Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 03 - Trouble at Glacier (3 page)

I nodded. “Thank you. I will.”

He nodded a farewell and drove slowly away.
 

And now we have the handsome and charming Ranger Jackson,
Ben said in an unusually acerbic tone.
 

“I can’t help it if I like men in uniform, Ben. I just do. If you were standing in front of me in your Army uniform, I’d be salivating too.”

As I had hoped, Ben coughed and cleared his throat.

Yes, well…
He didn’t finish his sentence, and I knew that I’d embarrassed him.

“Hah! Gotcha, Ben!”

Just then the small park ranger cruiser that I had seen turn down another loop pulled up beside me. A thirty-something man in a park uniform spoke. His nametag read “Schwin.”

“Just want to warn you that there’s a black bear wandering the campground. Keep an eye out. You’ll be fine. He’s getting to be a regular this summer. If you see him while you’re out though, let us know or tell the campground host.”

“Okay, sure,” I said. “The other ranger stopped and told me.”

“Oh, Jackson? Okay, good.” He nodded in a professional manner. “Have a nice day,” he said as he drove off.

“Well, I feel safe with all these rangers around, but I’ll be lucky to see a bear if they have anything to say about it.” I was afraid the presence of so many rangers would scare any bears away.
 

“I’m going to head for the lake,” I said. “Maybe we’ll see the bear along the way.” I took off onto the path Jackson had indicated, and followed it for ten minutes until emerging from the trees to see the lake.

I stopped short with a gasp. The view was indescribably beautiful. A wide expanse of serene blue-gray water mirrored the white-capped mountains surrounding the far side of the lake.
 

What a magnificent view,
Ben breathed near my ear. If I could have leaned back against him to gaze at the scene, I would have.
 

“It is,” I murmured. I noted a wooden bench nearby and stepped lightly across the rounded pebble beach to take a seat.
 

A few small boats dotted the surface of the lake. Several wooden docks jutted out from the shore. Various types of watercraft, from motorized boats to canoes, were tied to the docks. From my vantage point, I could see what looked like a rustic lodge farther down the shore to the left.

Ben and I admired the sight without further words for some time. I took pictures, lots and lots of pictures, sometimes of the same view. Just to be sure.

Thank you for bringing me here, Minerva. The scenery is quite stunning.

I sighed. “Thank you for sharing it with me, Ben.”

It is my pleasure.

I looked down at my watch and jumped up. It was now almost seven o’clock, and I had not paid for my campsite but instead had merrily traipsed away in search of bears and lakes.

“Ben! I forgot to pay for my campsite! I have to run back to the campground.”

Let us make haste!
he said.

I jumped up and took off on a trot. Since I jogged when I had the chance, the short jaunt back to the campground hardly winded me. I’d forgotten about looking for the bear. Once back at the fee collection station, I filled out a camping fee envelope and stuck some cash into it before slipping it into the appropriate slotted window.
 

“I’d better get back and stick my receipt in the window before the campground host checks.”

I hurried toward my RV and stopped short when I saw a man and a woman knocking on the door.

“Can I help you?” I asked as I approached. Since they were not dressed in any sort of park uniform, I deduced that they weren’t here to check for my receipt.

The woman, a short, petite redhead turned to me with a startled look that turned into an embarrassed smile.
 

“Oh, hi there! Is this yours?” She nodded toward the RV.

Her companion, a blond man of medium height and stocky build, regarded me with narrow eyes.
 

“Yes, can I help you with something?” I asked again.
 

The redhead laughed and bounced her shoulder-length curly hair.
 

“I’m sorry. We thought this was my uncle’s RV. He was supposed to arrive here today, and he said his RV was black, gold and maroon. Just like yours. He lives in Washington State, and you have Washington plates, so I thought this was his.”

She waited almost as if she thought I could produce her uncle.

I shook my head.

“No, this is mine,” I said. “Hopefully, he got a spot because the sign at the fee collection station said the campground was now full.”

The thirtyish woman stuck out her hand.

“I’m Amanda, and this is my husband, John. We’re in from Michigan.

I shook her hand.
 

John extended his hand, and I shook it as well. He seemed the more quiet of the two, less friendly even.
 

“Minnie Crockwell,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you. Are you camped here?” I looked around as if for an RV.

“Yes, we’re just next door to you here,” Amanda said. She pointed to the left. “I told my uncle that the space next to us was empty, but then you got here…” She left the words hanging, and guilt set in.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I wasn’t moving from my site, but that didn’t stop me from feeling guilty.

“Your uncle should have gotten here earlier if he wanted to camp next to us.” John spoke for the first time. His voice held a note of irritation.
 

“Oh, sure!” Amanda said hurriedly. “It’s first-come, first-served. Uncle Steve knew that.” She turned to me. “So, you didn’t see an RV that looks like yours, huh?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Well, I guess we’ll leave you alone. Did you hear about the bear?”

I didn’t know whether to say yes or no. Was there new information about the bear?

I tried a sideways nod. It wasn’t easy.

“Well, there’s a black bear foraging somewhere in the campground nearby, so keep your eyes open.”

“If you happen to stumble across him, don’t run,” John said. “They’re used to people. He probably won’t bother you. Just back away slowly. It’s not like it’s a grizzly.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at him.
 

