Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 02 - Trouble at Sunny Lake

by Minnie Crockwell

  “Can you push it back into the water? Raise the outboard motor first.”

  “What?” Was he nuts? Had he missed the part about the body? “Don’t you think you should come out here or send someone out here? I mean, not to mention there’s a dead body out here, I wouldn’t want to ruin your boat. I suppose I could get the police to help me.”

  A long silent pause made me antsy.

  “Sean?”

  “I’ll bring a boat out there,” he said with obvious reluctance. “Someone brought the bass boat back.”

  “Thanks, Sean.” My tone was a bit sarcastic in response to his put upon sigh.

  “No problem.” Apparently, my sarcasm had gone to waste. I hung up the phone and sank down on one of the seats, trying hard not to look at the body.

  “Not again, Ben,” I said with a shake of my head. “This can’t be happening again.”

  I imagine this must have been an accident, Minerva. Perhaps he fell over the cliff.

  I looked up at the ponderosa pines at the top of the cliff.

  “Maybe,” I said. “I hope so. I don’t think I can go through this again.”

  I understand, dear.

  “What was up with Sean? Could he have been any more disinterested?”

  I cannot say, Minerva. I too found his response less than adequate, if only as a representative of the company that rented you the boat.

  The sound of sirens caught my ear. How would they come? By land? By water?

  As it happened, they came both ways. I looked up to see several uniformed officers lining the top of the cliff. To my right, I saw a canopied dark green skiff approaching with flashing blue and red lights. Painted white lettering on the side indicated this was the Spokane County Sheriff’s Office Marine Enforcement Unit. Two men manned the boat that pulled up alongside me, finessing their landing as I had not.

  “Miss Crockwell?” the shorter of the two men called out. Sporting a black baseball cap, olive green cargo pants, and a black polo shirt with a white embroidered star on the chest, he jumped off the front of the boat. His companion, a gray-haired man driving the boat, followed.

  “Yes,” I said in a shaky voice.

  “I’m Deputy Wilson, and this is Deputy Kline. We’re with the Spokane County Sheriff’s Department,” the younger of the two men said. Dark hair peeped out beneath his cap.

  They had already seen the body.

  “Stay there. Don’t leave,” Deputy Wilson barked. They scrambled toward the body, and I turned away, coward that I was. I didn’t want to see anything that I wouldn’t be able to forget.

  A wise decision, Minerva. It is not a pleasant sight.

  “Is it really that bad?” I whispered to Ben.

  It is nothing I have not seen before, however, I would not like to burden you with such a memory. I believe the poor man must have been here for some time, perhaps a day or two.

  I clutched my stomach, hoping I wouldn’t heave my breakfast.

  “Okay, don’t tell me anything else.”

  No.

  I peered over my shoulder to see Wilson return to the boat. Within moments, he clambered back off the boat with what looked like a sling stretcher and a blanket. I saw a camera strapped across his chest as well. The police on the cliff overhead watched.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Ben.

  Deputy Wilson is taking photographs. He and Deputy Kline seem to be speaking to the authorities on the cliff above through their shoulder devices. I believe you called them radios.

  A smaller boat approached and slowed. The driver, who wore a dark green baseball cap pulled low on his face and sunglasses which shaded his eyes, idled his motor to watch the scene for a few moments. From the red hair visible beneath the cap, I recognized Sean…barely. Eventually, he maneuvered his boat to the left side of mine, away from the activity.

  “You sure did jam that boat up onto these rocks,” he said. That he didn’t address the activity onshore struck me as odd.

  Deputy Wilson looked over his shoulder toward Sean’s boat, and seemed to stare so hard that I thought he was going to come over and see what Sean was up to, but he turned back to the activity at hand, thankfully blocking the victim’s body.

  “I guess I could have waited to call you. They told me to stay here.” I shrugged.

  “Who told you to stay here?” he muttered.

  “The deputies.”

