Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 03 - Trouble at Glacier (12 page)

“Jackson!” Amanda repeated with a wide-eyed glance in my direction. “Don’t be silly,” she directed to me. “Jackson couldn’t hurt a fly. He wouldn’t have killed John. I could have gotten a divorce. Why would he have killed John?”

Jackson turned toward Amanda. “But you told me two years ago you wouldn’t divorce him.”

Amanda shook her head. “He changed. I didn’t want to live with him anymore. And I missed
you
.”

“But you told me you wouldn’t divorce him,” Jackson muttered again.
 

Jackson’s look of confusion evolved into one of anger. His eyes glittered. My heart sank. I had a feeling I knew what had happened to John…and why. Amanda reached for his hand, but he pulled it from her and reached for his weapon.

“Whoa!” Steve cried out.

Do not move, Minerva,
Ben said.
It is too late. Any sudden movement, and he may shoot you.

Jackson held his handgun high, pointing it alternatively at one of the three of us. I didn’t think he would shoot Amanda, but Steve and I were definitely in jeopardy.

“What are you doing?” Amanda screeched.
 

“Quiet!” Jackson said, pointing his pistol at her. “Quiet!”
 

“What are you doing, Jackson?” she cried out again. “Don’t do this!”

“It’s too late, Amanda. You said you wouldn’t divorce him.” It was as if Jackson couldn’t stop staying the same thing over and over.

“But I would have,” she said softly. “I would have. Please don’t tell me that you…”

Jackson nodded, his expression now bitter.
 

“Yes. I did it. For you, for Marsha. I did it. When I saw him again, with you, I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“How did you do it?” I couldn’t help asking though my instincts told me not to antagonize the man holding a gun on me.

“You did pretty well in figuring out what the weapon was, Minnie. That’s for sure. I overheard your conversation from the other side of the RV just now.” His charming wide grin was gone. “I used a meat shredder. I have one of my own…or I did before I dumped it into the lake. I didn’t know how common they were. I should have pinned the blame on ole Uncle Steve here since now I know he had one too.”

Steve shot daggers at him with his eyes. I trembled. How were we going to get out of this?

“I just had to wait for the right time, and when I saw John heading for the showers, I knew that was the right time,” Jackson said.

Amanda backed away from him, and he trained his gun on all of us, moving it back and forth.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to explain three deaths,” he said. “I don’t really want to shoot any of you.” He bared his teeth in an unpleasant smile. “Well, maybe you, Steve.”
 

Amanda gasped at his words.
 

My eyes were so focused on the end of the pistol that at first I didn’t see Rick Cannon rush Jackson from behind and tackle him. Jackson, taken by surprise, fired a round in the air that missed everyone. I threw myself to the ground, as did Amanda and Steve.

Jason Schwin ran onto the scene from behind my RV. He saw Jackson struggling with Rick, and he went for Rick.

“No!” I screamed. “It’s Jackson! Not Rick.”

Jason threw me a startled look, and let go of Rick. As Jackson was trying to rise, Jason put a knee in Jackson’s back pushing him to the ground. He pulled out his pistol and held it on Jackson, who stopped struggling.
 

Amanda grabbed her uncle and started crying.
 

I rose to my feet and stood uncertainly. Why I stood up was beyond me because my knees just about gave way.
 

Rick pushed himself to his feet gingerly as if he had hurt himself in the tackle. For an older, slender man, he had certainly taken Jackson down decisively.
 

Rick stood over Jackson as Jason spoke into his radio calling for backup.

“Why?” Rick asked “Why would you kill him? Nothing is that important. Nothing was worth ruining your life.”

Rick’s words were hard to hear over Amanda’s sobbing.

Jason handcuffed Jackson and pulled him to his feet.

“I don’t know,” Jackson said. “I wanted to be with Amanda, and I thought she wouldn’t divorce him. I’ve never forgiven him for Marsha. Never will. There was every reason to kill him, and none to let him live.”

“Oh, Jackson,” Rick said with a heavy sigh. He sank down on the picnic bench as if his own legs couldn’t hold him. “You don’t have Amanda now, and Marsha is still dead. What have you done?”

Chapter Eight

I peeked out of my RV door the next morning, not sure of what to expect. Murder? Mayhem? Dead bodies? A gun to my face?

But none of those presented themselves. Today was a new day. A light mist settled on the campground, and I suspected it would burn itself off.

I took my cup of coffee and moseyed out to the picnic bench to warm myself under the rays of sunshine that were breaking through the thick canopy of trees.
 

I lifted my face to the sun.

