Mosquito Bite Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  "I didn't tell you about my conversation with Laura," I said quietly. Then I filled him in.

  "They're orphans?" His eyebrows went up.

  I gave a short nod. "It would explain why they were here so long. Why no one came looking for them."

  "It shouldn't be hard to find some family," he mused. "Obviously it won't be parents, but siblings or nephews, that kind of thing."

  "It might explain why Chad thought something here was familiar."

  The older women were still sitting around the campfire, giving me nervous looks from time to time.

  "Hey guys!" Hilly appeared, pulling a wagon. "Look what I made!"

  I jumped up and walked over. "You made this?"

  She nodded. "I just used some wood I found in the forest, some vines, and the wheels are made of wood too."

  "You did a great job!" It was unbelievably good. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. It seems that Hilly was good at being a survivalist, Gilligan's Island style.

  The assassin beamed. "It's so we can carry Old Eisenhower back to the lake."

  Lauren nodded. "He needs water."

  But the child made no move to get up, instead petting his sleeping head.

  "Mrs. Wrath"—Betty Sr. stood up and walked to me—"do you have a moment?"

  Riley and I exchanged looks.

  "Of course." I could've insisted they call me Merry, but something told me not to waste the advantage I had over them considering me a leader.

  We walked to the edge of the woods. From our vantage point I noticed Riley went over and sat with Ada.

  "What's up?"

  She gave me a frank look. "I understand Laura caved under interrogation."

  I hadn't really interrogated her, but I let that go. "About you being orphans?"

  The woman seemed irritated by my comment. "Yes. That. She shouldn't have said anything. I really should've toughened the others up. If we'd trained to withstand torture, then she wouldn't have spilled the goods."

  I looked her over. The woman was resolute in every manner. She never faltered or admitted weakness. If she'd stayed in civilization, she could've been formidable in anything, from espionage to running the local DMV or post office.

  "Is that why you stayed in the woods all this time?"

  The woman snorted. "No. It's safer here. People are idiots. This way we keep to ourselves. We get to do whatever we want."

  I replied, "You have limited resources outside of an abundance of potatoes. What do you consider to be anything you want?"

  She rubbed her chin. "Well, we could never defend something like this in the outside world."

  I sighed. "Betty, there are no communists out there looking to take over. The USSR dissolved, and a lot of the countries went independent." Okay, sure, there were Russian spies, but they really wouldn't care about an abandoned Scout camp unless it was sitting on a plutonium mine.

  The older woman continued, "Betty Jr. has been telling me about the Catalans and Basque region."

  I looked to make sure the little girl wasn't near us. "Yeah, well, Betty doesn't know everything about that. Things aren't as extreme as she lets on."

  "So who're our enemies now?" Betty Sr. asked.

  I chose my words carefully. It would be tough for her to grasp that we had different enemies now. "Arab groups like the Taliban. White supremacists are domestic terrorists."

  "The Ruskies aren't a problem anymore?"

  Ruskies. How adorable. I hadn't heard that term unless it was in a history book. "Well, sure they are. The Russians and Chinese have spies here and try to hack into businesses and disrupt politics. But the Cold War is over. Neither country is going to invade. And then there's North Korea—but their resources are so bleak they aren't a real threat."

  "I see." The woman considered this. "What about the hippies?"

  "They haven't been a problem since the 1960s." I studied the woman. "Betty, are you worried about coming back with us?"

  She put on a gruff demeanor for my benefit. "No. Of course not. Nothing frightens me. I just wanted to know what's out there. Nothing is bringing us back. We are all staying here."

  I was worried about that. "What if some of the other women want to go back with us?"

  "They won't."

  "They might," I cautioned. "And really, you can't keep them here."

  Betty started to close off. "What would we do out in the real world? We don't know anyone but you. Our town is gone. The people we knew are most likely dead. We don't have anywhere to go. We don't have money."

  I repeated my earlier offer. "You can all stay at my house for free."