  “Well, I don’t know why you have to stay. You found the guy and reported it. That’s that.” Sean adjusted his cap and pulled it lower. “I can’t wait here to pull you out. I’ve got to get back to the office.”

  “Well, maybe the deputies can give me a shove off the rocks.” I thought his response was particularly inappropriate, but there wasn’t much I could say. The boat was his concern. The dead man was obviously not.

  “Yeah, why don’t you ask them? I’m gonna head back now.”

  He backed his boat out and pulled away, slipping silently through the water with little to no wake, as if he’d rather not be seen.

  “Well, I guess he’s gone,” I said to Ben.

  Yes, he seemed distinctly uncomfortable as if he wished himself well away from the situation. One can hardly blame him, I suppose, except that he has abandoned a lady in need, something no gentleman should ever do.

  Ben and his old-fashioned values!

  “I was thinking more along the lines of Sean abandoning his pontoon boat, not so much me. He didn’t strike me as particularly gallant even when I rented the boat.”

  No, alas. He did seem somewhat cavalier in his treatment of you even then. I did not like to say anything then in case you did not notice.

  “I noticed,” I murmured. “Not everyone is like you, Ben. I’m not sure they make them like you anymore actually.”

  Ben chuckled. Old-fashioned, to use your term?

  I smiled, and looked over my shoulder. The two deputies were approaching their boat carrying the stretcher. An olive green blanket covered the body, and I turned away. I listened to the sounds as they must have settled the poor dead man onto the deck of their skiff.

  “Miss Crockwell?” one of them called.

  I turned reluctantly.

  “We’re going to need to get a statement from you,” Deputy Wilson said. “Can you follow us to the public boat launch at the end of the lake?”

  I looked up toward the police at the top of the cliff. Several officers remained in place.

  “Oh, sure,” I said. I gave them a sheepish shrug. “The thing is…I’m stuck. I accidentally rammed the boat onto shore when I saw the body, and now I can’t get it back into the water.”

  “No problem,” he said. He jumped off of his boat. “We’ll give you a shove. Make sure your motor is out of the water first. Sam!” He called to Deputy Kline.

  I checked to make sure the motor was raised, and with effort, the two men pushed the large pontoon boat back into the water. They climbed into their own boat.

  “Now, lower your motor, and start it,” Wilson called out. “Back out slowly because of the rocks.”

  I inserted the key and pushed the throttle down as slowly as possible. The boat barely moved, but eventually I adjusted it correctly and began to back away from the shore. The two deputies watched me, and my cheeks burned in response.

  “Well, this is embarrassing,” I muttered.

  You are doing well, Minerva. Remember? You are a natural at this.

  “I naturally ran aground, you mean.”

  Just so, Ben said with a chuckle.

  I followed the deputies back toward the RV park, but they bypassed it in favor of a nearby public boat launch where a sheriff’s truck, several other police cruisers and an ambulance awaited them. Their truck sported a trailer from which I assumed they had launched their boat.

  “How am I supposed to land this thing, Ben? There’s no dock here.”

  I am not certain, my dear. I think the deputies must have a plan.

  And they did.

  “Shut off your engine, an
d lift your motor. Then throw me one of your lines,” Wilson called out. “We’ll pull you in.”

  I did as he ordered, and he and Deputy Kline pulled the boat in. I clambered off the boat with their assistance and accompanied them toward their truck. The other deputies, similarly dressed, congregated near the ambulance as paramedics loaded the stretcher. Deputy Kline joined them.

  Onlookers had begun to congregate near the boat launch area, and the other deputies galvanized to move them back. Behind me, I knew several boats had followed us to shore to see what the commotion was all about.

  I felt conspicuous and on the verge of arrest myself. And not just for bad pontoon boat driving.

  You had no hand in the unfortunate fellow’s demise, Minerva. Chin up!

  I lifted my chin as Ben suggested.

  Deputy Wilson invited me to sit inside their truck while I wrote out a statement. Reluctantly, I climbed into the back seat and took the clipboard and pen he offered me.

