blankly.

  "Of course," Lauren said. "You're the leader. Duh."

  And with that, they walked away whispering and glancing at me with some measure of alarm. They may have thought I'd lost my wits, but they were right. I was the leader.

  And I had no idea what I was doing.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "You can stay in Possum Pass for the night," Betty Sr. said. "There's four cots to a platform tent."

  "Alright, girls…and Riley," I announced, "get your backpacks and let's head out."

  We'd already assigned tents. Hilly and I would take one because I wanted her and Betty separated in hopes of avoiding more pranking. Betty, Lauren, Inez, and Ava would take the tent next to us with the two Kaitlyns in a tent on the other side. Riley would have his own tent on the other side of them.

  It wasn't a perfect set up. I probably should've crammed all six girls in one tent, but the older women told me that was a fire hazard. Which is why the Kaitlyns had their own tent. Hopefully, I could talk Inez into keeping an eye on Betty in her tent.

  As we hiked along the trail and the sky started to darken, I wondered for the eight millionth time what I'd gotten myself into. We'd just come out here to rendezvous with Maria and find the remains of an old camp. Instead, we found a body, no Maria, an almost who became an actual dead guy, a surprise visit from a CIA assassin, and an elderly Scout troop who'd been here since the 1960s.

  I didn't know how this was going to end up, but either way, I had no idea how I was ever going to explain this to Kelly once we got back home.

  We started a fire at our campsite for the light and then set up our bunks. There were no mattresses on the wire bed frames, because as the ladies told us, the mice had eaten them long ago. Still, we all had sleeping bag pads to put the bags on, so we'd find a little comfort.

  "I need to reapply the bug spray." I held my hand out to Hilly for her can.

  She shook her head. "Not a good idea. Besides, you really won't need to for at least a week."

  "You're joking," I said as I spotted Riley slapping a mosquito on his arm. "Do you want to borrow some?" I asked him.

  "No." Riley scratched at the bite. "I just need to put on more Gucci." He walked away from the fire and began to spray himself.

  Hilly giggled. "I guess the tables have turned, huh?"

  I stretched my non-mosquito bitten limbs. "I guess so. But you'll have to tell me what's in that stuff."

  The ladies started to arrive for s'mores, and Hilly went to greet them instead of answering me.

  "Oh my!" Ada moaned as she finished off her fourth one. "We haven't had any of these ingredients for fifty years."

  The girls had made their usual three apiece and then proceeded to make Hilly, Riley, and me about two dozen more. The older women wanted to do their own. They still had the roasting sticks, just no marshmallows, chocolate, or graham crackers.

  Betty's favorite marshmallow was in the form of a charcoal briquet—blazing on the outside with molten lava inside. Apparently, the older Betty liked hers that way too, as the pair of them tried to outdo each other in a strange marshmallow burning competition. Betty Jr. prevailed when she burned hers so badly it turned to ash and fell to the ground. Betty Sr. looked impressed.

  "It's too bad about your friend," one of the Sharons said. "It's damned dangerous having commies around."

  "Did any of you know Chad?" I asked casually.

  "No." Ada turned her golden brown marshmallow to evenly heat it. "Never saw him before."

  Hilly raised her hand. "Hey, I have a question! How have you all kept your clothes from disintegrating?"

  That's when I noticed the ladies were wearing jackets.

  "I'm curious too," I said. "If those clothes are fifty years old, they're in good shape."

  "We scavenge from time to time," Betty Sr. said as she pulled a flaming marshmallow from the fire.

  "Scavenge?" Hilly asked. "Here?"

  Esme nodded. "From time to time, scientists come to these woods. We steal their shirts."

  One of the Sharons opened her jacket to reveal Biologists Do It in the Wild!

  Laura has one that says Physics—How Stuff Does Other Stuff.

  The other Sharon said, "We've since decided that scientists aren't very smart. We're not really sure what the first one means, but the second one? Of course it's how stuff does other stuff!"

  The six women laughed at that.

  "We soon discovered that," Betty Sr. said, "the scientists think their shirts or jackets are carried off by squirrels. After a few years of that, they kept a close eye on things. That's when we came up with the idea of ghosts, and we started making spooky sounds whenever we saw them. We got some fishing line and used it to make objects appear to be floating in midair. Now they think the place is haunted and never come here." She looked at the stars overhead. "Now that I think about it, scaring them off probably wasn't the smartest thing we've ever done. We haven't had new clothes in years."

