Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 03 - Trouble at Glacier (10 page)

I had discovered on my travels that it was common practice for RVers to study each other’s rigs as they strolled through campgrounds and parks.

“I don’t,” he said.

“Well,
I
do. I just stopped to admire the fireweed growing in front of your site. I haven’t seen any other fireweed in the campground except yours.”

“It’s not mine, but you’re welcome to look. Did you know the guy that was murdered?”

I stiffened. “I’d met him. Just that day, as it happens.”

“Used to be a ranger,” he said. “At Yellowstone.” I wondered where he had heard that information.

“Yes, I think he was.”

“I don’t have much use for law enforcement,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh?”
 

“Nah. I’ve spent a lot of time down at Yellowstone. Rangers were always running me off good camping spots. Fourteen-day limit.”

“I see.” I was just making noise at this point, acknowledging his comments.
 

He raised his head to look at the sun, and I froze. The movement had lifted his beard from his neck. Around his collar, I saw a necklace…of something that looked a lot like bear claws.

My knees wobbled.

Steady, Minerva. Steady. Do not faint! Not under this man’s eyes.

I’m okay, Ben,
I said silently.
Believe me. I’m not about to fall down at his feet and offer myself up as a victim.

“So, you travel around the national parks a lot?” I asked. I wanted him to tell me about the necklace.

He lowered his head and shrugged. “Some. I like the big parks, with all the wildlife.”

I didn’t hold back.

“You like bears, I think.” I nodded toward his neck.

He put a hand to his throat.

“This? Yeah, I bought it years ago when I used to do bear research. I thought it was ironic.”

“You did bear research?”

He snorted and half smiled, still unpleasantly.
 

“Yeah, I used to work for the government as a wildlife biologist, but I didn’t exactly agree with their ‘wildlife management practices,’ so I quit. I thought I’d be protecting wildlife, not expected to kill ‘em. I’d rather kill a human any day than kill a wolf or a bear.”

His comment was at once sad and frightening. He clearly cared about wildlife, but to the point of killing humans?

“A wildlife biologist, huh?” I prompted.

He narrowed his eyes when he looked at me.
 

“What? You don’t think I look like a biologist. Washington State University.”

“Oh, no! I didn’t say that.” But, of course, that’s what I was thinking.

“I just hang out now in parks and enjoy the animals, learn from them, watch them.”

“You heard there was a black bear in the area a couple of days ago, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, he came by sniffing out my place. Now that the rangers relocated him, I don’t guess we’ll be seeing him again for a while.”

“Oh, they relocated the bear? I hadn’t heard.” Of course, I had. I just wanted to see what he would say.

“Sure! That’s what they do when one becomes a nuisance, or in this case, when they have to figure out if he attacked someone.”

“I see,” I said.

“Probably would have been poetic justice if the bear had killed that guy, right?”

“What?” I gasped.

“Well, as Rick told me the other day, he was responsible for his wife’s death.”

I grimaced. “Yes, he told me that too.”

“Stupid mistake. Cost the woman her life.”

I said nothing. I had no idea what to make of this guy. None whatsoever, but I knew I’d rather not stand here talking to him.
 

“Well, I’ve gotta go,” I said. “It was good talking to you.” I started to walk away.

“Did you find out what you wanted?”

I turned around.
 

“What?” I asked.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You think I might have killed this guy cuz I look sort of homeless.”

Chapter Seven

I sputtered and coughed.

“No, I don’t think any such thing.”
 

“Sure ya do. Blame it on the homeless guy. He probably did it.”

“I don’t think that at all. Besides, this is none of my business. I’m not the police.” I turned to leave.

“No, you’re not, so don’t come butting into my business again!” he called out behind my back.

I hurried away, humiliated, stress out, and confused.

“Ben, what do you think?” I asked the air.

I think you might not have been as subtle as you had hoped. I also think he is not a very pleasant man. I do not know if he is the murderer though.

“But the bear claw necklace! Some of his comments.” My cheeks burned. “I’m still trying to get over the embarrassment of being caught doing exactly what he said I was doing.”

I understand, Minerva. This sleuthing business does require that you put yourself forward where you might not otherwise.

“He was right, though. I did pick him because he looked derelict.”

Yes.

“I might not have asked some tanned, toned, athletic, cross-country bicycle-riding tent camper on another site.”

No.

“Stereotypes. I’m not proud,” I said.

If the man wishes people to think well of him, he could at least bathe and clean his clothing. He had a respected job in science. He could have done something else rather than give up and live as an unkempt hermit.

“Maybe,” I said. “So, you don’t have a feeling for whether he might be involved?”

I do not.

“Me either,” I said as I rounded the corner.

I neared the campground host’s RV and hoped to scoot by it unnoticed, but failed.

“Morning,” Rick said. “Out for a walk?” He seemed less angry this morning.

I nodded.

“Have you heard anything?” I asked. “Did they find John’s killer?”

His eyes narrowed, and he put his hands on his hips.
 

“Nope, not yet.” He pursed his lips. I couldn’t really read anything from his expression.

“So, he could still be in the campground somewhere.”

Rick nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. I can’t tell you not to worry about it, but as long as you don’t walk alone at night, you should be okay.”

