Cat Got Your Corpse

by Louise Lynn

  She found it behind a large fallen log, crawling with the largest black ants she’d ever seen in her life. If she had her macro lens, she’d have taken many artfully focused pictures. As it were, her heart pounded and she kept her mind on holding her cat’s leash. He had a bad habit of jumping into danger at the worst time—or the best time, considering who was asked.

  The thing lumbered ever closer, and more branches snapped and pine needles crunched.

  She peeked over her log and saw a great swath of green and brown, and muddy brown hair pulled into a ponytail.

  Ranger Albright?

  Hazel felt her cheeks heat and tried to come up with a logical reason to be hiding from a very human person—one who, according to James Duke, may have been at the campsite the morning of the murder.

  Hazel stayed hidden and watched.

  At first, Ranger Albright didn’t do anything odd. She looked around, much like Hazel had done. She examined the rip in the tent and the blood stain. She toed a pinecone with her boot. She even slipped on a pair of blue latex gloves.

  The ranger opened and closed the bear box, but didn’t bother to check the contents of the cooler. Maybe she already knew it was the least incriminating thing ever.

  Then she pulled out a little ziplock baggie.

  Hazel squinted at it, but she couldn’t quite tell what was in it.

  However, it looked brownish gold and fuzzy.

  Thankfully, Anthony Ray didn’t charge her—he was too distracted by the huge ants.

  It gave Hazel a moment to pull out her phone, which was much less conspicuous than her Olympus, and snap a few photos.

  She zoomed in as Ranger Albright pulled the fuzzy stuff from the bag and shoved it into a few places. A nook in a tree. The metal spike near the tent. And, finally, she walked down toward where the body was found.

  Hazel scrambled to follow, as quietly as possible, and caught Ranger Albright placing a sprig of fuzz in the bark of the tree where Cliff Crawford was found.

  With a satisfied smile, the woman turned and left.

  Hazel waited a good five minutes to check it out, and when she did, her heart sank.

  Anthony Ray sniffed the fuzz from the tree and pulled a face with his tongue sticking out.

  “I don’t know about you, but I think this is mountain lion fur,” she told her cat, and snapped another photo for good measure.

  He sniffed it again.

  So, she’d just caught Ranger Albright planting evidence of a mountain lion attack after the crime.

  Suspicious?

  Absolutely.

  And she had to do something about it.

  Chapter 18

  "This is about more than just picking up some ice and marshmallows, isn't it?" Esther asked as they pulled into the squat country store.

  Hazel nodded tightly, and hoped her cell phone worked here.

  She hadn't told Esther much since she was worried that the ranger might somehow overhear, and she hadn't informed the deputies for the same reason.

  Her father had been busy on a nature hike, so Hazel took that opportunity to leave the camp with Esther and give Sheriff Cross a call.

  “Are you going to tell me what it's about?" Esther asked with all the patience of a saint.

  Hazel let her hands drop from the steering wheel and gave Anthony Ray, curled between the two of them on the truck’s middle seat, a pat on the head. "Yeah. And it's not good.”

  She told Esther.

  When Hazel finished, Esther's eyes looked like a pair of petite pistachio macaroons. "James was there that night? And you caught the ranger planting evidence? Why would she do that? They already went over the crime scene."

  Hazel shrugged. "Maybe once her ranger buddies go over it, they'll find the mountain lion fur and think the police missed it. I don't know. But it's really fishy."

  Esther chewed on her bottom lip. “Yeah, it's more than fishy. Don't you think James Duke is a little bit suspicious?"

  Hazel opened her mouth and shut it again. "He was really forthcoming."

  "After he blatantly lied to you about fifty times. There's no saying some of the things he told you today aren’t lies either," Esther said, as if Hazel needed reminding of that.

  She'd had suspects lie to her in the past. Obviously, most people didn't fess up to murder when asked. But James Duke didn’t seem like a great actor either, though, Hazel realized, she’d been fooled before.

  "If he is the killer, why did he give me the pictures he took when he snuck back to the campsite? Though, he does have a motive. But without the murder weapon, it’s impossible to be sure.”