  There’s no way they can push me in and lock the doors, right, Ben? I spoke silently.

  I cannot say, Minerva. I do not know what the authorities can and cannot do. If that does occur, you may be assured, I will do something!

  Like what? I asked. I stared at the clipboard.

  I heard what sounded like an impatient sigh.

  I do not know. Something!

  I could hear the frustration in his voice. I had unfairly reminded him that there was little he could do to help me in a physical sense.

  I’m sorry, Ben. I shouldn’t tease you like that. Let me fill this thing out, and then they’ll probably let me go.

  Wilson waited near the open truck door while I filled out the statement. Of course, he couldn’t just slam the door on me and then jump back screeching “You’re under arrest!” He’d probably have to haul me out, search me, advise me of my rights, handcuff me and only then could he possibly toss me back in and lock the door.

  With a shaky hand, I wrote the details of seeing the body. I really didn’t have much to say about it. My statement was brief and concise.

  At 1 p.m. I was boating on Sunny Lake when I saw a dark blue shape at the bottom of a cliff. I thought it was a man’s body, and I called 911.

  I paused. That was it, right? What else could I say? They didn’t need to hear about my less than amazing boating skills.

  “Ummm, Deputy Wilson? I think this is about it. I’m sorry I couldn’t add more.”

  He took the clipboard and scanned it. One thick dark eyebrow shot up.

  “That’s it?”

  I shrugged helplessly. “Yes?”

  “Did you get out of the boat to look at the body?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “How could you tell it was a man?”

  Hmmm… I couldn’t really. I had relied on Ben for that.

  “I wasn’t sure, but I thought the body was larger than a woman’s might be.”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “Okay, well, sign here, and put your name, address and cell phone here. Are you staying around here somewhere?”

  “Yes, I’m camped at the Sunny Lake RV Park over there.” I pointed to the nearby park, which reminded me I’d have to boat back to it.

  “In an RV?”

  I nodded.

  “Nice,” he said with a sudden smile. “I’d love to buy an RV. I just don’t have the time to take off from work. Who do you travel with? Your husband?”

  I shook my head. “No one,” I said nonchalantly.

  That is not exactly true, Ben offered.

  Do you want me to tell him about you, Ben? I fixed Wilson with a pleasant smile while I chatted with Ben.

  No, of course not. That would certainly land you in an asylum.

  We passed a psychiatric hospital on the way down here. I wouldn’t have far to go.

  Ben chuckled.

  “All right then,” Wilson said. “I think you’re free to go, Miss Crockwell. We may need to contact you again in the next few days.”

  “I’ll be here,” I said, although I was ready to move on. Somehow, Sunny Lake had lost its sunshine…in more ways than one. Clouds moved in to block the sun again.

  I climbed down from the truck and headed for the pontoon boat. To my left, I saw the ambulance pulling away. Kline backed the sheriff’s truck and trailer toward the water hook up the boat.

  I studied at my own boat wondering how I was going to push it back into the water. I hated to ask anyone to help. I looked toward the RV park. There was no point in calling them. Sean certainly had no intention of helping me out. It was obviously not his concern. I was pretty sure I had exceeded my one-hour rental time, and I was also pretty sure I wasn’t going to pay for more than the hour. Take that, Sean!

  Deputy Wilson spotted me staring at my boat.

  “Hop in. We’ll give you a shove,” he said.

  I smiled gratefully and did as he ordered. Wilson and two other deputies pushed the pontoon boat back into the water. Once clear of the launch area, I lowered the motor and started the engine. I putt-putted the short few minutes back to the dock at the RV park and managed to dock the pontoon boat without mishap, no doubt due to the fact that I never really gained speed on my journey from the public boat launch. Feeling once again quite competent at the boating thing, I grabbed one of the mooring lines and hopped off the boat to tie it up. Boat secured to the dock, I retrieved my life jacket from the boat.

  “Are you ready, Ben?”

  Always, he said. What an eventful day. I am at a loss for words.

  “You’re not the only one. I wonder who the poor guy was. Did you notice if he had any identification on him?”

