Mosquito Bite Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  Riley looked at me. "Well, that's a fair point. But it makes sense for the agency to send her here. She knows you and the girls. You wouldn't be as suspicious of her. If they'd sent anyone else, you would be."

  "Wouldn't Chad have recognized Hilly's voice during the interrogation?" I wondered.

  My former handler shook his head. "They've got all kinds of voice disguising equipment now. She could've sounded like a man to him."

  I hadn't thought of that. Riley made some solid points. If the CIA sent anyone else out here to find Maria, we'd know what they were up to. If they'd sent Hilly, they'd know it might confuse us.

  Riley sighed. He'd been trying to get me to look critically at Hilly for a long time. Was this proof he was right? "Maybe she was trying to throw you off. Pin it on one of those little old ladies."

  I thought for a moment. "Lauren says Laura acted suspiciously." I explained what the girl had heard her counterpart say about killing Chad.

  He was silent for a minute. "Do you want to solve this?"

  I silently mouthed yes but said, "Of course not! I don't want to find out Maria or Hilly did it!" But I kind of did. I guess I really wanted to know.

  "What if they didn't?" Riley changed tactics. "If it was proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that our former colleagues were innocent, then what?"

  I really didn't want it to be the old ladies either. "That makes all the rest of us suspects, and it wasn't me, you, or the girls."

  He smiled. "Are you sure it wasn't me?"

  I couldn't tell if he was teasing or not. Riley did field work before he became my handler. He was management all the way after that. I couldn't think of a time where he'd told me he'd been involved in wet work. "Get serious," I said.

  "About the older women…" Riley lowered his voice. "What do we really know about them?"

  I shrugged. "Just what they've told us. That they've been hermits here since the 60s. That they're Girl Scouts. That they think the commies are still the biggest enemy America faces."

  "Wrath," Riley said exasperatedly, "we don't know their last names! And they claim to be from a town that's since gone extinct. Don't you wonder if there's a connection with Chad?"

  "How?" It seemed impossible. "He was born more than ten years after they left."

  Riley seemed frustrated that I didn't see things his way. "Doesn't it bother you that they've never shown any concern about the families they left behind?"

  I had to admit it did. "Yes, but there could be all kinds of reasons for that."

  "Why didn't anyone come looking for them after the camp closed?"

  Dammit. I hated it when he came up with better questions than I. "Maybe they did. But then, it seems they would've lured them home. But the fact is, I don't know."

  Riley didn't say anything for a moment. "Maybe we should stick around and find out."

  "How do we do that without raising suspicion?"

  He smiled. "Leave that to me. I might be able to charm them."

  "Leave Betty Sr. to me," I said. "If she really is Betty's doppelganger, she won't fall for it."

  We decided that was a plan and walked the rest of the way in silence. Riley could be a pain in the butt, but he really might have something there. I believed some of their story. Obviously these women were hermits—possibly insane hermits. But we knew nothing about them beyond that.

  And Chad did say he felt uncomfortable here and that something was familiar. Even though he couldn't possibly have known these ladies, there might've been another connection. Maybe one of them looked like his mother or he'd heard the stories of their disappearance years ago.

  The best part of this plan was that perhaps neither Hilly nor Maria were the killer after all. I liked that idea.

  "There it is!" Lauren took off running up the trail.

  The rest of the girls and Hilly followed. Riley and I picked up the pace, and soon we were all at the boathouse.

  I clapped my hands to get their attention. "Okay, let's remember the rules and find our personal floatation devices."

  The term life vests had been given up by most Scouting groups because technically, the vest wasn't guaranteed to save your life. And that unfortunate nomenclature meant that a lawsuit was possible. So, we called them PFDs for personal floatation device.

  The girls were in their vests before I finished the sentence. Hilly and I scrambled into adult-sized vests. Riley seemed okay to watch from the shore.

  "Alright, two to a canoe," I announced. "And I'm picking who's going in with whom."