  Esther shrugged. "You're not being as suspicious of other people as you usually are, so I don't want you falling down on your game. But I’d say it’s most likely that ranger, if you wanted my opinion.”

  Hazel chewed her bottom lip. There was a boot print at the crime scene, and Ranger Albright did wear boots. Then so did Summer Crawford, but she obviously hadn’t been there that morning. “Yeah, I have a nagging in my gut that it could be her. But what’s her motive?”

  Esther stared out the window. “I honestly don’t know what drives anyone to murder, but if she knew what that horrible Crawford man did, maybe it was enough.”

  She was right about that. Still, it wasn’t a solid enough motive, especially since Hazel didn’t know if Ranger Albright even knew Cliff Crawford. “Maybe, but I need more information. And—”

  “And the murder weapon. I know. For now, are you going to call Sheriff Cross while I run in and get a few things?"

  Hazel gave her a grateful smile. "If you'd be so kind."

  Thankfully, the cell signal was strong enough to make a phone call, and Sheriff Cross picked up on the third ring. From the long sigh he took, she could tell he was already exhausted. "Hazel. Deputy Simmons told me what you found out about this Abby Reynolds girl. I'm running some background on her, and she's been arrested numerous times. She usually got out on bail, but she spent a few nights in jail for pulling various dangerous protests, including one that got a fellow protester’s arm broken."

  "Oh, that’s interesting. Who was the protester that got hurt? Was it James Duke?”

  “No, but his name is on the bail slip. Isn’t he the other hunter?”

  So James and Abby had been close—close enough that he bailed her out of jail.

  “Yeah, actually that’s part of why I called.”

  She could picture Colton raising his eyebrow. “I notice this is from your cell phone. Did you have a major falling out with the ranger?"

  She gave an uneasy chuckle. "Not quite." Then she told him what she'd seen, and what James Duke told her.

  Sheriff Cross was quiet for a long moment. "Tampering with a crime scene is a crime, as I'm sure you remember."

  Hazel pursed her lips. "I never tampered with a crime scene. I only borrowed evidence once or twice."

  He chuckled. "Okay. Sure. This is more than that. But I think you're right. Albright is really trying to blame it on a mountain lion, for whatever reason. Let Deputy Simmons know, but I'm not going to make it back up there until tomorrow."

  “Problems in town?" Hazel asked carefully.

  From the sigh he gave, Hazel figured that was the case. “Nothing major, but we’re swamped with paperwork. However, I'll run a background on Albright and James Duke."

  "Do that. And if there's anything suspicious in the the photos he gave me, I'll let you know. So how is Violet?”

  Sheriff Cross snorted. "Hopefully with your mom and Ruth. She's fine, though she did say she could’ve handled herself in the woods with you if she had to."

  Hazel figured as much, and thought of a way she could make it up to both Violet and Ruth. She wondered if ice cream would be enough. Probably not. "Promise me when we go on a trip someday, something like this won't happen."

  She imagined him raising both of his eyebrows. "Whoa, a trip huh? And where did you have in mind, Ms. Hart?"

  Hazel let out a hopeful sigh. "I don't know,
what can your tiny town sheriff salary cover? I'm guessing not a tropical jaunt to Hawaii?"

  Colton let out a bark of laughter, and it warmed her chest considerably. "Hey, don't make fun. Anyway, with all the wedding photography you've been doing lately, I thought you'd be rolling in cash. Is Hawaii where you want to go?"

  She felt her cheeks heat, and ran her fingers over Anthony Ray’s fur. The cat purred, and she tried to think of something to say.

  She honestly hadn't expected Colton to agree to that. Hawaii seemed a bit romantic. Though they were dating. Maybe even semi-seriously at this point. "If you wanted to go. Or you know someplace else. Wherever."

  "And that's the Hazel I know. One of these days. I am going to steal you away for a trip, even if it's just a few days. Oh no, Edith is giving me that look."

  Hazel knew what he meant. The ancient secretary who ran the Sheriff's office could be severe, at times. Her blue eyeshadow caked eyes were probably narrowed into daggers at him for not doing his work. "Okay, I'll let you go. See you tomorrow."

