Bats and Bones (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries) (6 page)

“Actually,
they don’t get paid at all in most of the state and county parks,” Larry said.
“They get free camping and that’s it. Most of the hosts are pretty low profile
but we’ve had some great ones.”

“We were at
a small county park once where there weren’t very many campers and the hosts
cooked us a prime rib in cast iron over the coals. It was fabulous! Remember
that place?” Mickey looked at the others.

“That was
some meal,” Frannie said. “The guy loved cast iron cooking and did it just for
the fun of it. He completely covered the meat in rock salt and it was
wonderful. We provided the rest of the meal.”

“Really? A
prime rib?” Stub said.

“Actually,
the hosts are supposed to just handle the reservations and answer questions
about the park and local attractions. In reality, they can get stuck with
cleaning up messes and other problems,” Jane Ann added.

Stub heaved
himself up from the table. “Well, I’d better go help unpack some stuff. We
didn’t get most of it out since we were just going to be here overnight. Have
to scare up something to fix for supper tonight. Probably won’t be getting any
prime rib here tonight and I don’t supposed we’ll be able to get pizza
delivered. What do you guys do for fun anyway, I mean if you can’t go
anywhere?”

“We’ve
never had a situation like this before,” Mickey said. “But we always have cards
and games, plus we all like to read. TV reception often isn’t very good in
state parks. No cable and all the trees. If you need cards, you’re welcome to
borrow some.”

Stub
thanked them and said goodbye, lumbering back across the road.

As they
began pulling out the makings for lunch, a car pulled over and Frannie
recognized the funeral director and his assistant. She walked over and the
assistant rolled down his window. Ralph Bonnard leaned over from the driver’s
side.

“Dave
Schlumm’s daughter Jodi arrived a little while ago, so you won’t need to go
back.”

“I think we
saw her go by,” Frannie said. “How is Dave doing?”

Bonnard
shrugged. “Not much change. They were going to call his son next and I think
he’s worried about that—you know, it’s very hard to give the news to
family.”

“Will they
have services soon?”

“No, she
wanted to be cremated and have her ashes scattered here at the park. They’ll do
that and have a memorial service sometime later.” Frannie noticed that the
young assistant got a little smirk on his face before quickly covering it up.
He studied the campsite where Stub and his friends appeared to be discussing
the situation.

“Okay.
Thank you.” She backed away, baffled by the young man’s reaction, and watched
the car continue slowly down the road. She returned to the picnic table where
Larry, Donna, and Mickey were laying out sandwich makings and condiments along
with corn salad from the night before.

“What was
that about?” Larry asked.

“Oh, that
funeral director is just letting us know that Dave’s daughter was here and we
didn’t need to return.” She shook her head slightly. “That assistant, though,
really freaks me out—I would swear he was delighted at the prospect of
cremating Maeve Schlumm.”

“I think
someone’s letting their imagination go a little loosey goosey,” Larry said in a
singsong canter.

“Maybe he’s
a body snatcher,” Donna said.

Frannie
gave them both her most disgusted look. “Grow up, both of you,” she said.

Lunch was
light since they had been snacking on muffins and fruit all morning. Jane Ann
produced some of her famous oatmeal craisin cookies as dessert and reported
that while she was in their RV, their daughter Justine had called.

“She was
almost frantic,” she said, a little trace of pleasure escaping at her
daughter’s concern. “Their birth mother’s current husband—second, I
think—is a county dispatcher and relayed the news to them. She thought
they ought to drive over and ‘be with us.’ I assured them we are well
protected.”

Mickey
harrumphed and put his arm around her shoulders. “I can’t believe they would
question your safety.” She leaned her head against him, contented, and started
to respond, but he grinned and said, “I mean, Larry’s here.” She punched him
playfully in the gut.