  There was a general groan about this, but I stood firm. In my experience, your best friend isn't your ideal canoe partner. I had volunteered to help with canoeing at camp from time to time, and I'd seen friendships break over this, when the one in front wants to do one thing but the other in the back of the canoe has other ideas. More than a dozen times, I've watched canoes go in circles until I split the rowers up and put them in different canoes.

  And it wasn't any different for my own troop. For example, none of the Kaitlyns were allowed to share a canoe. The four Kaitlyns in my troop got along in every way—even finishing sentences for each other. But they did not work well together in a canoe and were reduced to bickering every time.

  And I'd once seen Ava and Inez try to knock each other into the water with their paddles over such disagreements. Betty and Lauren were the exception, since they got along in all things…with the ghost story from the other night being the only time they'd come close to disagreeing. In a canoe they worked very well together.

  So, Inez was paired with a Kaitlyn, as was Ava. Hilly and I were partnered up. I'd never canoed with the woman before, but since I knew what to expect, there was little concern we'd get into a fight. After all, we were adults and professionals. There would be no reason to argue.

  I couldn't have been more wrong.

  Riley, Hilly, and I pushed the other three canoes into the water before it was our turn to get into one.

  "I'll take the front," Hilly said.

  "Or"—I tried my best diplomacy so as to set a good example—"since I have more experience, I could take it." After all, the person in the front had to be more intuitive than the person in the back, who was able to see what the person in front was up to.

  Hilly thought about this. "But then who'd have my back if someone attacked us?"

  "Who would have my back?" I responded.

  "Yes," Hilly reasoned. "But if someone kills you, then I'll avenge you."

  "Who's going to kill me on the lake?" I paused, realizing we were bickering before we even launched. "Okay. You get in the front."

  "Unless"—Hilly seemed to change her mind—"you wanted to kill me. Then I should sit in the back."

  I threw my arms in the air. "Why would I want to kill you?"

  She shrugged. "You never know about people."

  "You don't trust me?" I felt a sting of regret, considering that I wasn't sure I trusted Hilly completely.

  The assassin looked surprised. "Of course I do!"

  Argh! "Then what are we arguing over?"

  "We're not arguing!" She seemed surprised. "You know, I walked the earthworm with an oar once."

  That caught my attention enough to distract me. "Did you bludgeon the guy?"

  "I can't tell you that!" The assassin rolled her eyes.

  "Ladies," Riley said, "you need to be seated. You're fighting before you're even on the water."

  I took the back seat to avoid further conflict as Riley pushed us into the water. "If you can't tell me about the job," I continued once we had paddled to the middle of the lake, "then why did you bring it up?"

  She didn't turn around. "You asked."

  "No, I didn't." I shook my head and thought about bludgeoning her with an oar right now. "Look, let's just enjoy the lake and keep an eye on the girls. Okay?"

  "Alright," Hilly said. "By the way, these things sure are tippy." And then, inexplicably, she got to her feet and turned around to face me.

  "Sit down!" I hissed.
"I don't let the girls do that!" If Betty saw Hilly standing in the canoe, she'd be the first to try it. Then I'd have a lake full of girls.

  "What?" She straddled the middle rivets and began rocking her weight from side to side. "You're not scared, are you?"

  I held on to the edges. "No, I'm not scared."

  "Besides"—the assassin sniffed—"I have catlike reflexes."

  She leaned hard to the right, and that's when the whole boat turned on its side, dumping us into the lake. The water was cold, and it was a shock. I swam up to the edge of the canoe and grabbed on, hearing Hilly do the same thing on the other side.

  "You're supposed to have cat-like balance!" I shouted as I hung on to my side of the canoe.

  "I do!" Hilly shouted from the other side.

  We both tried to heave ourselves over the side into the canoe, but due to the fact that we have breasts and there was a buckle there, it snagged every time we tried to get up and over the lip of the canoe. I'd managed to do this in canoe training, but my anger was clouding my judgement and made getting over the side difficult.

  The girls were screaming shouts of encouragement, except for Betty, who wanted to know why she couldn't get into the water.

  "Maybe we should just swim the canoe back to shore," I shouted.