  The woman seemed doubtful. "Won't your husband think that's weird?"

  "How did you know I had a husband?" I didn't remember saying that.

  She shrugged. "The girls told us."

  Rex wouldn't mind, since it was my house. He was such a sweetheart he'd probably run out and get them if we came back without the women. "No, he won't mind a bit. I own a second house across the street. It has two bedrooms, so it would be a squeeze, but you are more than welcome to stay there for free while you decide what you want to do. I'll pay for food and some new clothes. You'll be safe there while you figure things out."

  She considered this. "Why would you do that for us?"

  "Because you're Girl Scouts, and we look after our own." Was I negotiating the women's return? Had Betty Sr. taken it upon herself to speak for the others? It seemed like she was softening on the idea.

  "What about jobs? What could we do?"

  Well, they wouldn't qualify for social security, so they would need to earn money. I was set financially for life due to a generous settlement with the agency, but did I have enough for all of us to live on for a long time?

  "You could get Medicaid—insurance with health benefits. Ava could probably set that up for you ten minutes after we get back. And you might be able to get part-time jobs with the Girl Scout Council."

  This brought her up short. "Doing what?"

  Oh great, Merry. Now you've promised them jobs. I racked my brain. "Work at camp in the summer? Then there's always volunteering with different organizations."

  Betty stared off into space. "Sounds like the outside world would be a lot more complicated than what we have here."

  "In the winter, you'd have a warm house to live in. You'd have more food than potatoes—in fact, I'll give you ladies a fully stocked meat freezer."

  I think I almost had her with that.

  "I don't know," Betty mumbled. "It sounds good, but what if you end up wanting us out?"

  I shook my head vigorously, even though I had a few pangs of doubt. "I won't. You'll have to trust me on that. And besides, Riley has offered to find your families for free. You could meet your blood relatives, which is an opportunity you couldn't have here."

  "Only if I can eventually work for the CIA," the woman said after a moment.

  Two Bettys, about fifty-eight years apart, with the same goals. The agency wouldn't know what hit them.

  "I could look into it," I lied. The agency would probably not be interested in hiring a bunch of women who had no idea what the US was up against after all this time.

  "When are you going back?" she asked.

  "Tomorrow, I think." Truth be told, I wasn't sure. Part of me said we needed to head back, but the other part said I should stay and talk these women into going. I was very close. If Betty Sr. signed on, the rest probably would. I didn't want to leave any of them behind.

  Betty Sr. pointed at the lodge. "Will you be taking that dead man with you?"

  "I don't know." I was pretty sure we couldn't drag the freezer along barely cleared trails for two days. We'd have to send someone back for him.

  "Okay" was all she said before turning and walking back to the group, who, I noticed, were all trying to lift Old Eisenhower onto the wagon.

  The turtle did not seem pleased, and I was fairly certain that soon he'd be snapping.

  Just as he extended his neck, the ladies a
nd girls succeeded in settling him into the wagon. As Hilly pulled him, he looked surprised and satisfied. Great. Now he was going to want to be hauled around all the time.

  For a moment I thought about asking Hilly for the bug spray. I was sure it needed to be reapplied and feared we'd gone too long. However, we still hadn't had any bites, unlike Riley, who was still being feasted on. Okay, let's see how long this stuff holds out. Obviously it held out longer than Riley's.

  I brought out the last of the s'mores makings, and soon we had a roaring fire going.

  "Ladies and gentleman!" One of the Kaitlyns stood up. "For tonight's entertainment, we give you the Flaming Sharons!"

  Before any of us could respond to the fact that flaming meant something different now, the Sharons stepped forward and bowed as the Kaitlyns pounded two stakes into the ground, about ten feet apart, and tied a huge rope between the two.

  The Sharons tested the rope and tightened it on either side. Then they set the rope on fire.

  "Are those toads?" Hilly asked while she patted Old Eisenhower's head while he sat in his cart.

