Bats and Bones (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries) (9 page)

Ranger
Phillips stepped forward. He was pretty comfortable in front of a group of kids
with a snake or a turtle in his hands but this was new territory, and at first
his voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat and started over.

“Folks,
this weekend the weather is going to throw us an added curve. There’s a front
moving through which will bring relief from this heat but we may have a rough
night ahead of us. This area is under a tornado watch until about 3:00 a.m.”
Some nodded, like Mickey, who had probably been glued to their weather radios,
but the rest fidgeted and commented to companions in alarm. “This is Ranger
Sharon Sommers, from nearby Bella Vista State Park, who has come to help us out
this evening because we’re short-handed.” He motioned the DNR woman forward,
who held up a hand in greeting. Ranger Phillips continued. “We will be
monitoring the situation throughout the watch period. If we get an actual
warning, we will come through the campground using a loudspeaker to ask you all
to move as quickly as possible to the shower house, which is our tornado
shelter. How many of you have weather radios or apps for your phones?” About
twenty people, including Mickey and Larry raised their hands. “Keep those tuned
and where you can hear them. Unfortunately, if anything does happen, it will
most likely be middle of the night. Please keep everything you need, shoes and
so forth, handy and be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

Ranger
Sommers then spoke up. Her voice was high and clear. “Before you go to bed, put
lawn chairs and all loose items in your tents or under your RVs. Above all,
take down your awnings. Not only can they be damaged, which as you know is
expensive, but more importantly, in high winds they can act as a lift device,
causing your RV to rock or tip.” She held up one hand, palm down, demonstrating
the lift of the wind. Frannie and Larry looked at each other with wry smiles,
remembering just such an event several years before. They had been out in a
sudden storm in the middle of the night, trying to stow their awning but too
late to save it.

“It will be
crowded in the shower house, if that becomes necessary,” said Ranger Phillips.
“We will really need everyone’s cooperation. Are there any questions?”

A man near
the front held up his hand. The ranger nodded at him. “If a warning comes,
can’t we just get in our vehicles and leave the park?”

“That’s not
advisable. There won’t be time. The shower house is cement block and will be
much safer than your car.” He looked around but no one else spoke. He nodded
then toward Warren Sanchez.

The agent
stepped forward. “This is not what we all need, right? But it is what it is and
we need to remember we are all in this together. Now, as you know, the
campground host, Maeve Schlumm, died early this morning. At this time, we
believe she was murdered. We have closed the park, and ask that none of you
leave. Most of you planned to stay until Monday anyway. By then, we see no
reason that you will be detained here any longer. We will have completed
background checks by then and perhaps even know what happened. Until our
investigation is complete, it is important that you stay together in groups and
stay safe. We are confident that there is no threat to anyone if you do that.
We have one question. Has anyone seen the people who have the Airstream in site
#12 today?”

People
looked at each other and shrugged or shook their heads.

“We urge
you again to come to one of us if you have seen or heard anything unusual since
you have been here. Are there any questions?”

Surprisingly,
there were none and gradually the group dispersed with a growing din of alarmed
conversation.

Larry,
Frannie and Jane Ann lingered until the shelter had cleared and then walked up
to the agent. Jane Ann clutched her sketchpad. Agent Sanchez watched them
approach with raised eyebrows and a slightly skeptical look on his face. He’s
getting a little perturbed with us playing amateur Dick Tracy, Frannie
realized.

“Mr.
Shoemaker. Did you have a question?”

“Not
exactly. But we may have some more information that could be helpful.”

Agent
Sanchez folded his arms. “Go on.”

“This is in
reference to the box you are looking for that might have been in the cave.” He
explained about Jane Ann’s sketch and the nature of older coolers. Jane Ann
showed him the sketch and pointed out the shape in question.

“Well, I
wish it was a photo rather than a drawing,” Sanchez said dismissively. “But
we’ll check it out. If it’s there, it shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“But that’s
just it,” Frannie said. She stuck her hands in her back pockets. “It may not be
there anymore.” She described seeing Randy go into the woods with the GPS and
what might have been the cooler, and returning later with nothing but the GPS.

The agent
scratched his head. “We’ll talk to him. But it could be perfectly innocent.
Doesn’t seem like he would hide something illegal in broad daylight. Isn’t
there some game people play with a GPS—hiding things for others to find?”