  "Mrs. Wrath! Look!" Inez screamed.

  I followed her pointing finger to see Old Eisenhower slide off his log and into the water. The snout broke the surface. He was headed our way. A massive, cranky, 200-pound snapping turtle was coming right toward us.

  We ramped up our efforts to get back into the canoe. Then the snapping turtle snout went under water completely. Panic rose in my throat as I prayed not to lose a limb to a giant turtle. Then something under the canoe brushed my leg.

  I screamed like a B-movie teenager being chased by a demented but surprisingly fast ax murderer. My years of experience at keeping my cool under stressful situations that included someone trying to kill you was gone, replaced with the horror that I might be attacked by a giant lake turtle.

  "Merry!" Hilly shouted. "My leg brushed yours! It's okay!"

  The girls and Riley burst into giggling fits as Hilly and I saw the turtle as the correct motivation and heaved ourselves over the sides and into the bottom of the canoe. We lay there, side by side, panting, as something bumped into the bottom of the canoe.

  "You guys okay?" Riley called out.

  "Yes," I shouted. But Hilly and I were a little shaken and didn't sit up.

  "I really need to borrow that turtle," Hilly said enthusiastically.

  "Well, he's not going back with us," I decided.

  "Maybe Old Eisenhower killed Chad!" I heard Ava say.

  As he dramatically circled the canoe a couple of times before heading back to his log, I added scary, ginormous turtle to the things I'm scared of—a list that included psychotic Yakuza hit men, unstable Colombian drug lords, and puppets.

  Old Eisenhower was now at the top of that list. I wondered what he'd think of that.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  By the time we got back to camp, we were only damp. The girls were happily bouncing around. I knew they'd be exhausted by bedtime. Which meant we needed to stay one more night. After Hilly and I changed into dry clothes, we decided to check on our hosts.

  "Good afternoon!" Laura waved at us with a smile as we appeared at the lodge. "You guys missed lunch!" She pointed to a plate full of potatoes.

  "Sorry," I apologized. "We did a bit of canoeing."

  Her face changed to concern. "You didn't have any trouble with Old Eisenhower, did you?"

  I thought about Hilly's leg brushing mine. "Nope. He didn't bother us at all."

  This was mostly true, aside from the possible attempt on my life…that didn't happen—I'd like to think, due to my cat-like reflexes.

  Betty walked out of the lodge and straight over to little Betty. "Want to get started on those trebuchets?"

  "Of course." Betty pulled a notebook from her pocket. "I've done some sketches."

  The two of them looked like a pair of generals, reviewing a battle plan.

  Riley said, "Maybe that's not the best idea?"

  I waved him off. "It'll give them something to do. And knowing our Betty, she might get some interesting intel."

  I turned to the group. "Ladies"—I clapped my hands together—"why don't we think about something interesting for dinner?"

  The five remaining elderly ladies brightened at that. "You have more s'mores?"

  "Yes. But we can save them for dessert. We do have some summer sausage and cheese we'd been saving."

  Ada gave one of her unholy screams, in what I can only assume was approval.

  "It's like Elvis showed up in his blue suede shoes and sang a song just for me!" Esme squealed.

  "Who?" Inez asked.

  "It's better than that!" Laura insisted. "It's like the circus came to town and let us ride the elephants!"

  Lauren shook her head. "Circuses are bad now. They're mean to elephants. Still, it would be cool to ride one."

  "You guys have this all wrong," one of the Sharons said. "It's like Ricky Nelson and…"

  The other Sharon finished, "James Dean asked us to run away with them!"

  One of the Kaitlyns turned to the other. "I have no idea who they're talking about." The other Kaitlyn shrugged.

  I was caught up in their enthusiasm as well. "It's like having cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!"

  There was a lull of silence as everyone stared at me.

  Finally Ada said, "Too much sugar is bad for you."

  Ava added, "It's not cake, Mrs. Wrath. It's just sausage and cheese."

  Lauren turned to the others. "It's not her fault. She's old and gets confused.

  The women and little girls all nodded in agreement. I looked to the two Bettys, who'd been watching silently.

