Bats and Bones (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries) (10 page)

The asphalt
road made a loop at the end of the campground bordered by tent sites. A dirt
track forked off one side of the loop into the woods.

“Where does
that go?” River pointed.

“To a group
site back there. The Boy Scouts and other groups use it sometimes. No one’s
back there this weekend,” Larry said.

“Can we go
see?” River begged.

“Too dark,”
Larry said. “We didn’t bring flashlights.”

“Maybe
tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

They
continued on around the loop and back along the road to their campsite, leaving
River with his mother as they passed.

Mickey sat
forward in a camp chair, picking out an old folk tune on his guitar. Jane Ann
perched on the camper steps, arms around her knees, humming along with the
guitar. They both stopped when the walkers returned.

“Looks like
you kept things safe, Mickey,” Larry said. “Was it your face or your playing
that did it?”

“We’ve had
to fight off the Barbarians…to the death.”

“Good man.
We knew we could count on you, Mick.” Frannie unhooked Cuba’s leash and put her
back on her tether.

Mickey had
leaned his guitar against his chair and Jane Ann stood up and stretched. “I’m
headed to bed. Could be a short night.” She leaned over and kissed her husband,
taking his guitar to store in the RV. Good nights were said and she disappeared
inside.

Frannie
pulled a beer out of the cooler and sat down at the picnic table. To her
regret, Donna soon joined her. Larry sat by the fire ring near Mickey in the
other chair and Rob set a large piece of firewood on end and perched on that.
The men proceeded to solve the problems of the world—the sports world,
that is.

Donna said,
“Frannie, I’m sorry if I was rather abrupt yesterday about your mom. I know
it’s never easy.”

“You
weren’t abrupt,” Frannie lied. “I appreciate your thoughts. It’s just been a
hard time for me.”

“Do you
have any brothers or sisters?”

“No, but
Larry’s family has been very supportive.”

“What about
your dad? He’s gone also?”

Frannie
sighed. “He was killed in Korea when I was two.”

Donna sat
back. “Oh! I am sorry. Did your mother ever remarry?”

“No. I wish
she had. But she felt she needed to devote all of her time to me. Then when I
married and had kids, she substituted them for any other relationship. But I
know she must have been lonely at times.”

“Wow!”
Donna said. “That is dedication.”

“What about
your family? You’re not from around here are you?”

“No,
Wisconsin. My parents have both been gone for about twenty years. And I have no
siblings either.”

“Now I feel
bad, Donna. At least I had Mom for a long time, and she saw my kids grow up and
a couple of great-grandchildren even.”

In the dim
light of the lantern, Donna’s eyes glistened. Frannie noticed also that Donna’s
right hand lying on the table shook slightly. She thought about covering that
hand with her own, offering comfort, something—but the moment passed.
Larry stood and announced that he intended to go to bed.

“I’m
thinking Jane Ann’s got the right idea. We may be short on sleep
tonight—get it while we can.”

“Me too,”
Rob stood up and stretched.

“What is
the radar showing, Mickey?” Frannie climbed out of the cramped picnic bench and
arched, rubbing her lower back.

“Still
moving this way but not much change. An awfully big red blob though.”

“I hate
those red blobs.” Frannie picked up her beer can and put it in the recycling
bag already stashed in the back of the pickup. Mickey and Larry put the other
two chairs away. Rob and Donna took Bugger and headed across the road. Frannie
could see Stub and his friends still sitting next to the motorhome. Randy sat
slightly out of the circle brooding while his companions tried to outdo each
other with jokes and stories.

“See you in
the morning,” Donna called back.

“Let’s hope
we don’t see you sooner,” Mickey said.

Cuba stood
up eagerly and stood by the camper steps. She knew it was cooler inside and
probably sensed the imminent storm. Larry unhooked her tether and opened the
door for her.

Inside,
they set flashlights on the counter and Larry’s flip-flops and Frannie’s
moccasins in the shoe caddy by the door. Frannie also took their raincoats off
the hooks and laid them on the chair beside the door. Out of habit, she readied
a fresh pot of coffee to plug in the next morning. Larry put the weather radio
on his nightstand and made sure it was tuned in. Frannie pulled the comforter
off the bed, folded it and placed it on one of the dining benches.

