“I don’t know.” Frankly, I thought they could safely add Mary to the list of suspects. I had no idea pale blue eyes could glitter like that.
She crossed her arms and chewed on her lower lip, throwing a glance in the direction of the cabins. When it seemed as if she wouldn’t offer any information, I shuffled my feet and spoke.
“Well, I guess I’ll head back to my RV, though it seems pretty close to the activity on the hill.”
“You’ll be all right,”” she said. Now that you mention they think Jason was murdered though, I expect they might be questioning Scott about that.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you knew them.”
“Who?” she said, her eyes still on the cabins.
“Jason and Scott Strait.”
“Didn’t I say? No, I probably didn’t mention. Sure, I know them. They went to school with Sean.”
“The plot thickens,” I blurted.
She swung her head to me and narrowed her eyes.
“There’s no plot here! Sean had nothing to do with the murder. Don’t go spreading rumors.”
I took another step back.
“No, no, certainly not. What do I know? Well, I think I’ll get scootin’.”
“I’m sure they’ll clear out of there pretty soon,” Mary said. “Hopefully, they’ll take Scott with them, but if not, the cabin is paid up for the month. I can’t really toss him out of there even though Jason was the one who rented it.”
I nodded. “Good night,” I said.
“Night,” she said as she climbed back into her camper.
I hurried back to my RV, staying under the safety of the overhead lights of the parking lot. From that angle I could see Josh’s SUV and the sheriff’s truck parked up by the cabins.
Ben? Are you here?
Yes, I am here. I would have advised you to stay away from Mistress Mary as well, but having earlier overstepped my bounds, I dared not. How did you find her?
I paused outside the door of my RV and stared up at the cabins. The lights in Scott’s cabin remained on.
“A whole lot different than the woman I met yesterday morning. Defensive. Avoidant. Lying. Protective of her grandson. Protesting too much, methinks.”
Just so. In your absence, much has occurred in yonder cabin. Sean has been disarmed by Deputy Kline. Recriminations and accusations as to who pushed young Jason from the cliff continue to be bandied about, particularly between young Sean and Scott. As I am unable to read their minds, I cannot discern who committed the murder, or whether any of them had a hand in it. Like you, I wonder if more than one person was not involved. The animosity toward the deceased is great and evenly distributed amongst all the players.
“I just love the way you speak, Peregrine!” I said with a smile. “So, no one confessed? Did anyone get hauled off to jail? Or will they be?”
It seems unlikely at this time. Deputies Wilson and Kline were about to depart when I saw you return.
Just then, a figure appeared out of the darkness in front of me.
“Josh! You scared me!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I saw you down here. What are you doing outside? I’m pretty sure I told you to go inside.”
I gritted my teeth. Men!
“I wanted to find out what was happening. I couldn’t just sit inside the RV without knowing. So, what happened?”
He shook his head.
“Well, by the time I got there, Jim Kline was already there. It seems Mary Sanders had called the police because Scott wasn’t supposed to be in the cabin. Anyway, Sean had showed up with a rifle, all heated up about I don’t really know what. The whole business about Scott staying in the cabin isn’t really a police matter because the cabin was paid for by his brother. But it’s getting convoluted with the murder. Scott doesn’t have an alibi, but then again Sean’s alibi is his grandmother, Mary, and she would lie to protect him.”
“Who fired the shot? Was anyone hurt?”
“Sean fired off a shot to get Scott to open the door. Jim Kline arrived just about then and said he thought Sean was going to shoot Scott right there on the spot.”
“So, no one has been arrested?”
Josh shook his head. “No, no harm done, not tonight anyway.” He sighed. “Why don’t you go inside now? There are still a lot of hot tempers running around tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and my heart jumped to my throat…but in a pleasant way.
“Good night,” I said in a bemused tone.
“Night.”
I threw one last look at the cabin before entering my RV and shutting the door to lock it. I sank onto the couch to collect my thoughts.