  "Yeah, and Hazel, stay safe."

  "Will do, sheriff.” She hung up as Esther climbed back into the car with a much larger bag than Hazel assumed. "Is that junk food I see?"

  Esther gave her a withering look. "Shut up. Adventuring makes one hungry. No wonder you eat so much."

  Hazel could only laugh.

  When they got back to the campground it was edging toward evening. Hazel's eyes pinched with tiredness. They've gotten up way too early, and she was ready to eat and collapse in her tent, listening to a chorus of the bird calls and her father’s snores.

  Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be immediately possible since Summer Crawford was standing near their campsite arguing with Deputy Simmons.

  "It's my property. The sheriff let us get some of our things yesterday. Why not now?”

  Deputy Simmons gave her an apologetic glower, and Hazel was sure he was the only person who could pull it off. “The sheriff let you take specific items unrelated to the crime. Everything else stays. Nothing I can do about it."

  The girl pushed her broad shoulders back and her chest out. That day she'd gone for an outfit of capri pants and a tank top, though she was still wearing the heavy boots she had before.

  Did she ever take those things off?

  “You're saying our cooler is evidence? It has our food in it. Not the monster who killed my father," she said and made that obnoxious pa-shaw sound again.

  Hazel stepped next to Deputy Simmons. "Actually, I saw inside that cooler yesterday. It only had some coffee creamer and ice. And the ice is melted by now.”

  Deputy Simmons gave her grateful nod. "See? Coffee creamer. And I’m sorry if you have to buy more, but they’re the sheriff's orders."

  Summer Crawford’s lips pulled into an ugly sneer. “Coffee creamer? Well, if that's the case, I guess I'll let it go." She then glanced at James Duke, who was kneeling on the ground near the diesel truck and petting the dogs.

  They nuzzled him and rolled on their backs to have their bellies rubbed.

  Summer’s expression turned dangerous. "What did I tell you about coddling them? They're supposed to be hunters, not babies!”

  "Didn't you want to have a chat with her?” Esther said, lugging the bag to the campsite.

  Hazel shrugged. “Need maybe, want—no.”

  Deputy Simmons laughed. "I don't blame you. I had to question her, and it wasn't pleasant."

  "I can imagine,” Hazel said and gave Deputy Simmons a pleading look. “Make sure she doesn't kill me."

  He chuckled, and Hazel made her slow way toward Summer Crawford, who was still yelling at James Duke and the dogs. The hounds cowered before her, though when they spotted Hazel their tails wagged, hitting the ground with an even thud.

  "What now?" Summer Crawford snarled and turned around. "You?" She said it as if Hazel were a cockroach, or some particularly hideous ocean creature from the depths.

  "Me," Hazel said and gave her the best smile she could fathom. "I know you thought my father might have something to do with this but–"

  "Shut it. I don't need your ‘my daddy's innocent’ speech. He hated my father and threatened him. And now, the great Cliff Crawford is dead. This is not a coincidence," she said, and her eyes were as hard as flint.

  Hazel nodded. "I understand, but I also know my father, and he wouldn't hurt anyone, no matter what he said."

  “Oh, that's rich. Your daddy wouldn't hurt anyone? So you're basically calling him a coward now. Sort of like James here," she said and pointed at the young man.

  His cheeks reddened, and he avoided Hazel's eyes.

  "I don't think not killing constitutes someone being a coward. But besides my father, can you think of anyone who had a vendetta against your dad?"

  Summer let out an unpleasant bark of laughter. "Plenty of people. After the incident in Tanzania, the one that your dad publicized, my father received all sorts of death threats. But, we all know who started that, like I said," she said and looked toward their campsite. It was hidden by trees, and Hazel's father wasn't immediately visible, but she still felt a shiver shoot up her spine.

  No wonder James Duke was afraid of Summer Crawford's temper. It was like a desert thunderstorm. It came up out of nowhere and made a lot of racket.

  This wasn’t getting Hazel anywhere. Maybe she should try a different tactic “I heard you contacted the press yesterday," she said and hoped that was nonchalant enough.

  Summer glared daggers at James Duke, who jumped and buried his chin in his chest to avoid her deadly gaze. "Did you? I wonder who could've told you that. What about it?"