Larry
nodded. “Geocaching. And that could be the explanation. We just thought we
should tell you.”

“Sure,
you’re right to do that. As I said, we will check it out. Thank you.” Frannie
wondered at his sincerity, but they said goodbye, and walked back to the
campsite.

“What do
you think, Larry?” Jane Ann said when they were a short distance from the
shelter. “I don’t think he’s taking us very seriously.”

“Maybe
not,” Larry said. “I think he’s starting to see us as the Hardy boys. But we’ve
done all we can do.”

“Maybe we
could find out somehow if they still have that cooler,” Frannie said.

Larry
looked at her sideways. “Okay, okay. I’ll be good, officer,” she held up her
hands in surrender.

“I’ll
believe that when I see it.”

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

Happy
Camper Tip #8

Many
campers share Frannie and Larry's memory of a bad night with their awning.
Awnings provide excellent shade and shelter from a gentle rain; most are large
enough to drag a picnic table under. They also give campers a place to hang
their really cute outdoor lights. But in high winds, they can act as a sail or
be ripped from the camper, causing expensive repairs. An ounce of prevention,
etc.

 
Saturday
Evening

When they
got back to the campsite, River’s mother sat visiting with Donna while River
rolled on the ground with Bugger.

His mother
seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing.

“River! Get
up off the ground. You’ll have to take a shower!” She said it in the same tone
she might say, ‘You’re going to have to sit in your closet for a week.’
Apparently it worked, because River sat up in alarm. He jumped to his feet and
brushed his clothes with amazing vigor. It was the fastest Frannie had seen
anyone move all day. He then bent over to continue scratching Bugger’s ears.

Donna
introduced them. “This is River’s mom, Stephanie. Frannie and Larry Shoemaker
and Mickey’s wife, Jane Ann.”

Frannie
laughed. “He sure enjoys Bugger. He said his dad was going to get him a dog
like that.”

Stephanie
made a snorting sound. “I’d be thrilled if his dad even bought him milk and
cereal.”

River
snapped his head up. “I’d rather have a
dog
than milk and cereal, Mom!”

Frannie and
Donna stifled laughter while Stephanie actually guffawed. Jane Ann had gone in
her camper for iced tea. “Anyone else want some? There’s not a breath of air
moving. Sure feels like a storm coming.”

Frannie and
Donna declined but Stephanie said, “I would love some. I’m worried about this
storm—have you seen my little camper? A 20-mile-an-hour wind could take
it.”

“Do you
pull the camper yourself?” Frannie asked her.

“I do now.
River loves camping and when his dad left, I decided I’d better learn. My
brother taught me to park it in an empty parking lot.” She giggled. “It wasn’t
pretty but I can do it. We usually just camp here—only live about twenty
miles away.”

“That must
be hard, raising River by yourself. Does he ever see his dad?” Jane Ann asked.

Stephanie
sighed. “Not often. Trey—his dad—is usually too strung out. I never
know what he’ll do. He has a terrible temper. But when he’s straight, he’s a
totally different person and that’s what River remembers.” She turned to
Frannie. “Your husband is a cop?”

“Retired,”
Frannie said. “And it was small town force, so most of his job was pretty
routine.”

“But it
makes me feel better, having him next door, in case Trey shows up.”

“They have
the park closed, though. No one is allowed in except the authorities.”

Another
sigh. “I don’t think that would stop Trey. Do you mind if I sit here for a
while? It’s kind of lonely with just the two of us and after the murder, I
couldn’t let River out of my sight.”

“Of course,”
Donna said. “Our schedule’s pretty light this evening.”

Stephanie
smiled her thanks, acknowledging that no one in the campground had many
options. Meanwhile, Cuba finally realized she was missing out on some heavy
petting of the canine kind, and ambled over to River, pushing her formidable
nose under the hand he was using to scratch Bugger. He giggled at such
persistent attention and arranged himself so he could scratch both dogs. After
a few minutes, he abandoned them to come lean over the arm of his mom’s chair.

“Mom? What
did that policeman mean about a tornado?”

“Just that
there might be one in the area tonight, and if they think so, we will all go to
the shower house where we will be safe,” she said.

“But what
about our camper? And Bugger and Cuba?” He seemed close to tears at this idea.