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

Happy
Camper Tip #5

RVs,
trailers and fifth wheels generally don't have a lot of wall space, but you may
want to hang a picture or two without adding a heavy frame. You can use a
pre-cut mat for this purpose and leave it plain or paint it or cover it with
appropriate paper, such as birch bark wallpaper samples…gotten slowly over time
from your favorite home improvement store. If you tent camp, you might want to
consider a digital picture frame or forgo the décor.

Early Saturday Afternoon

After they
cleared lunch away, Donna took Larry’s advice and headed back to her camper for
a nap. Jane Ann, a closet artist, got out her sketchpad and settled in her camp
chair with a glass of iced tea. Larry tuned in a baseball game on his radio,
stretched out in a lounger, and promptly fell asleep. Frannie, Mickey and Rob
all opted for their books. The heat seemed to be suppressing all sound. Quiet
murmurs came from the sites around them and blended with the buzzing of
insects. Only the canopy of shade made the day bearable.

The only
activity was across the road as the Chicago guys pulled more coolers and boxes
from the RV storage compartments and piled them by their campsite. Occasionally
a family would stroll by, children kept close, on their way to the shower house
or other campsites. For Frannie, even though the death itself was a big shock,
the realization that such a threat could exist in a situation always perceived
before as benign was the most difficult concept to grasp.

The arrival
of the sheriff’s car broke into the illusory peacefulness. The sheriff’s
passenger was not Deputy Smith. A short, stocky, dark-haired man emerged from
the car and together they approached the Shoemakers and their fellow campers.
Larry woke with a start and tried to act like he hadn’t been asleep.

“Folks,
this is Warren Sanchez, an agent for the State Division of Criminal
Investigation. He would like to hear your story again and maybe ask a couple of
other questions.”

Sanchez wore
dress slacks and a polo shirt open at the neck. He frequently swiped his hair
back off his forehead, smiled easily, and shook hands all around. Iced water
and tea were offered and accepted. They all settled in the circle of chairs;
Donna’s absence was explained and excused.

Agent
Sanchez leaned forward in his chair, and keeping his voice low, said, “I’d like
to start with last night. I understand you witnessed several—what?
confrontations?—involving the victim. Did you know her previously?”

They all shook
their heads. Larry said, “We’ve camped here before but not this year and the
hosts often change.”

“Well, tell
me about these confrontations.”

Larry
described the difficulties Stub’s group had experienced and Maeve’s reaction.
The agent looked over at the campsite in question and the others followed suit.
Randy and another man sat on coolers, looking over their shoulders at them, not
happy. Stub stood holding a lawn chair and in serious discussion with another
of the group. Everyone on both sides quickly lowered their eyes or stared
elsewhere, embarrassed to be caught looking.

Rob then
explained his lighting and music setup, going into way more detail than anyone
wanted to hear. Agent Sanchez, however, sat patiently listening.

“Did you
argue with her?” he asked when Rob finished.

“No! Well,
I said I didn’t think it was quiet hours yet. Actually, I was going to turn it
down after my friends had a chance to adequately admire it.” Rob gave a sly
smile. “She said it was inappropriate at any time. Then she really got mad when
the guys next door defended me. She
really
didn’t like them.”

“Were there
any other incidents?”

“Those
bikers,” Mickey said.

Larry
explained. “We don’t know what happened between them, but we saw Mrs. Schlumm
head over that way after they passed and she didn’t look happy. The bikes were
noisy but it wasn’t 10:00 yet.”

“Okay,
we’ll be talking to them later. On your hike, did you meet anyone else on the
trail?”

They all
looked at each other and shook their heads. “It was still pretty early,” Mickey
said. “We wanted to beat the heat.”

“One other
question, did any of you see a box or container in the cave when you were
there—or remove anything like that?”

Again Larry
took the lead. “My sister and I were the only ones who went in the cave. There
wasn’t anything else that we noticed except a small flashlight.”

Agent
Sanchez said, “The sheriff found that and it appears to have belonged to Maeve
Schlumm. Only her fingerprints were on it.”

“How do you
know something else was there?” Frannie asked.

