New River Breeze

by Ed Robinson

  “That’s very kind of you,” she said. “But I think you may be conflicted.”

  “How so?”

  “A part of you wants to believe,” she said.

  “A part of me wants to believe in Santa Claus,” I said. “Doesn’t make him real.”

  “Is that what you think we do?” she asked. “Wait by the chimney on Christmas Eve with our instruments?”

  “I don’t see much difference,” I said.

  “Instead you would hide away with a view of the tree,” she said. “Not let Santa know you were there.”

  “If I believed.”

  “I can see I’m not winning any converts today,” she said. “But thank you for your efforts.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “I’d be happy to assist in any future endeavors that might require my assistance.”

  We stopped off at our camp and gathered our packs, loading them into the canoe. The CAPS team filled their boats, and we all started paddling back to the parking lot. Red took his spot up front, which he seemed to enjoy. The ghost hunters were all out of gas by the time we landed. Brody and I carried most of their gear and loaded their vehicle. I shook hands with the director and accepted my payment.

  “Better luck next time,” I told her.

  She didn’t respond. She got in the big SUV and drove away. I guessed this would be our last mission together.

  Ten

  We hadn’t been called upon by any of the local police departments in a long time. No private jobs had presented themselves either. I was content to fish for trout and hike to waterfalls, but the lack of business was troubling. We toyed with the idea of taking a vacation; enjoying the warmth and sun together for a week or so, but my heart wasn’t in it. My trip to the islands to assist Holly had scratched any itch I had coming from that direction. Brody didn’t push it, so I let the thought go.

  We hadn’t heard from either of our two friends lately either. Angelina and Rominger were helpful when a mission was underway but absent from our lives otherwise. The isolation of cabin life was fine with me, but Brody would have liked to have more of a social life. She thought about getting a part-time job just to get out and meet people.

  “I’m okay with that,” I said. “But when we do get a job, your schedule will interfere.”

  “You can handle the investigations by yourself,” she said. “You’re completely capable.”

  “We’re a team,” I countered. “Plus we only have one car.”

  “Should we buy another one?”

  “Inviting unnecessary complications,” I said. “Two to maintain. Two insurance bills. More gas.”

  “You dropped almost ten grand on Holly,” she said. “That would have bought you a decent truck.”

  “That’s ten grand less in the kitty,” I said. “Another reason not to spend unwisely.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you spent unwisely,” she said. “You did what you had to do to help a friend.”

  “Last time, I promise.”

  “I hear you,” she said. “We’ll see.”

  Spring stretched into summer before we finally got the call. Strangely enough, it involved the New River, State Park. Someone was terrorizing the campers at both the tent sites and the camper sites. A dozen reports of theft and vandalism had been reported in the last few weeks. The park gates were closed and locked every night. The campers couldn’t leave, and no one could get in. There were no rangers on premises once those gates were shut. The campers were on their own until morning. We were being asked by the Ashe Country Sheriff’s Office if we were interested in helping. I asked if we could sit down with them and the park authorities to discuss possible plans of attack, without committing to taking the job. The park itself was over seven-hundred and fifty acres. There were four separate access roads, all with gates. The camper area was far removed from the tent area. The canoe access sites were even further away and not easy to get to. I didn’t immediately have any good ideas on how to approach the situation.

  The first thing we did was print out a map from the park’s website. It lacked detail but gave us a general idea of where things were and how far apart they were. You could drive around inside the gates at night from one end to the other; you just couldn’t leave. Brody and I ran through a few different scenarios before we met with the cops and the rangers. If we split up, we could be at two different places at once. We could use our two-way radios to communicate, as there was no cell service anywhere in the park. That meant we’d each be alone during our surveillance. No reports had come from the campsites that could only be accessed by canoe. They’d come from the walk-in tent area and the camper area. There were two sites to cover, with two people to do it. All of the incidents had happened at night, which meant we’d have to stay awake and sleep during the daytime. This would be manageable for a few days, but if nothing broke in the case, we’d be looking for some serious sleep. We’d get tired and less attentive.

  The incidents had happened every two or three days. If that continued, we’d have a shot at catching the perpetrators quickly. There was always the chance that we’d miss them. It was a big park. The camping areas weren’t small, either. I knew that we couldn’t remain vigilant all night long. We had our doubts about accepting the mission, but we hadn’t had any other offers in too long. We decided to take the job.

  We met at the park visitor’s center two days later. The head ranger had his map prepared to show which sites had been hit by vandals and thieves. The Sheriff said he was attempting to get a volunteer from among his deputies to stay overnight in the park. He would be in plain clothes with no patrol car, but we’d have someone nearby with arresting authority. The Sheriff’s name was Pete Powell. He was fairly young to be in his position. He was fit, athletically built, and clean cut like a soldier.

  “Have you gotten a reference for me from some other department?” I asked him.

  “I called Highway Patrol about these incidents,” he said. “They suggested I call you.”

  “Have you learned enough about me to form an opinion as to my usefulness, or trustworthiness?”

  “I initially had some reservations,” he admitted. “But you were spoken highly of.”