“Think I’ll
just sleep in my clothes,” Larry said.

She
considered a minute. “Me too. Maybe if we’re fully prepared, nothing will
happen.” She was a great believer in unexpected things happening and expected
things not.

*********************

Happy
Camper Tip #9

The biggest
cause of clutter, especially when the grandchildren come along camping, is
shoes. In the case of grandchildren, those shoes get bigger every year. Since
campers are designed like boats to utilize every inch of space, there is
nowhere to put shoes that they will not be in the way. We removed the door from
a cabinet near the entrance and now all shoes go in there. No more senseless
size 12 Nike accidents.

Saturday Night

Frannie
first felt the hot smelly breath on her face and heard the rapid panting. One
problem with yellow labs is that their height puts their faces right on a level
with a sleeping human face. She emerged from sleep enough to hear a huge clap
followed by a roll of thunder. The sound triggered a violent trembling in the
dog, shaking the bed. Cuba preferred Larry’s company, especially during stress
and storms, but she had learned through experience that the chances of waking
Frannie in the middle of the night were much better. Frannie grabbed her
glasses and watch off the nightstand and pushed the glow button on the watch.
12:45. She got up, and coaxed Cuba to turn around in the narrow space.

“Back!
Back!” she hissed. Cuba finally maneuvered out of the bedroom into the living
area. Frannie sat on the couch, bending over to shield and reassure the dog.
More claps of thunder triggered more furious shuddering. She slid off the couch
to sit closer to the terrified dog. It also felt safer although she knew no reason
why. Cuba was no protection in a storm. The wind began to escalate, pounding
the sides of the camper. At one point, she could feel the floor underneath her
actually undulate with the gusts. Rain drubbed the roof and metal sides.

Suddenly, a
high shrill sound pierced the roaring of the wind. The weather radio went off
at Larry’s side and she heard him bolt from the bed. Nice to know something
could wake him.

He pushed
through the curtain at the bedroom entrance. “It’s a tornado warning,” he said.
“Better head for the showers.” He turned on the light above the sink, which
would run off the battery, but noticed that the microwave indicator was not
lit, so the power must be off. They slipped into shoes, put their raincoats on,
and grabbed the flashlights. By the time they had Cuba on her leash and Larry
got the door open, gripping the handle to keep the wind from taking it, they
could hear the loudspeaker from the DNR pickup urging immediate evacuation.

Larry and
Frannie rounded the end of the trailer and hit the full force of the wind and
rain. Frannie bent forward, clutching her raincoat hood at her throat to keep
it on her head. The rain pelted them in their faces like tiny arrows. Larry
handed her Cuba’s leash and motioned toward Stephanie’s unit. Oral communication
was out of the question. He headed to the rocking popup while Frannie continued
to tug Cuba forward. Lightning and thunder cracked and crashed around her,
punctuated by ominous pops from the tops of the trees. When she stopped to
check on Larry’s progress, someone ran into her from behind.

“Whoa!” She
barely heard the exclamation but she swung her flashlight around to reveal the
face of her brother-in-law. Jane Ann was clinging to his hand. Mickey mouthed
“Larry?” just as the person in question appeared carrying River, covered with a
blanket and Stephanie clinging to the back of his coat.

Rob and
Donna caught up with them, Rob with a tight grip on a squirming Bugger. Mickey
took Cuba’s leash from Frannie and tugged her forward, and the rest trudged
behind him. The tops of the trees waved like the fists of an angry mob
demanding somebody’s head. A small branch whipped across the road, catching
Jane Ann on the cheek. She yelped, ducked her head, and proceeded with greater
determination. As they neared the shower house, others joined them.

“Do we
separate the genders?” Rob yelled when they reached the entrance.

“Just get
inside,” Larry growled. They started into the women’s side because it was the
closest but it was already jammed with people. The word went back to reverse
direction and head for the men’s side. Heads lowered, they hit the wind again
and plodded around to the other side.