Minerva, my dear, at the risk of sounding like a petulant scorned suitor, please remember that the handsome and charming Deputy Wilson could also be considered a suspect in this murder. He too despised the victim.
“Are you a petulant scorned suitor, Ben?” I asked absentmindedly, still bemused by the kiss on the cheek.
I try not to be, Ben said softly. I hardly heard him as I rubbed the spot on my cheek.
My laptop computer dinged, signaling the arrival of an email, and I moved to the dining table to look at the screen. Although the newly arrived email was unimportant, I noticed that John had responded to the note I’d sent him the day before.
Good gravy, favorite ex!
Not again! How do you get yourself into these situations? I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come in your new RVing life!
I’m not quite sure what to say, except be careful and let the police do their job. If you think something is wrong, then it’s probably wrong. If you think someone is suspicious, trust your instincts and stay away from that person. Tell the authorities. Don’t go playing detective. John inserted a smiley face at this point.
Seriously though, stay away from these people. Enjoy your travels and relax. Wasn’t that what you wanted after 20 plus years of high-stress work for the feds?
Keep in touch.
Number One
I smiled. He was still a bit domineering, but I was much older than the twenty-year-old-girl who thought she had married an overbearing boy. John had grown into a fine man, had nurtured a fine career, and I sighed at lost opportunities.
Ben said nothing, and I hoped this was one of those times that he wasn’t reading my mind. I readied myself for bed, and slept fitfully, wondering who had pushed Jason Strait off the cliff, and what it would feel like if Ben could kiss me on the cheek.
Chapter Six
I arose early at around 6 the next morning. Too early for me. I puttered around the RV for a while before I dressed and stepped outside for a stroll.
My eyes went straight to Scott’s cabin, but I saw no movement. I didn’t think I wanted to press my luck and visit him up there to hear more about what had happened last night. I moved on down to the waterfront and strolled along the floating dock. Everything seemed so peaceful without a hint of the violence and strong emotions of the past few days.
Ducks floated on the surface of the lake, occasionally upending themselves as they poked their heads under the water to find some tasty morsel. A few seagulls flew overhead. Fish broke the surface of the still lake, snatching at some unobservant insect. I eyed the boats lined up on the dock but decided against another pontoon boat adventure. I couldn’t face finding another body.
You are quiet this morning, Minerva, Ben said.
I nodded.
“I am, aren’t I? Just thinking?”
About what, may I ask?
I grinned. “I thought you could read my mind, Ben. In fact, I know you can.”
Ben chuckled.
I try not to pry into your thoughts, but it is often unavoidable. There are times when it is not possible though.
“Did you read my mind last night?”
No, he answered briefly.
I knew from his one-word answer that he probably had been aware of my thoughts about John last night. I sighed heavily.
“It’s ju
st that I have regrets, Ben. That’s all.” I was conflicted about pining for a man I’d lost long ago and caring for a man who had been long dead. Neither one of them held my hand as I walked along the edge of the lake.
Yes, I know, he said quietly. I too have regrets of my own.
“Really? I’m sorry. They’re a drag, aren’t they? I would love to be one of those people who says, ‘I have no regrets. None!’ What regrets do you have, Ben?”
My untimely death before I could marry or have children. My presentation to you as an otherworldly spirit, a ghost. That I cannot protect you as I would like. That I cannot hold your hand when you are lonely.
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“Oh, Ben!” I reached out to the side as if to take his hand though I had no idea where he was in relation to me. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel bad. If you didn’t read my mind, I could hide some of these emotions from you.”
Yes, I know. Forgive me. It is not always by choice that I am privy to your innermost secrets. My hand is here, next to yours. I see you reach for it.
I opened my palm and imagined him taking my hand in his. For a brief instant, I thought I could feel a sensation of warmth, but then it was gone. Probably just my imagination.
“Did you feel that?” I asked Ben with a thumping heart.