  “My partner Brody is former FBI,” I said. “My experience is much more unorthodox.”

  “That’s what I was told,” he said. “But your demonstrated skills seem fit for this situation.”

  “Let’s think about a plan,” I said. “If I’m down in the tent camping area and Brody is up here with the campers, where’s the cop going to be?”

  “Here in the visitor’s center,” he said. “Closer to the campers. I suggest having Brody with them. You’ll be down below at a tent site.”

  “We’ll need police radios,” I said. “We have our two-ways, but they’re on a different frequency.”

  “We got portables to spare,” he said. “But you’ll need to find a way to recharge them each day.”

  “Any of these incidents happen in daylight?”

  “All at night,” he said. “Well after everyone is asleep. Stolen coolers and propane tanks. Trash scattered about. Towels and clothing pulled off lines and thrown in the dirt.”

  “Anyone been physically threatened?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “But that’s what we’re worried about. Someone is going to catch this guy in the act, and a confrontation will ensue.”

  “Can the campers carry weapons?”

  “With the proper permits, yes,” he said. “Some want safety from bears, so we allow it.”

  “So a gun-toting camper might decide to take a potshot at someone stealing his beer,” I said. “Maybe the perp shoots back.”

  “It would be a nightmare for the park,” he said. “It depends on fees from campers.”

  “Are ATVs allowed?”

  “Only on designated trails and with a permit,” he said. “It’s all shut down before dark.”

  “So, no campers have them?”

  “Not even a golf cart,” he said
. “Other than the RV hookups, it’s a pristine area.”

  “We’ve been out here twice,” I said. “Down beyond the canoe launch in the wilderness area.”

  “Rough camping?”

  “Yes, but only for a couple of nights,” I said. “There’s a lot more of the park that we haven’t seen.”

  “There are parts I haven’t seen,” the ranger said. “Our intruder could easily hide out in the boonies.”

  “If he shows himself and we don’t nab him, I can likely track him,” I said. “I just need a starting point and some clues.”

  “How soon can you start?” he asked.

  “Give us a day to take on supplies,” I said. “Day after tomorrow.”

  “Check in here just like a camper would,” he said. “Then, blend in.”

  “Is there an empty RV we could use as a home base?” I asked. “I can tent it, but Brody will need a place to sleep.”

  “I’ll give a list to the Sheriff,” he said. “Someone will volunteer, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll need that day to make some calls,” the Sheriff said. “Still need one of my men to step up for this duty too.”

  “We’ll be here in two days,” I said. “No cop cars.”

  “I’ll reserve a tent site for you,” the Ranger said. “Close to the restrooms on the riverside.”

  “Great,” I said. “See you soon.”

  We took a quick tour via the surface roads before leaving the park; getting a feel for the full layout. There were several RVs on pads with hookups in the upper area. Half a dozen tents were spread out over the lower area, spaced well apart. There was a conference center midway down the hill, but it was currently unoccupied. Other parking areas and overlooks were vacant as well. It was a quiet place; secluded and wild except for the blacktop roads. The New River flowed through the grounds with considerable force, singing its song as it rippled over the rocks.

  We had a lot of work ahead of us to get prepared, so we didn’t loiter long. We drove back to the cabin to round up what we had and figure out what else we would need. I made arrangements for Red to stay at the doggie spa for up to a week. It would be unfair to him to keep him on a leash for that long, as the park rules required. I certainly hoped that we’d have our man in less than a week. If not, the Sheriff’s Department wouldn’t want to see the bill for our time and service.

  Brody made a quick check of our handguns, stowing mine in my pack and hers in her purse. We put food in a cooler and water in jugs. The water at the campsites was supposed to be potable, but we brought a filtering device along just in case. One of us could always drive out during the day for additional supplies if needed, so we didn’t try to take enough food for a week. After dropping Red off in town, we loaded the car with our tent, sleeping bags, the cooler, and a few smaller bags of goodies. We were ready.

  We went to the Banner Elk Café for pizza and beers instead of cooking. It had been a long enough day as it was. The lodge section of the restaurant wasn’t crowded, so we sat and lingered over one more beer.

  “What kind of character do you think we’ll be dealing with?” Brody asked.

  “Could be another hermit situation,” I speculated. “Except this one is meaner than the last one.”

  “Because he steals valuables?” she asked.

  “And tears up stuff for no good reason,” I answered. “He’s got anger issues.”

  “Maybe he has a beef with the campers, or the park itself.”

  “We should ask the ranger about disgruntled ex-employees,” I said.

  “Good idea,” she said. “Should have thought of that when we were there.”

  “Someone like that might know a way in at night even when the gates are locked.”

  “Or kept a key,” she said. “Or had a copy made before they got fired.”

  “If such a person exists, that would be our most likely suspect.”

  “If not?” she asked.

  “Some homeless person with a bad attitude,” I said. “He figured out a way to get food and supplies, at least when the campers are here. I can’t imagine he’d be out here during the winter months.”

  “The incidents just started happening recently,” she said. “The weather has been pretty nice.”