  "You invented ghosts?" Lauren squealed.

  "Oh sure," Laura said. "It's not hard. We thought the scientists would figure it out, but they never did."

  "How did you make spooky sounds?" Hilly asked.

  Esme answered, "Ada has a super scary voice."

  Ada nodded. "I really do." She closed her eyes and let out an unholy scream that seemed to shake the trees.

  After a moment of awed silence, the girls and Hilly got to their feet in a standing ovation.

  When the applause died down, I asked, "Have you guys thought of leaving here and going back home?"

  The six women looked at each other but didn't answer.

  I pressed, "Have you come close to going back?"

  "Of course," one of the Sharons said at last. "But we never go through with it."

  "What about your moms and dads?" Inez asked. "Don't you miss them?"

  I wondered if the girls realized that there most likely weren't any parents of this group still living.

  "I'd totally run away and live here," Betty said. "This place is awesome. No one telling you, 'Betty, stop mixing explosives in the bathtub…' 'Betty, you can't keep signing your brother up for the Merchant Marines…' 'Betty, you aren't supposed to sell Girl Scout cookies on the dark web!"

  "Wait," I called out. "Back up…you're selling cookies on the dark web?"

  Betty nodded. "I make 217% profit off of some of the conspiracy nuts on there."

  I frowned. "I don't remember you turning in that much money after the last cookie sale."

  Betty calmly shoved three giant marshmallows into her mouth and was thus unable to answer. It was a slick move. I should've packed those with me on missions.

  "Well, we'd better leave you to it." Betty Sr. got to her feet slowly. "Goodnight."

  The others got up, and we watched as they walked off into the darkness. They never answered our questions about wanting to go back.

  "Betty," I said, "we need to talk."

  "Mmmrmmpfhhh," the girl said, pointing to her mouth. She took out her notepad and wrote Betty can't talk now, but if you leave a message, she might consider getting back to you.

  * * *

  "Lights out!" I called out as everyone settled in their platform tents for the night.

  One by one, flashlights went dark and I heard the creaking of bed springs. I went back to my tent and got everyone settled. As usual, I was prepared to stay up as long as I needed to keep Betty and Lauren from breaking out and running amok.

  Fortunat
ely, it didn't take long. Everything went silent (except for Riley slapping at mosquitos) and stayed that way. Hilly even started to snore. For the first time since we'd left yesterday, I was starting to relax.

  Camping at night was one of my favorite things. The crisp, clean air, the brightness of the stars, the hooting owls…all made me sleep better. The cicadas should've kicked in by now. They were my favorite white noise.

  Hilly sat up. "Can't sleep?"

  "I'm waiting for the cicadas," I whispered back. "They usually knock me out."

  "Oh, sorry about that. I told them to be quiet tonight." Then she lay back down and rolled over before I could ask how she managed that.

  I leaned back on my small pillow and stared at the ceiling. What a strange trip this turned out to be. Of course we'd had to stay the night. It would take too long to hike back in the dark. But did I really want to head out in the morning?

  Okay, if I'd been honest with myself, I'd admit that I didn't. I never could resist a mystery, and there were too many here to ignore. Including the women ignoring the question of why they were still here after all these years. I'd have gone back the moment the junk food ran out.

  Another thing that bothered me was that Chad's death didn't seem like the most important mystery. Possibly that was because I couldn't prove he'd been murdered. It was just a feeling I had. There were too many pieces that cried out for attention, from his kidnapping story to his odd behavior.

  And if it was just natural causes, then I guess except for the fact that there was a body in a hot freezer, I could let the girls stay another day. These older women seemed pretty harmless and seemed to like the company. Another reason we should stay would be to convince them to come back to the real world.

  Maybe it wasn't so bad that Maria was AWOL. The idea relaxed me a little. After all, what did I owe her? Sure, she was my friend, but all this cloak and dagger stuff was getting ridiculous. If I changed my mindset to Chad dying of natural causes and it was up to Maria to get in touch with me if she really wanted my help, then I could relax and enjoy this strange trip back in time.