Frannie
thought she too was being hit by debris on the back of her head, but then
realized it was small hail. The hail provided the whole herd the needed
motivation to make the last few feet to the door. About fifteen people,
including Richard and Elaine and their friends, were already in the men’s side
when the newcomers burst in. With the power off, only emergency lights provided
dim lighting. Larry set River down next to his mom, shook the wet blanket and
hung it over a shower door. River clung to Stephanie’s legs while Frannie
grabbed some paper towels to make a pass at drying Cuba, who was still shaking
violently. Jane Ann wiped her face. The paper towel came away bloody and she
stood looking at it stupefied and then looked in the mirror above the sink. A
long cut ran from her right cheekbone down to her mouth.

“Jane Ann,
what happened?” Frannie asked, alarmed.

“I got hit
with something back there—I think it’s just superficial” She ripped off
another paper towel and held it to her cheek.

The door
opened again, letting in the roar of the wind. Stub and several of his buddies
hurried in followed by a couple of families. Stub’s face lit up when he saw the
Shoemakers and their friends, as if he had completed a pilgrimage across an
ocean instead of a few hundred feet down the road. The wind started creating
odd noises in the roof and they looked up in alarm. Mickey studied the screen
of his phone.

“There’s a
‘hook’ here in this mass and that often means a tornado, but it’s still south
of us and moving straight east right now. We might squeak by,” he said.

“Let’s hope
so,” Larry said, still eyeing the ceiling.

“Lar, this
is somethin’, huh?” Stub said, shedding his poncho. He spoke with bravado,
trying to cover his nervousness. The room was getting crowded now. Stub
introduced the two men behind him but the increasing roar of the wind drowned
out his voice and Larry just nodded. Others gave up trying to talk over the
noise and huddled with their companions. Frannie and Larry slid to the floor
against the wall. Frannie wanted to close her eyes or hide her face on Larry’s
sleeve but was afraid to miss what was happening. They sat looking up at the
roof, Cuba wedged in between them.

As quickly
as it had built, the noise subsided to the earlier dull roar.

Frannie
said to Larry, “Was that actually a tornado, do you think?”

He shrugged
but Stub heard her and shook his head. “Maybe close by but not here.”

Just then
the strains of “Amazing Grace” wafted over the wall from the women’s side.

“They’re
singing!” someone said.

“At least
it’s not ‘Nearer My God to Thee,’” Frannie said. Everyone quieted for a moment
to hear old hymn punctuated by intermittent crashes of thunder.

The door
opened again, breaking the spell, and Ranger Phillips entered. He nodded to
several of them and pulled a clipboard out from under his poncho. He began
working his way through the crowd, checking off names and asking questions as
he went. When he got to Stub, Stub looked around for his companions. He could
only find three.

“Who’s
missing?” Ranger Phillips asked.

“Uh,
Randy…and Darryl.”

“Were they
with you when you headed here?”

“Yeah! We
all left the motorhome at the same time.”

“Ranger
Sommers is checking the women’s side. Maybe they went over there.”

Stub
nodded, but didn’t look convinced.

Phillips
finished checking off everyone in the men’s side and left to compare notes with
Sommers.

“I think
the wind is dying down a little bit,” Larry said. He and Frannie got to their
feet—cement floors quickly became uncomfortable.

“Do you
think we had a tornado?” Stephanie asked him.

“I don’t
think so, but we could have some wind damage.”

Stephanie
looked glum.

Frannie
patted her on the back. “Keep your fingers crossed. The important thing is that
we are all okay.”

Stephanie
gave a weak smile and nodded. Several people sat on the floor using the wall as
a back support. Stephanie and Frannie had to be careful not to step on someone.
River tugged on his mom’s sleeve.

“What’s
happening, Mom? Are we gonna be okay?”

She roughed
up his spiky hair even more. “We’re fine. I think the storm’s almost over.”

“Good!”

Donna
sitting on the floor, pulled a pack of cards out of her raincoat pocket.

“River! Do
you know how to play Slap Jack?”

He looked
skeptical. “Nope.”

“It’s easy.
We divide up the cards and lay them down one at a time face up like this.” She
demonstrated. “If one of us lays down a jack,” she held one up for him to see,
“whoever slaps the pile first gets the whole pile! The one with the most cards
at the end wins.”