“Bugger and
Cuba will go with us,” Frannie said.

“And we’ll
hope everybody’s campers will be safe. But the important thing is that
we
will all be safe,” Stephanie added.

“It looks
like the storm is going to stay south of us,” Mickey said, holding up his smart
phone so River could see the screen. River let go of his grip on his mom’s arm
to get a closer look at the radar image. Mickey began a detailed explanation of
where they were located on the screen, what the colors meant, and which way the
storm was moving.

“He knows a
lot about that,” Stephanie said.

“He’s a fanatic and usually drives us all nuts. But
tonight it could be handy,” Jane Ann said.

“River is
such an unusual name,” Frannie said. “How’d you come up with that?”

Stephanie
gave a wry smile. “Trey wanted to call him ‘Mississippi.’ Can you imagine? I
squelched that by telling him the nickname would end up being ‘Missy.’ Trey
always fancied himself a modern day Tom Sawyer so we compromised on River.”

“It’s cool,”
Donna said. “It struck me as odd at first but I really like it.”

The
sheriff’s car pulled up next to Stub’s campsite and Sheriff Ingrham, Agent
Sanchez and Deputy Smith got out. Stub, Randy, and their friends were in the
process of putting all the coolers, boxes, and lawn chairs back in the storage
compartments in preparation for the night’s weather. They all straightened up
as the law officers approached. Ingrham and Sanchez were there to search and
gave the directive. Stub’s face turned redder than it already was from exertion
and he ran his hands over his thinning hair. His gestures indicated what
Frannie assumed was a righteous protest over unloading the compartments for the
second time that day and then loading them back up again.

“I think
Stub would rather be in the worst fleabag motel around right now than in this
campground,” she said as the others watched the scene unfold.

“No doubt,”
Rob agreed.

“What’s
going on?” Stephanie asked.

“Looks like
they’re conducting a search,” Larry said, giving Frannie a direct look that
said no other information was necessary.

“Stephanie,
we’re going to have some apple cobbler and ice cream,” Jane Ann said. “Please
join us; Mickey always makes enough for an army.”

“Oh, that
sounds great. Are you sure you have enough?”

“Believe
me.” Jane Ann headed to their camper.

“I’ll
help,” Donna said.

They soon
returned with a large pan of cobbler, ice cream, bowls and spoons. Mickey and
River still had their heads together over the small screen on Mickey’s phone.

“Oh-oh,
River,” Mickey said. “I think we have a
dessert
warning.”

River
straightened up. “What’s a dessert warn…?” but his eyes followed Mickey’s
pointing finger to the picnic table.

“Mom! Can I
have some?”

Stephanie
smiled and nodded. They all gathered around the fragrant pan and Donna handed
out heaping bowls.

As she
savored the warm cinnamony apples and crust complemented by the cool creamy ice
cream, Frannie kept sneaking glances at the scene across the road. Angry
grumblings from Stub’s friends accompanied the officers as they efficiently
pulled out, checked, and stacked the coolers and boxes around the campsite.
Sanchez questioned Randy at length; then they left the stacks for the Chicago
men to return to the storage compartments and went inside. Stub appeared to be
questioning Randy in turn while Sanchez and Ingrham were inside, but Randy just
shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, palms up.

Larry and
Rob cleared the dessert things while discussing their respective golf games and
Mickey and River went back to watching the radar screen.

Sanchez and
Ingrham finally emerged from the motorhome empty-handed, spoke briefly to Stub,
shook hands, and got in the sheriff’s car. Neither man looked over at the
Shoemakers and their friends, almost as if they wanted to discourage any
further ‘tips.’ It seemed to Frannie that their earlier plea for information
meant anyone but her group. She was sure Randy had hidden the old cooler in the
woods, but wondered why Sanchez didn’t appear to have found the GPS either.
Randy must have stashed that also.

The patrol
car had no sooner pulled slowly away than the two rangers appeared walking
along the road, stopping here and there to reassure campers.

As they
passed, Ranger Sommers asked if they needed any help tuning a weather radio.
Larry shook his head and Mickey held up his smart phone.

Ranger
Phillips said to Mickey, “Do you have that set to send you a message in case of
a warning?”

“Yes, sir,
I do.”