  Sure enough, the Sharons each had three live toads, which they began to juggle.

  "They've been practicing this act for about thirty years," Betty Sr. said. "I kind of hoped they'd moved on to snakes or something."

  "Toads do not like to be juggled," Lauren, junior zookeeper, announced.

  "Oh, they don't mind," Ada said. "The girls have been working with these particular toads for a couple of years now."

  "Toads live about ten years in the wild," Lauren said. "That means they've been through three rounds of toads."

  I couldn't take my eyes off the juggled amphibians, who seemed okay with it as they flew through the air. Then, the Sharons each straddled one end of the burning rope and began tossing the toads to each other.

  "When they started," Esme said, "we called it the flaming toad trick. But they're better now."

  Old Eisenhower seemed to realize what was happening and began to view the act with interest. No doubt he thought he'd get a toad snack if one of them were dropped. Did snapping turtles eat toads?

  "Yes." Lauren looked me in the eye and then turned back to the entertainment.

  "How did she know what I was thinking?" I asked Hilly.

  "You were probably thinking the same thing I was, that I could translate this act into burping the titmouse."

  "Uh," I said, "no, I wasn't thinking of using flying toads to off—"

  "Shhh!" Hilly interrupted. "Is that the only flaming thing, or are they going to set themselves on fire too?"

  "What?" I cried out. "Why would you—"

  Laura cut me off. "They tried that once. It didn't go well."

  The two Kaitlyns brought out another piece of rope, and the Sharons kept juggling but moved over to the girls. The rope had leather ends. The little girls lit the middle of the rope on fire and began to twirl it as a jump rope. The Sharons jumped inside the rotation, still juggling the toads.

  "Isn't that dangerous to the girls?" Riley asked.

  "Leather doesn't really burn," I said, unable to take my eyes off the spectacle. I didn't know the Kaitlyns could twirl a jump rope.

  I looked over at Betty, who studied the whole thing. Uh-oh. I knew that look. And with Betty's penchant for magic and her ability to poof from here to there, I…

  Poof!

  Betty appeared in the middle of the two Sharons, who didn't seem all that startled as they tossed toads over her diminutive frame.

  "That looks like fun!" Hilly cried.

  "That looks like something that wasn't on my permission forms," I mumbled.

  The Sharons threw their toads high in the air, stepped out of the rope's arc, and caught the frogs. The Kaitlyns dropped the rope into the dirt, and the four of them took a well-deserved bow.

  Hilly leaped off the log and applauded vigorously. Riley and I got to our feet and did the same with a smidge less enthusiasm.

  "Thank you to Betty Jr.!" One of the Sharons motioned to the girl, who disappeared in a poof and reappeared next to me.

  "I didn't know you were going to be part of the act," I said to her.

  She shrugged. "Neither did I until I just did."

  I looked from the girl to the women and back. "But the Sharons weren't surprised when you poofed into the middle of their act."

  "Some adults are just cooler than others, I guess," Betty said.

  I wasn't quite sure how to take this. But then again, I often found myself in this position when it came to Betty. So, I did what I always did…said nothing. It seemed like the safest bet.

  "For our next act," one of the Sharons said, "we need a volunteer."

  Hilly didn't wait. She jumped to her feet and ran over to the women. They didn't seem surprised at all.

  "It's nice to have others here to volunteer," Ada said.

  "Remember that time they tried knife juggling?" Esme asked. "Thank goodness we still had a first aid kit back then!"

  In spite of the fact that the Sharons had decades to practice, I gave silent thanks that none of my girls had volunteered.

  "Now Hilly," one of the Sharons said, "please lie down across these two chairs." She pointed to two folding chairs set up about two feet apart.

  Hilly eagerly did so.

  "Now we will hypnotize the subject!" the other Sharon said.

  Hilly and I exchanged glances. The CIA never allowed their agents to be hypnotized, since we might inadvertently reveal classified intelligence.