“I’m trying very hard not to think about Jackson, Ben,”
I said. “I’m just trying to be present to Glacier National Park and all her glory.”

Yes, my dear. That is an excellent plan. Put this affair behind you.

“I can’t help feeling sorry for Jackson. I mean…maybe not. Or maybe I do. I don’t know.”

Could it be that you find it hard to accept the handsome and dashing Ranger Jackson was a murderer? That a charming smile can hold such malice?

“Yes, I do find it hard to accept. He was actually likable. Well, at least before he held a gun on me. I don’t think he would have shot Amanda or me.”

Perhaps not
, Ben said,
but I for one am pleased that we will never know.

“I guess it didn’t matter that so many people were from Michigan,” I mused. “That was just a distraction. For some reason, I thought it was important. But I guess not, huh?”

It would seem to be mere coincidence.

Footsteps from behind startled me, and I jumped.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jason Schwin said. He looked drawn and tired as if he hadn’t slept. I suspected that he hadn’t. It wasn’t often that one had to arrest a colleague for murder.

“You’ll never guess what I need from you,” he said with a half smile. He looked almost too tired to be shy.

“A statement?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yup, if you wouldn’t mind.”

He sat down at the table.

“Do you want some coffee?” I asked. “You look beat.”

“I’d love some,” he said. “And yes, I’m tired. Very tired.”

I returned to the RV and brought him a cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry about Jackson,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate that. Most people will vilify him and maybe they should. Pretty violent way to kill a guy, but he was trying to fool us into thinking it was a bear attack. Pretty dumb idea if you ask me. He might as well have shot John.”

I looked at him with surprise.

He shook his head in shame.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Of course not. I just can’t wrap my head around Jackson killing anyone.”

“For love?” I asked.

“That’s not love,” Jason said with a vehement shake of his head.

My sentiments exactly,
Ben said.
That is not love, but obsession.

“You’re right,” I said.

I started filling out the statement.

“You seem to know a lot more about what was going on than you let on to me,” Jason said, though his tone was kind.

I looked up with a sheepish half smile and shrugged my shoulders.

“But it was just guesswork,” I said. “I thought at least five people could have killed John, including some poor tent camper on the other loop.”

“The former wildlife biologist,” Jason said with his own charming grin.

I nodded. “He caught me snooping though. So did Rick Cannon. I was running around here playing detective, and everyone figured me out.”

Jason nodded. “Well, you found out a lot before I did. I didn’t know anything until Rick called us to say he heard shouting over by your RV. I knew you traveled alone, and I was worried about you.”

I blushed at his sentiment.

“For the record, I don’t think Jackson would have shot you,” he said.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so either. If that helps anything.”

“It might. Might convince a jury that he’s not a raving lunatic.”

I quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, all right. He is crazy, I guess. Crazy to think he could take someone’s life because it suited him.”

I finished up my statement and handed it to Jason who finished up his coffee.

He rose.

“I guess I’d better get back to work. How long did you say you were going to be here?”

“Oh, at least a week. I might stay longer.”

He looked down at me, his jaw working. He blinked and cleared his throat.

“Well, I hope you do. Maybe I could take you over Going-to-the-Sun Road on my day off.”

“If you’re driving, I’m all for it,” I said with a smile.
 

Jason grinned and left.

Ah! The handsome and dashing Ranger Schwin!
Ben said as I knew he would.
It does not have as captivating a ring to it as others have.

“Oh, I think it does, Ben. His smile is pretty appealing.”

Yes, so you have thought on several occasions. Do be careful with this one. You have not had much success with park rangers.

“Ben! So
one
park ranger happened to be a murderer!” I couldn’t force a smile to accompany my attempt at banter. Jackson’s future in prison just didn’t seem funny to me. It probably never would.
 

I understand, dearest. It is much better when no one particularly likes the killer. But the world is not always black and white, and men are not always completely good or evil.
 

“I know, Ben. I know.”

Ben sighed with me.
 

“Where do you want to go next, Ben?”

Indian summer is upon us, dear. The days grow shorter and the nights grow cool. To which destinations will your fellow campers journey? Not further north, I think, not at this time of year. East? South?
 

“I have no idea, Ben. Let’s go look at a map!”

Other Stories by Minnie Crockwell

Will Travel for Trouble Series

Trouble at Happy Trails (Book 1)

 
Trouble at Sunny Lake (Book 2)

About the Author

Minnie Crockwell lives, travels and writes full time in a Class A recreational vehicle. Although she owns a house in Washington State, she enjoys the adventure of living in other states that the RVing life gives her the freedom to do. She enjoys hearing from readers. You can contact her at
 
[email protected]