“Marks in
the dust show something was dragged across the floor of the cave and then left
near the boulders. Something rectangular with rounded corners.”

Frannie
thought a minute. “What about a cooler?”

“We thought
about that, but coolers have pretty deep curves on the corners. These were just
barely rounded—maybe even a cardboard box with the corners kind of bashed
in.”

Sheriff
Ingrham leaned forward and cleared his throat. “Have any of you seen the people
staying in that silver camper down the road?”

“They were
there last night—I think all evening,” Mickey said.

“I saw the
red pickup leave early this morning when I first came out. Maybe about 6:00,”
Frannie said. “I didn’t see who was in it and haven’t seen anyone around
since.”

“No one
else has either. Guess I’ll need to get contact information from Ranger
Phillips. How about the people next door? Have you seen a man around that
campsite?”

Jane Ann
said, “Just a little boy and I assume his mom. I don’t think we’ve seen anyone
else.” She looked at the others and they all shook their heads. “The boy,
River, was over here last night and mentioned his dad but we haven’t seen him.”

“They’re
separated,” the sheriff explained. “He’s got a long history of drug use and
dealing; the wife finally threw him out. ‘Course we have a roadblock up at the
park entrances but if you do see anyone new around there, let us know right
away.”

Agent
Sanchez rose to leave and the sheriff followed.

“Agent,
have they decided yet whether it was an accident or not?” Larry asked.

“Not
definitely. But we don’t believe it was an accident. We found a large rock down
by the stream with some blood on it. Most had washed off, but if it matches
Mrs. Schlumm, it’s unlikely that it rolled down to that particular spot.”

“I’m
surprised you’ve been able to keep this from the media,” Mickey said.

“Oh, we
haven’t,” the agent said. “We’re handling the situation at the entrances. Two
of the area TV stations have been here, as well as a couple of newspaper
reporters. I’m sure it’s on the Net by now, too.”

“Do you
have a time of death yet?”

“Apparently
around 2:00 a.m. And we don’t know yet why she was out there at that time.”

“My wife
might have some insight into that question,” Larry said, nodding at Frannie.
Agent Sanchez cocked his head at her.

Frannie
hesitated a few seconds; she’d had the impression that Larry didn’t like her
‘meddling.’ Now he urged her on.

“We spent a
little time with Mr. Schlumm waiting for his daughter to arrive. The sheriff
asked us to.” She looked to the sheriff for confirmation and he nodded. “I
found an open, empty aspirin bottle on the bathroom counter, and when I asked
Mr. Schlumm about it, he said his wife had been having pretty severe headaches
lately. She might have gone for more aspirin. I mean, I asked him if that was a
possibility and he said there’s an all-night convenience store nearby. So he
agreed she might have done that.”

The agent
addressed Sheriff Ingrham. “Did Schlumm tell you anything about that?”

The sheriff
shook his head. “He didn’t say much at all. I don’t put a lot of stock in what
Dave says. We’ve had a domestic disturbance call or two on him before.”

Larry was
trying to stay professional and not interfere, but without thinking he asked,
“You mean Dave abused his wife?”

“We’d
rather not get into that,” Agent Sanchez said, giving the sheriff a warning
glance. “For the time being, the park is still closed. We are in the process of
doing background checks on everyone here, although we have already verified Mr.
Shoemaker’s credentials since we may need to call on him more. In the meantime,
I urge you all to be careful. Stay where there’s people and don’t go out at
night alone.”

They all
stood around for a minute, lost in that sobering thought after the sheriff and
DCI agent left.

“Well!” Rob
said. “I guess he’s just trying to lighten the mood and help us enjoy our
weekend.”

“Sounds
like Maeve’s murderer might have been pretty close to home,” Jane Ann said.

“Right.”
Mickey rummaged his pockets.

“I have
your smokes and you don’t get them back,” Jane Ann told him.

“I don’t
know. His grief seemed pretty genuine,” Frannie said. “What did you think,
Larry?”