  Identification?

  “Yes, like a wallet with his driver’s license or anything like that.”

  I could not say. I did not know to look out for that. In my day, we carried no such thing as this license.

  “Well, we do now, and it has a picture on it and hopefully a current home address.”

  I moved up the dock toward the office building.

  “I wonder who he was,” I repeated.

  Minerva, please do not tell me you intend to involve yourself further in this matter.

  “No, of course not!” I said. “No one is going to talk to me about it. I’ll have to read about it in the newspaper like everyone else. It’s not like the police will come and tell me who he was and how he died just because I found him. Privacy issues and stuff, not to mention there will obviously be an investigation.”

  Minerva….

  I smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, Ben. I won’t get involved.”

  Within minutes, I was watching Deputies Wilson and Kline asking Sean questions.

  Chapter Three

  Mary, the older woman who had checked me in, posed rigidly behind the counter while the two deputies interviewed Sean at one of the café tables. Her short gray hair seemed to stand on end as she watched them.

  “What on earth is going on?” Mary leaned her tall thin body toward me and whispered. “Sean said you found a body over by the cliffs? And now the police are here, asking him questions? Do they know who it is? Did he fall off the cliffs? What did you say to the police? It wasn’t Sean!”

  I took a step back. Mary, whom I’d earlier found to be a pleasant sweet lady in her early 60s, had changed within hours to resemble some sort of thin-lipped hissing witch. I exaggerated of course, but it was just one of those days where exaggeration didn’t go far enough to describe things.

  I didn’t know which question to answer first. I saw both deputies look up at me and nod. They had certainly gotten here fast. It wouldn’t have taken them long to drive the quarter mile around by the road. I wondered what was up.

  I approached the counter again to speak to Mary in a low voice.

  “I didn’t say anything about Sean. I don’t know who the dead man was. Thankfully, I never got a good look at him.”

  “Well, then why are they here? Sean said you called and that you insisted he come down there to hel
p you with the pontoon boat. Maybe they saw him there and thought he was involved somehow.”

  “Well, insist is a strong word. I had run aground. I panicked when I saw the body, and the boat got away from me. I had no way of pushing it back into the water and getting aboard.”

  “Well, now they think Sean must know something, but I’m sure he doesn’t. He was working here all day yesterday, and back at the camper with me last night.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. Talk about too much information. What was this all about?

  The lady doth protest too much, methinks? Ben said. What goes here?

  “So, you know Sean well?”

  This smacks of involvement, Minerva. I feel certain I heard you say you did not intend to involve yourself in the matter.

  Just a question or two, Ben, to take the edge off my curiosity.

  “He’s my grandson.”

  “Oh!” I said. I hadn’t realized they were related. Not that it mattered much, but it certainly explained her concerns.

  “Maybe the body has been there longer than a day or two,” I mused. I should have mused silently.

  “Well, whenever this fellow fell off the cliff or whatever happened to him, Sean was with me. He’s been either here at work or at the trailer.”

  I quirked the other eyebrow at her blanket statement and looked over my shoulder to see the deputies and Sean rise from the table. Sean grabbed his hat and glasses almost angrily and strode out the side door which led toward the bathrooms.

  Deputies Wilson and Kline watched him walk away and then approached the counter. Their focus was on Mary, and she threw me a pale blue narrow-eyed glance. I shrugged and shook my head, hoping to signal that I hadn’t mentioned her either.

  “Mrs. Sanders, your grandson Sean states that he was with you either here in the office or at your trailer all night last night. Can you confirm that?” Kline did the questioning while Wilson jotted some notes on a pad of paper.

  Mary bobbed her head. “Yes, he was. Hasn’t been out of my sight. Why are you asking?”

  I stood to the side. I still had to pay for the rental of the pontoon boat, so I did have some legitimate business there other than eavesdropping. The deputies didn’t seem to care that I was there.

  “We’re just investigating a death on the lake. I assume you have heard about it.”