  “Let’s hope it’s not a former soldier,” I said. “I don’t want to go against someone with skills.”

  “That would be the type to live out there in the wild, though,” she said. “Not a drug addict or alcoholic.”

  “We won’t know until we catch him,” I said. “Or get a good look at him anyway.”

  “How're the knees?” she asked. “Are you ready to chase after our camp terrorist?”

  “As good as they’ve been in a while,” I said. “Though I’d rather not go running through the mountains.”

  “A gun will stop most people without being fired,” she said. “Unless they are armed too.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said. “How about you? You ready to give chase if he runs through your area?”

  “I’m good,” she said. “He won’t know what hit him.”

  We felt like we were prepared. We got a good night’s sleep, thinking it might be our last for a while. I was good at napping during the day, but Brody wasn’t. She worked best well rested, on her normal rhythm. I’d have to make sure she got sufficient sleep, even if it meant sacrificing some of my rest.

  We fixed a big breakfast the next morning and took long hot showers. We locked up the cabin and headed back to the New River State Park. It was the fourth time we’d made this drive. Maybe we’d accidentally stumble across the Moon-eyed People this trip. Maybe our intruder was one of them; a fast running little white person with an affinity for camping supplies. That would explain why he only worked at night.

  We parked in the visitor’s lot and went in to see the ranger. The Sheriff wasn’t there yet. We soon learned that he wasn’t coming.

  “He couldn’t get one of his men to volunteer,” the ranger said. “I gave him a key to the gate on 221.”

  “It will take them too long to respond,” I said. “What am I supposed to do? Tie the guy up and wait thirty minutes?”

  “His exact words were tell them not to shoot anybody and good luck,” he said.

  “That’s a fine how-do-you-do,” I responded. “We’re investigators, but we’re still civilians.”

  “Technically, I’m an officer of the law,” he said. “But mostly I pick up trash and rent campsites.”

  “Can we arrange for you or one of your men to stay overnight?”

  “If I had known in advance I could have tried,” he said. “But we’re on a strict no overtime mandate.”

  “Do you have any handcuffs?” Brody asked. “That would make it easier to hold someone.”

  “I do not,” he said.

  “Give the Sheriff a call,” I said. “We’re supposed to get police radios too. This is not getting off to a good start.”

  “You can always go back home,” he said. “I would, under the circumstances.”

  “That’s not how we operate,” I told him. “We agreed to a job. We’ll see it through if there’s any way possible.”

  “That’s on you,” he said. “I’m locking up and going home when the time comes.”

  “Does Brody have an RV?”

  “Yes, that much we accomplished,” he said. “Follow me, and I’ll show it to you.”

  The RV sites were very close to the visitor’s center. They were quite civilized, with power, water, and waste hookups. It wasn’t real camping, in my opinion, but it would be nice to have a central base to work from. The vacant camper we were shown was a small one, but it had a little fridge and a two-burner cooktop. It would do. The ranger went back to his desk, and we unloaded our food and some of our supplies.

  We were on our own. It made no sense for us to follow through with the mission, but that’s what we intended to do. We’d been through worse. Once we got Brody settled, we drove down to the lower parking lot. She hel
ped me carry my stuff into the walk-in campground. I had the first site on the river, directly across from the bathrooms and showers. There’d be a lot of foot traffic, but that would give me a good view of everyone who came and went. We had our two-way radios to stay in touch with each other. We’d both sit and observe during the day, between naps. We’d stay awake at night hoping to intercept whoever was stalking the grounds.

  I had a cooler, my weapon, and my wits. Brody took the car back to the RV and left me alone. I set up the tent and made myself at home, trying to blend in with the other campers already there. The river hummed a nice tune as it ran by the campground. It made me feel at home. I took a walk through the neighborhood, saying hi to passersby. Then I took a nap. The river sang me to sleep in no time at all. When I woke, it was late afternoon. I took a look around and saw that nothing had changed. No new campers had arrived, and everyone was settled in for the evening. I checked on Brody via radio. All was well with the glamor campers. There was nothing left to do but wait.

  I thought I might make a fire, but the grounds were picked clean of fallen wood for the most part. The Rangers sold bundles of firewood, but they were a long way from the tent sites, and Brody had the car. I could have asked her to get some and drive it down to me, but I figured that I’d have better night vision without a fire burning. As soon as it got dark, all the other tent campers got a fire going in the pits that were provided. I sat alone in the dark, overhearing their conversations. None of them involved a nighttime campground raider. I supposed the Rangers didn’t want the word getting out.

  I thought about trying to bait the person into my site by leaving something worth stealing in plain view, but I didn’t have much other than the cooler. I looked around for some other place to hide where I could see my tent but be concealed. The woods had been thinned out to create the campground. The only structure that offered concealment was the bathhouse. The other campers wouldn’t appreciate a strange man hanging out by the bathrooms all night. I waited until it got even darker, scanning the trees for a good spot. There wasn’t one, but I pulled my cooler out into plain sight and picked a random tree to hide behind. It would do no good if my target arrived from the parking lot. I was only protected from an approach from deeper in the campground.