“Have you talked to the rangers lately? Do they have any suspects?”

“Not sure they would tell me if they had,” he said tersely.

“I heard that you and Jackson were good friends.” Why not stir the pot, I thought?

“Did Jackson tell you that?”
 

I didn’t actually answer, and Rick continued.

“Yeah, Jackson was very fond of my wife. Loved her cooking. Came over to eat with us a lot. It’s not easy being a single guy working for the Park Service. Jobs are kind of remote for the most part. The parks aren’t always located near cities where one can meet girls.”

I was dying to ask about Jackson and Amanda, but I opted not to. It really wasn’t my place. Not that all this snooping was appropriate either, but I couldn’t resist.

“I can only imagine,” I murmured.
 

I noticed his grill was smoking.

“Oh, are you getting ready to grill some food?”

“No, I just finished a roast. I had to learn to cook when Marsha passed away.”

I nodded. I had another flash of inspired sleuthing.

“Hey, I was wondering! I’m a bit of a cook, and I was looking for a tool to toss salad. Amanda showed me this short of shredder kind of tool, but I didn’t get the name of it. I hate to bother her at this time. Do you know what I’m talking about? You hold it in your hands like this?”

Rick’s eyes narrowed again.
 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

“What?” I asked. My face reddened.

“I know what you’re looking for. You’re looking for the murder weapon. If it wasn’t a bear, it had to be something similar to claws. Like a meat shredder, right? I have one if that’s what you wanted to know.”

What could I say? I was having a bad sleuthing day.

You have not been particularly patient or subtle today, Minerva, that is true. You may have pressed too hard.

I grinned sheepishly.

“I’m not insinuating that
you
killed John, Rick.”

“You’re not? Well, I’d be well within my rights if I had.”

I hated to argue this, but no, Rick would not have been within his rights to kill John.

“Listen, I’m not sure what you think you’re doing, but why don’t you leave investigating to the police?” Rick turned as if to walk into his RV.

I wanted to call out something, to soothe ruffled feathers, but I didn’t know what to say.

He paused at the top of the step and turned.

“And you know what? I’m going to go shred my roast with my meat claws. What do you think about that?”

He slammed the door, and I turned and hurried away.

“Ben! Ben! What did I do? I was way too heavy-handed with that!”

I feel your humiliation, Minerva, but I have to agree that you were heavy-handed, as you say. I think you need to learn patience and choose your opportunities more wisely.

“I know, I know,” I muttered with my head down. “I just wanted to get to the bottom of this.”

I understand, my dear. I wish that the crime were solved soon as well so that you and I may enjoy this wonderful wilderness. I know it weighs heavy on you.

“Well, seeing John like that,” I said with a grimace. “I just get can’t get it out of my mind. If they’d just arrest someone, then I’d know who it was, and maybe I could let the thing go. Not to mention, I’d feel safe walking around the campground.”

I reached my RV and stomped inside—embarrassed and angry with myself, angry with the world.

“At this point, I don’t think a single person is going to talk to me now,” I pouted. “How am I going to find out what’s going on?”

All is not lost. Ranger Schwin approaches.

“Really?” I asked. I jumped up just as he knocked on the door. Ben’s ability to see people outside my door was very handy.

I opened the door.

“Hello, Miss Crockwell. Jason Schwin again. We need to get a statement from you. I realized we didn’t get one from you the other night, and we need to have one on file. Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I said. I stood back and allowed him to enter.

He took off his hat as he entered the room. Alone with me in my RV, he seemed a little hesitant, almost shy. I indicated a seat on the dinette, and he slid into the booth. I sat across from him.

“I’m not sure why we forgot the statement. It was a hectic night.”
 

I had briefly wondered about that, knowing by now that as the first to find the body, they needed a statement.

He slid a form toward me.
 

“Here you go. Just write down what you remember.”

“My memories are pretty awful. I don’t need to describe the gory details, right?”

“No, just what happened. I heard the black bear stopped by your campground right before it happened. If you could add that, too.”

I nodded and wrote out the events of the evening.
 

Jason read it over.

“I heard the bear was relocated?”

“Yeah, to another part of the park. He’s okay, Miss Crockwell.”
 

“Oh, good!” I said. “Call me Minnie.”

“Yes, ma’am. Minnie.”

Jason’s cheeks bronzed, as if he were embarrassed when he spoke to me. He cleared his throat.
 

“Is there anything else you remember, or anything that’s happened since then?”

I shook my head. What could I say? I wasn’t about to make all sorts of innuendos to the authorities. It was bad enough I’d made them to the people involved.

“No, not really.”

“Not really?” Shy though he was, Jason was sharp. Bright blue eyes regarded me.

“No. Do you have any suspects yet?” I asked.

“No one, and everyone,” he said with a half smile. He really was one of those men that no one ever notices until they look into his eyes. Sincere, honest and trustworthy, I wondered if I could get him to escort me around the park for the rest of the week while the killer was on the loose. I trusted him instinctively.

“It’s kind of nerve-wracking around here, not knowing if a killer is wandering around,” I said.

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I can imagine. We thought about closing the campground, but if the killer is still here, he’d probably just move to another campground. We can’t close the whole park because of this.”

“I understand.”