“Miss Crockwell,” someone called out to me from behind. I turned.
Deputy Kline approached me. I wondered what brought him out so early in the morning, or what he wanted with me. He was suited up for work in his uniform of black ball cap, black polo shirt with embroidered white star on the chest, green cargo pants and belt with pistol and handcuffs on his hip.
“Yes?”
“I’m glad I caught you this morning,” He said. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since the other day, and frankly I wasn’t as polite as I could have been that afternoon. I was in a bit of shock.”
I waited. What did he want? I hadn’t warmed to him at all.
He removed his ball cap and ran a hand through short, graying hair.
“I think Josh told you about Jason Strait and his history.”
I nodded. “Most of it anyway.”
“And that my son was killed as a direct result of something he did in Afghanistan,” he stated flatly, showing little emotion other than a ticking in his jaw.
“I heard that. I’m so sorry.”
He nodded and pressed his lips together in a bitter grimace.
“Well, I’m sorry you had to be dragged into all of this, from finding Jason’s body to that business last night at the cabin with his brother. I talked to Josh on the phone this morning, and he told me you’d met Scott, and that you were the one who knew where he was.”
I nodded. What did he want? Surely not just to back-brief me on what I already knew?
“Tensions are running high around here right now, Miss Crockwell. Everyone is mad at everyone. I just wanted to warn you to stay away from Scott Strait. As of last night, he’s our prime suspect in Jason’s murder. His behavior has been suspicious, and they’ve had a history of coming to blows with each other.”
I nodded again.
“Are you going to arrest him?” As if Deputy Kline really needed to tell me that! Pffftttt…
Surprisingly, he did.
“Not right now. We don’t have enough evidence. But someone pushed Jason Strait off the cliff, and that someone is probably his brother, Scott. I just want you to be careful and avoid him.”
I bobbed my head. I had no intention of seeking Scott Strait out. He scared me anyway. I could feel the undercurrent of violence in him when he neared me. But then again, Sean and his grandmother, Mary, seemed pretty hostile, too.
Deputy Kline nodded. “Good. All right! Have a good day, Miss Crockwell. Try to enjoy your stay here. Believe me, it’s a beautiful lake and a nice campground. Usually pretty peaceful.”
“Thank you,” I said.
The deputy turned around, and I watched him walk toward his sheriff’s truck in the parking lot.
Have you decided who the killer is amongst this group yet, Minerva?
“I don’t have a clue, Ben. Like I said, probably all of them.”
Ben chuckled, and I grinned in response.
“What do you want to do today?” I asked him.
Something relaxing? Perhaps a game of chess? I saw a chess set in a cupboard in the RV.
“Chess? How? You dictate your moves to me?”
Exactly!
“Sure! Sounds fun.”
Shall we play down here by the edge of the lake on the iron tables?
I looked toward the blue-painted picnic benches. Someone would think I was wacky playing by myself, but why not? It was a nice day, too nice to be inside.
“The picnic benches. Okay!”
I retrieved the chess set from my RV and settled down on a bench to play. Ben’s plan to dictate his moves to me worked out quite nicely although at times, I was tempted to ignore him when his move put one of my pieces in jeopardy.
While we played, happy campers began to emerge from their RVs and go about the business of camping. Some strolled by, nodding and smiling or offering greetings. Others headed off toward the lake with fishing poles.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sean driving a small golf cart around as he tended to the chores of working at an RV park. I threw occasional glances toward the cabins to see if Scott emerged, but I never saw him.
You do not appear to be concentrating, Minerva, Ben said with a chuckle as he directed me to take my own queen with his knight.
“I can’t. I’m distracted, watching Sean and wondering what Scott is doing.” I leaned back. The game was almost over. I had lost my queen, and it was now a matter of simply checkmating me. I conceded nothing though.
“Who do you think did it, Ben?”
It is difficult to say, my dear. It is far easier to hazard a guess as to who did not commit the murder. You did not, and I did not.