“It might
be genuine. It might be remorse. I’ve seen people react in a wide range of
ways, guilty or not. Maybe he’s even wondering if his wife was involved in
something he didn’t know about. There are lots of possibilities. The main thing
we need to remember is to be careful.”

“Yeah,
there’s more than one questionable character here this weekend. I like it
better when we don’t know anyone’s secrets in the campground,” Mickey said.

They all
returned to their chairs and tried to pick up where they left off.

Frannie
looked over Jane Ann’s shoulder at the pencil sketch she had been working on.
The Chicago boys’ rented RV was in the background, indistinct and incomplete,
while in the foreground was the jumble of coolers and equipment that had been
pulled out that day, drawn in great detail.

“Wow, Jane
Ann, I love the shading—you’ve really captured the shadows and light
around that site. Such interesting shapes, too.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty
pleased, but now they’ve moved everything. And the light has changed too.”

Frannie
looked across the road and saw that many of the coolers and boxes had indeed
been shifted around the campsite, some opened and contents pulled out.

“I can go
ask them to put them all back just like it was,” Frannie said.

“Right. I’m
sure they’d be delighted. They’ve loaded and unloaded that stuff more than we
do in a whole summer.” Jane Ann laughed.

Frannie
straightened up. “I’m in the mood for some totally pointless activity so I
think I’ll go take a shower. I skipped it this morning since we were going to
hike. Give me a few minutes today of feeling semi-clean.”

“Don’t go
home with any strangers,” Mickey said.

She climbed
the steps to the trailer and retrieved shower wash, shampoo, a hair brush and
some clean clothes and rolled them all into a towel. As she walked toward the
shower house, she observed the activity or lack thereof in the sites she
passed. River and his mother were at the table with sandwiches and cheese
curls. A small, older popup sat behind a battered blue pickup. A large thicket
of shrubs and trees separated their campsite from the next. There a retirement
age couple played cribbage at their picnic table. They waved and smiled and she
waved and smiled back. On the other side of the road was a playground with a
sand surface and basic equipment. Several younger children played there, all
under the watchful eye of hot, tired-looking adults.

The
playground and the shower house were situated on her right on the outside curve
of a bend in the road. The bikers had the first campsite on the left after the
curve and Agent Sanchez was talking to the two couples. The sheriff stood at
the next site with another family, two young children clinging to their
parents’ legs and hiding their faces from the man in uniform. An older boy
performed gymnastics on his skateboard right in front of the site, staying in
earshot. Campers in sites on down the road stood or sat watching the
questioning, waiting their turns under the spotlight of authority.

Dave
Schlumm’s camper, on the other side of the shower house, was all closed up with
the air conditioner on top bravely and loudly trying to beat the heat.

When
Frannie entered the women’s side of the shower house, it appeared to be empty.
Not a popular time of day for showers. She chose the cleanest looking stall and
put her flip-flops on the slatted wooden bench. In these older facilities,
sometimes the biggest challenge was to keep your fresh clothes and towel dry.
One wall hook offered the only other perch for such items besides the bench.
The shower itself consisted of a very small nozzle operated by a chain, which
had to be held down with one hand to keep the water flowing. It worked
adequately as long as you remembered to open your shower wash and shampoo
before you started.

After
finishing, she dressed and tried to keep her clothes out of the water on the
floor. The outside door opened and someone came in. She felt a brief moment of
panic, but soon after heard water running in the sink, the footsteps receding
and the door shutting again. She let out a breath she didn’t even realize she
was holding.

She
sometimes used the hand dryer to dry her hair but the hot air didn’t have much
appeal today and she admitted to herself that she was anxious to get back out
in the open. She took her bundle, exited the building, and sat on a wooden
bench by the back corner of the building in the shade. She had a view of the
playground and could brush some of the dampness out of her hair. In the peaceful
setting, performing a simple, repetitive task, she could almost forget the
questions and turmoil disrupting this weekend.