  "It's all right, Mrs. Wrath," Betty the younger said. "My grandpa gets cake and sausage confused all the time."

  Betty Sr.'s eyebrows went up. "He does?"

  "No." The little girl shook her head. "I just wanted to say something to make her feel less stupid."

  "That's nice of you," Betty Sr. said. "But they all missed the point."

  "What do you mean?" Betty Jr. asked.

  "We've been eating nothing but potatoes for so long"—the elderly woman looked thoughtful—"that it's really more like the Soviets tearing down the Berlin Wall and letting all those countries have their autonomy back."

  Betty Jr. nodded. "And even better if they use flamethrowers when they sign the paperwork."

  I made a mental note to talk to Betty Sr. about Russian history and changed the subject.

  "How about each girl pair up with her counterpart," I suggested.

  They did. Laura and Lauren decided to go into the kitchen in the lodge to get plates and a knife. Inez and Esme went to collect firewood for the s'mores later. Ava and Ada offered to go back to our campsite for the cheese and sausage, and the Sharons and Kaitlyns were in charge of entertainment for dinner.

  "What are we going to do?" Hilly asked.

  I had an idea, and I wanted her out of the way. "How about you go with the Bettys and help with the trebuchet?"

  She agreed immediately and joined the girl and her senior counterpart. "Most important"—I heard Hilly say—"is what we're going to launch with the trebuchet. We need to talk about projectiles."

  "What are we going to do?" Riley interrupted my concern that I really needed to confiscate that C-4.

  "You are going to float from group to group, interviewing the women. I'm going into the woods to find Maria."

  The idea of looking for Maria seemed like a good distraction from being cake-shamed by a group of seventy-something-old women and a group of ten-year-old girls. Besides, it was midafternoon, so I'd be able to see her and find her in the woods. The problem was where to start. I'd have to bisect the woods around the camp, making a complete circuit in hopes of finding her. She had to be staying somewhere. And I had an i
dea she might be in one of the other campsites.

  We'd marched past them on the way to and from the lake, but we didn't investigate the sites farther out. A tent in the woods would provide perfect shelter. I figured Maria was staying here, hoping for some time alone with me. And after last night's fiasco, I wanted to stop this charade and find her.

  Betty, Betty, and Hilly were sitting on the ground, making plans and assessing what they had in the way of resources. I'd have to move fast so Hilly didn't see me slip away. I did not need her following me. Especially since I was still a bit mad at her attempt to feed me to a hungry turtle.

  * * *

  After twenty minutes of searching Deer End and the pool building, I finally found her in the first platform tent in Goldfinch Grave. Maria didn't make any attempt to flee as I pulled back the canvas flap and opened the door.

  "Why are you hiding from us?" I asked in as calm a voice as I could manage.

  Maria bit her lip. "Honestly, Merry, I just thought it would be you and the girls. I guess I wasn't so surprised to see Riley, after all the history you have together."

  "Whoa." I held up my hands. "There's nothing going on. We're just friends. Sometimes he helps with the troop, and sometimes I solve all of his cases. That's it."

  "I didn't mean to imply…" She shook her head, her perfect black curls bouncing healthily. Unlike my unruly dirty blonde curls that rarely bounced and, when they did, did so more anemically.

  I relaxed a little and sat down on her cot next to her. "It's okay. You don't need to worry about Riley. And I want you to know that I didn't invite Hilly. She just sort of crashed the trip. She does that. A lot, actually."

  "It's not her," Maria said with enough hesitation to make me suspicious. "It's the guy."

  "Do you know him?" I left out the part where he was "cooling" his heels in a hot chest freezer.

  "No," she said in a way that wasn't wholly convincing.

  "Then why is he a problem?" I pushed.

  She fidgeted with her sleeping bag zipper. "I just didn't expect him, that's all. He didn't seem like the kind of guy you'd bring with you on a camping trip."

  My instincts told me that she was leaving something out. They also told me not to press her on it. And they confirmed that I was totally okay with wishing for cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.