“Well, you don’t seriously think Josh did, do you? Or Deputy Kline?”
I hesitate to speak ill of your suitor, Minerva, but I am suspicious of his charming ways. Surely, a smile so wide hides secrets, no?”
“Ben,” I laughed. “Just because he’s handsome and charming doesn’t make him a killer. You’re handsome and charming, and you’re not a killer.”
Why, Minerva! I am flattered by your words. Ben coughed, and I knew I had embarrassed him. What I wouldn’t give to see the bronzing of his cheeks as he blushed.
“Get serious now,” I said. “You don’t really think either deputy would murder someone, do you? They’re cops!”
I think you liken all policemen to your husband, my dear. Surely, there are corrupt and evil policemen as there are in every walk of life.
“Well, maybe. I’ve never known anyone as honest and straightforward as John,” I said. “Well, with the exception of you.”
Thank you, Ben said. His tone was wry.
“Okay, so you think either deputy could have pushed Jason Strait off a cliff. I suppose we ought to figure out what Jason was doing on the cliff in the first place. I take it he walked there from the park or was driven. I think his car is still in the parking lot, at least I think Josh told me that at dinner.”
I am listening.
“What if someone drove Jason to the cliff for a private conversation? What if he hiked there, for whatever reason, and someone followed him and found the perfect opportunity to do away with him?
Yes?
“Well, either scenario. I’m not sure it matters.”
But whom?
“If you had your way, the list would be Josh, Deputy Kline, Scott, Sean and Mary, right? Did I forget anyone?”
No, that is everyone we know about.
“Five people. Darn! I hope I never have five people who would like to kill me in my lifetime.”
I cannot imagine such a thing.
“I’m eliminating Josh and Deputy Kline. Josh is way too nice, and I just don
’t think Deputy Kline would throw a lifetime of police work away on a grudge, no matter how much he hated Jason. Scott does seem the most likely, but he could have killed his brother before. He’s probably had lots of opportunity. If anything, he didn’t tell command about what Jason did in Afghanistan, so he actually protected him. And if he’s still mad about Jason stealing a girlfriend or two, that was some time ago.”
Continue.
“I’m thinking. Mary is cranky and super defensive about Sean, but come on! A little old lady murdering a strapping Army veteran? It boggles the mind. Sean would be my number two suspect. He’s kind of cranky, too.”
And you believe our murderer is “cranky?” Ben laughed.
“You know what I mean!” I chewed my lip. “Oh, I don’t know,” I said in frustration. “I’m hardly qualified to figure all this out. I’ll just let the police handle it.”
Minerva, dear girl, do you really believe you can just let the matter go? Turn your back on it and enjoy your visit here at Sunny Lake RV Park?
I grinned and shrugged. “No, but it was a good idea!”
Checkmate, my dear.
I looked down at the board. Sure enough, Ben’s black rook and king had my defenseless white king checkmated.
“What could I do or say to force the truth out of someone?” I mused.
You will do no such thing, Minerva Crockwell!
I heard the fear in his voice, and that was the only thing that kept me from snapping at his forceful tone.
“Okay, okay, I was just tossing around ideas. Relax, Ben. I’m still here to drive us around.”
If you think for one moment that is why I remain with you, madam, you are very much mistaken.
“Why do you stay with me exactly? Have we figured that out?”
No!
I bit my lip. I’d made Ben angry, and I wasn’t sure why I had.
His voice softened.
I do not know why we are connected, Minerva, but we are. I told you before that I tried to leave you once at the beginning, and I floundered without purpose, without direction, as if I were surely dying once again. Perhaps you needed me and called to me when you visited Cape Disappointment. Perhaps I was not truly meant to die there in my sleep on November 18, 1805. Perhaps we were meant to be together, and our souls reached for each other through time. I cannot say. But our connection is much, much more than simply a journey in a vehicle.
Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 02 - Trouble at Sunny Lake Page 7