  "Okay," Hilly said, "but if I say something I shouldn't, know that I might be sent back to kill you."

  The Sharons nodded as if they expected this all along. One of them stepped forward with a Girl Scout pin on a piece of string and waved it in front of the assassin's eyes, willing her to become sleepy. Hilly passed out, but her body didn't sag between the chairs, which I thought was interesting. Then the Sharons stepped forward, close to us, and began to speak softly under their breaths.

  I've never been susceptible to hypnosis. It had been tried on me multiple times in training, but never worked. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm immune to…

  According to Riley later, I passed clean out.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  "What happened?" I jerked awake to find myself on the same set of chairs Hilly had stretched across and Hilly sitting with the others, who were giving a standing ovation.

  "What's going on?" I clambered to a sitting position. "Why am I here? Did I pass out?"

  "You were hypnotized!" the Kaitlyns shrieked. "It was awesome!"

  "No"—I shook my head—"Hilly was hypnotized. Not me." But that didn't explain how I'd ended up where I was.

  "You thought you were a chicken, and then a ferret, and then a mime in a box!" Ava grinned.

  Inez grimaced. "You spit three crickets into the air!"

  It took everything I had not to feel the inside of my mouth. I stood up and walked back to my seat, scooting Hilly over. "It's impossible. I can't be hypnotized. Hilly was hypnotized."

  "I wasn't, actually." Hilly winked. "I was in on it. You were always the target."

  "You said you've always wanted to dance on stage in a banana costume," one of the Kaitlyns said.

  Oh crap. That was true—or at least, it was when I was thirteen. What other dark secrets did I reveal?

  Riley was laughing. Hard.

  Hilly offered, "You made hand puppets out of your socks."

  I looked down to see that I was, in fact, sockless.

  "And you ate one of the toads," Ava said.

  I could've sworn I heard someone laughing from the woods.

  "No," I said, a little unsure. "I didn't eat one of the toads."

  "No, you didn't," Betty said. "Like Lauren would've let you."

  I looked over to see Lauren with all six toads in her lap. They seemed okay, although they were eyeing Old Eisenhower cautiously.

  And then it hit me. "Are you saying I was the final act?"

  Every damn one of them nodded. H
ow did that happen?

  "It's a great trick," I said. "How did you hypnotize me?"

  One of the Sharons shook her head. "We can't tell you that. It's a secret."

  I made each and every one of them pinky swear never to tell anyone about this. If Kelly found out, I would never, ever live it down.

  It was getting dark, so we said our goodbyes and headed back to our campsite. The girls were exhausted and said they were going to bed—something that always happened the second night of camp when they were completely exhausted. Hilly, Riley, and I made a small campfire and sat next to it. Old Eisenhower was still in his wagon, on Hilly's other side.

  "Has anyone figured out who killed Chad?" Hilly asked suddenly.

  Riley and I turned to her.

  I replied, "Not yet."

  "Nobody has asked me what I think," Hilly said.

  Riley and I looked at each other.

  "Okay, I'll bite," I said. "What do you think?"

  She looked at me as if I was crazy. "I don't know! I just said nobody had asked me." She got to her feet. "I'm going to take Old Eisenhower back to the lake. See ya."

  Riley watched her go. "You know what? I can't figure out if she played us or is just plain crazy."

  "It's a fair assessment," I agreed. "I want to cross her off the list of suspects, but I keep coming back to the fact that she could've done it easily."

  Riley nodded. "It's either her, Laura, or Maria."

  "That's what I think too," I said. "I don't want it to be any of them."

  "What do you want to do?" He rubbed his eyes. "You said we were leaving in the morning."

  "I know. It's hard to leave knowing this isn't finished." I looked into the woods. "I need to find Maria and make her talk to me."

  "Good luck with that." Riley shook his head. "I don't think you're going to get anywhere."

  "Maybe if we help her, she'd help us?"

  "I've already told you I'm not going to jeopardize anything by trying to scrub her records at Langley."