River, like
most kids, was intrigued by the physical aspects of the game. “Show me that
jack again.”

Donna
handed him a card to look at. “See that ‘J’ up in the corner? Do you know the
letter ‘J’?”

River
nodded seriously. “My
other
name is
John. I can spell it.”

“Your
other…oh, you mean, your middle name?”

“Yeah,
River John Ballard.”

“Well, sit
down and let’s play.”

He
collapsed to the floor next to Bugger in one fluid motion that was the envy of
everyone in the room over thirty, ending cross-legged. Donna expertly dealt the
cards. River checked each one before he laid it down, so he was well prepared
to slap at the appropriate times—and a few times it wasn’t. Soon several
other kids gathered around and were taken into the game. The adults stood
around smiling at the delight created by a simple, silly game. Frannie
remembered Donna stating earlier that she didn’t play games. Amazing how a
child could overcome adult quirks.

The door
opened again and Ranger Phillips hurried in. The sound of the storm when the
door was open had definitely subsided.

“Folks, the
warning has been lifted, so you are free to return to your camping units. I
think we dodged the bullet this time. There are some limbs down and a few tents
blown over, but no serious damage as near as we can tell. We’ll see what
daylight brings, but Sharon and I will be around tonight to help you with tent
problems.”

Those who
were sitting stood and gathered belongings. People began to file out the door.
The ranger motioned for Stub to wait.

“Your
friend Darryl is next door but no sign of Randy Burton. I’ve notified Agent
Sanchez since Mr. Burton is currently a person of interest, but we want you to
check and make sure he didn’t stay in the motorhome.”

Stub almost
looked sick. He nodded to the ranger and pulled his poncho over his head.

“Let’s get
out of here,” Larry said to Frannie. He picked River up again since the boy had
no shoes on. Stephanie and Frannie leading Cuba followed him out the door. The
Nowaks and the Ferraros had gone ahead. On the sidewalk leading from the shower
house, Larry stopped and looked back, then up at the peak of the shower
building. “Siding blew off from up there,” he said. “That’s the noise I heard
when I thought it might be taking the roof.”

The rain
had stopped and a fresh breeze blew from the north. “Look, River,” Larry
pointed at the glimpse of sky through the trees. “Stars! The storm is
definitely over.” River looked up and back at Larry with a wide grin. He gave
Larry a tight hug and his relief was almost palpable. Cuba trotted along
sensing the atmospheric change that confirmed the end of the storm. As they
returned to their campsites, they could see a few limbs askew in the tops of the
trees silhouetted against the sky.

“Look,
Mom!” River shouted, causing Larry to wince. “Our camper’s okay!”

Stephanie
smiled up at him. “You bet, honey.” She held up her arms. “I can take him from
here, Larry. Thanks for all your help.”

Larry
surrendered River and glanced around Stephanie’s campsite. Satisfied that
nothing appeared damaged, he took Frannie’s hand and they both waved goodnight
to River and his mom.

“That bed’s
going to feel good. Even better since the temperature has dropped quite a bit. I
think we can turn the air off and open the windows,” Larry said. The rest of
the group waited for them at their campsite.

“Well, Camp
Director, what fun surprises do you have planned for us tomorrow?” Rob grinned
at Larry.

“I think we
have boredom on the schedule,” Larry replied, slapping Rob lightly on the back
of the head. “And, complaints will not be tolerated.”

Stub was
coming toward them, a disturbed expression on his face—almost fear,
Frannie thought.

“Larry,
Randy isn’t here. We can’t find him.” Stub pulled a handkerchief out of his
pocket and mopped his forehead, even though it was the coolest it had been all
day.

Larry
sighed. Frannie knew he was tired, and tired of being expected to solve
everyone’s problems, even though he never complained about it. Just like people
expected teachers to also teach Sunday School, lead Cub Scouts, chaperone 4-H
trips, and everything involving leading kids, they expected even off-duty
policemen to find answers.

“Stub, you
have to let Agent Sanchez and the sheriff handle this. I have no official
standing and they don’t like me interfering.”