“Good.
We’ll keep our fingers crossed that this passes us by but we want everyone prepared.
Be sure and get as much put away as possible,” he reminded them. And to Rob,
“Especially those lights, if you want to keep them.”

Over the
last half-hour, dusk had arrived with an eerie yellow glow. The stillness and
humidity seemed heavier even than it had all day. Around the campground, people
packed up games, cards, books, and magazines. Lawn chairs took refuge under
campers and tablecloths returned to cupboards inside. Lanterns and flashlights
were placed inside within easy reach. Rob returned to his trailer to perform
his lighting operations from the night before in reverse, unplugging,
disassembling, coiling and storing.

Many
planned to sleep in their clothes or not at all. Others scoffed and declared no
storm was going to ‘rob me of my beauty sleep.’ Mostly false bravado.
Stephanie, who had gone to secure her own campsite, returned to ask if Larry or
Mickey got any early warning to please let her know. They assured her they
would make sure she and River headed to the shower house when they did.

With
everything, except for a couple of chairs, as safely stowed as circumstances
permitted, they perched on or sat at the picnic table as the darkness deepened.
No stars twinkled above them. Mickey gave continued reports from his tiny radar
screen. The storm still appeared that it would pass south of them but it also
seemed to be expanding.

Stub
wandered over, beer in hand.

“Are you
guys crazy?” he asked, shaking his head. “You do this all the time and
enjoy
it? If we make it back to Chicago,
we’re going to forfeit what we’ve paid for that thing and find a nice motel
somewhere.”

Mickey
laughed. “It really isn’t usually like this. I mean, we’ve been through storm
warnings before but I can’t say that we’ve ever had a murder nearby before or
been confined to the park.” He looked at the others for confirmation as if
something so trivial might just have slipped his mind.

“There have
been some close calls when Jane Ann finds your stash of smokes,” Larry said,
straight-faced.

It was
Stub’s turn to laugh. “Whatever. I don’t think it’s the life for us. And that
secret agent guy seems to think Randy is somehow involved. I mean, Randy’s a
grouch, and got a lot on his mind right now, but he’s no murderer.”

“Well,
you’ll have good stories to tell for years to come,” Rob said.

“You guys
have one of those weather radios?” Stub turned serious.

“I do,”
Larry said, “and Mickey has an app on his phone to get weather warnings.”

“I can see
where you’d need that if you did this a lot. Makes me pretty nervous. We had a
tornado in the town I grew up in and you never forget that feeling—the
pressure and all,” Stub ran the heel of his hand across his forehead. “That was
in the daytime when you could see it coming. I really don’t like this middle of
the night business.”

“This kind
of weather is nothing to fool with,” Larry said. “But the rangers and sheriff
are monitoring it closely and we should be safe enough in the shower house.”

Cuba ambled
over and rubbed against Larry’s leg.

“Looks like
someone’s ready for another walk,” Frannie said. At the magic word, Cuba’s ears
sprang up, almost erect.

Larry
agreed. “Better get it done before it starts thundering. We won’t be able to
peel her out of the camper.”

“I guess
I’d better go see what new complaints my buddies have,” Stub said.

Donna and
Larry hooked up walking leashes to the eager pets and Rob and Frannie joined
them for a stroll around the campground. Mickey and Jane Ann volunteered to
guard the campsite.

“Right!”
Rob laughed. “There’s nothing left that isn’t tied down.”

Mickey
shrugged and leaned back in his lounger. “Sure, make fun. But we will be on
alert protecting your butt and all you own.”

“What a
relief,” Frannie said.

Stephanie
sat at her bare picnic table with her book. River spotted them and pleaded,
“Can I come with you?”

“Sure, it’s
just a lap to the end of the road and back,” Larry said to his mother. This
time, Stephanie approved. River offered to take Bugger’s leash from Donna and
she readily surrendered it.

Progress
was slow as Bugger pulled River back and forth across the road investigating
the wonderful smells that he found. The two couples stopped and visited a few
minutes with Richard and Elaine, who introduced their fellow travelers. As they
moved on, they waved or nodded at couples and families in each campsite. The
scent of grilled meat still hung in the air through the campground, there being
no breeze to remove it. Most of the campers had done their packing up and
battening down, so people appeared at loose ends with little to do but wait for
whatever the night would bring.