  Hazel shrugged. "I just thought it was an interesting choice. Did you call the Cedar Valley Post or–"

  Summer laughed, though there was an edge of humor to this one instead of straight out malice. "The Cedar Valley Post? Why would I call a two bit rag like that when I have actual important publications in my contacts?"

  Hazel blinked. "What kind of important publications?"

  Summer’s smile turned nasty, or maybe just nastier. She couldn't imagine the girl ever having a sweet smile. "Sportsman's Digest, Hunter's Monthly and, the biggest of them all, Trophy Supreme. They were the saddest to hear about my father's passing," she said and a shadow crossed her face.

  "Oh? Were they big fans of his?"

  Summer’s expression softened into something between sadness and regret for a brief moment, and she tapped her left foot, heavily booted, on the ground. "Fans? No. They were my biggest sponsors. Well, our biggest sponsors, and in light of his murder, his legacy is on my shoulders now.” She looked as proud as Anthony Ray when he caught a mouse.

  That was a new one. “Trophy hunters have sponsors?" Hazel heard herself say it before she could bite her tongue.

  However, Summer Crawford took her incredulousness for interest. The young woman's eyes shone bright. "Of course. Sponsorship is a pretty lucrative business. I was the one who got the sponsorships. I mean, look at me. Of course they wanted me to promote their items. But after daddy had to retire, they were more than happy to include him. Cliff Crawford was a big name. I’m going to make sure Summer Crawford is even bigger.”

  Hazel was looking at her, but she couldn’t see why anyone would want Summer to promote something. Unless that something was pure nastiness.

  Also, hadn’t Abby said something about corporate sponsorships to Violet? "So do you take pictures with their equipment or something? That girl camping over there has sponsors too. She posts to Instagram."

  Summer Crawford rolled her eyes. "My sponsors are way more professional than that. I do magazine shoots. And, of course, all of our equipment came from them, including everything I wear. It’s all top of the line. I wouldn’t have anything less.”

  Hazel gave Summer’s outfit a long look. Those boots looked about he right size for the crime scene, but since it was Summer’s camp, it didn’t prove anything. “Even those boots? And those motorcycles?”

  Summer’s expr
ession turned sly. “These boots are incredible. You have no idea how amazing they are. And those motorcycles are part of the deal. They’re used for active big game hunters who need to hunt on the go. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t.” Mostly since Hazel had no desire to kill things for fun. “I know you’re convinced it was my dad, but he doesn’t have the murder weapon, and without it—“

  “The Sheriff can’t solve the case, right? Well, he’ll have to look harder, or maybe I should help him. You don’t seem to be doing a good job. He’d better hurry up before I find the killer first. When I do, they’ll be sorry.”

  "That'll be quite the story for Trophy Supreme," Hazel said, trying not to bristle at that.

  Summer smiled, showing her teeth. "Oh yeah, it sure will. If they thought Cliff Crawford was a legend, wait until they learn about me. Now, James and I have work to do. Come on, coward," she said and marched back toward their campsite. The dogs whined and followed, and James Duke gave Hazel a long look before he turned and went as well.

  Chapter 19

  It wasn't until after dinner, when Hazel and Esther were tucked into their shared tent, that she finally had time to look at those photos James had taken.

  Esther sat next to her on the cot, Anthony Ray snuggled between them, and they bent over Hazel's laptop. Thank goodness she had a car charger or her battery would’ve run down by now.

  "What's with all these young people and sponsorships?" Esther asked.

  Hazel shrugged. "I don't know, but it seems like a pretty sweet deal. Neither of them have a normal job. They just get corporate sponsors to pay them to do stuff."

  Esther chewed her bottom lip. "Where's the work ethic involved? You just have some bigwigs paying you for doing whatever. It seems a little bit easy. Especially if the sponsor backs out, what then?"

  “I guess they have to get a real job."

  Esther snorted and pushed her reading glasses up her nose.

  There weren’t very many photos on the SD card that James Duke had given her— only about twenty—and they were all taken in the pre-dawn forest, meaning the pictures were dark.