“I used to work for the Park Service,” he said with a nonchalant shrug.
 

“Oh!” I said. “That must have been fun.”
 

“Hard work, but yeah, those were great days.” I wondered what job he’d done.

“And you don’t anymore?”

John bit his lower lip and looked away. Had I said something wrong?

Amanda rushed in.

“No, he doesn’t, not anymore.” She didn’t elaborate. “Well, we should be going. I’d better look for my uncle. See ya!”

She took John’s hand and they disappeared into the trees in the direction of their campsite. Through the leaves, I could barely make out what looked like a white fifth-wheel RV.

“Well, that was awkward,” I said. “I wonder where her uncle ended up. Now
I’m
tempted to look for him as well…or at least an RV that looks like mine.”

Minerva,
Ben said in a warning tone.
Did you not recently vow to put your sleuthing days behind you after the last incident at Sunny Lake? Does not searching out a stranger constitute some form of sleuthing?

“Well, what I said was ‘I’m done snooping around.’ I love the way you word it though, Ben. So much more eloquent than me.” I grinned and stepped inside my RV to put my receipt in the window. “However, I don’t think looking around the campground for an RV similar to mine constitutes ‘sleuthing,’ per se. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Ben snorted.

I quickly extended the slides before stepping outside.

“Besides,” I continued, “It’s not like I’m going to knock on the door and introduce myself.” I stepped out onto the quiet campground road. “Let’s go this way.” I pointed in the direction opposite that which we had traveled only a short while ago.
 

Prepared for a long early evening walk of scanning my fellow campers’ RVs, I stopped short when I saw the RV in the next space. Hidden from my RV by foliage and trees, it looked remarkably similar to mine. Although the same model and style, there were a few minor differences in the paint and trim.

“Well, look at that!” I exclaimed. “I’ll bet this is Amanda’s uncle. I wonder why he didn’t check in with her. If they’re looking for each other, they sure didn’t look very hard since they’re parked on either side of me!”

His vehicle does look very similar to yours. I did not see it there when we first arrived.

“I didn’t either. In fact, I distinctly remember that spot was empty. He must have pulled in after we left for the lake.” I shrugged. “Well, he’s probably still setting up. I’m sure he’ll find his niece when he’s good and ready.”

Just then, a quick movement in the thick trees across the road caught my eye. I swung around to look. The area was devoid of RVs, dedicated to wilderness. Something black moved.

“Ben! The bear! It’s the bear,” I hissed.
 

I grabbed my camera from my jeans pocket.

No, Minerva. It is not a bear. It is a man wearing a black shirt.

A man?
I asked silently.
 

He approaches. Have a care.

Why?
I asked Ben.

I half turned to trot back to my RV, when a short husky man emerged from the brush wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. He appeared to be middle aged, sandy reddish hair fading to white at the temples.

“Afternoon,” he said in a deep voice.

I paused, stuffing my camera back into my pocket.
 

“Hello,” I responded tentatively.
 

“I was just looking to see if I could spot a black bear,” he said. “There’s supposed to be one wandering around the campground here.”

I nodded, feeling foolish.
 

“I’ve been looking for him too,” I said with a sheepish grin.

Why did you warn me to have a care, Ben? He seems harmless.

I cannot say,
Ben said.
Perhaps I was too hasty. He seemed to attempt to conceal himself when I first saw him.

Hmmm
, I murmured.

“Well, I don’t see him out here.” The man stepped onto the road. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to see him later.”

He nodded politely and made his way toward the RV that Ben and I had been looking at.

I’ll bet that was the uncle, Ben,
I said silently.

Perhaps it was. I think in hindsight that he may have attempted to conceal his use of the woods for the needs of nature.

What? He has an RV and a bathroom right there!

I am not certain, Minerva!

I sighed. “Maybe I should go tell Amanda I think her uncle is here.” The man had disappeared, and I felt free to speak out loud.

I take it I cannot dissuade you from involving yourself in this matter?
Ben asked.

I turned in the direction of Amanda and John’s fifth wheel.

“What ‘matter’?” I said with a careless shrug. “I’m just trying to be nice, that’s all. Even if he does pee in the woods.”

Ben sighed heavily.

“This is
not
sleuthing, Ben. It’s just being neighborly.” Ben’s good opinion mattered to me, but I had a willful, independent streak that made me do things which I knew would distress or disappoint him.

I passed my RV and reached the door of the neighboring fifth wheel. An older model, the white paint had faded to a dingy white. I knocked on the door and waited, knowing Ben disapproved.

Ben! I have to make friends sometime. I can’t always talk to myself…and to you.

I understand, Minerva. Of course. I have a premonition about this, that is all.

No one answered the door. Maybe they’d gone down to the lake. I turned away.

What premonition?
I asked Ben silently.

I cannot say. Perhaps the events of the past few months have taken their toll on me as well.

I left the campsite and returned to my RV.

“Oh, I doubt that, Ben! You’ve been through far worse in your lifetime than the murder of two strangers.”

It is true. But my concern for your safety taxes me.

I smiled and looked up in the general direction of where I thought Ben might be.

“Thank you, Ben. I can’t say ‘don’t worry’ if you’re going to do it anyway, but thank you.”

I made myself a sandwich with plans of eating it outside on the picnic bench. Twilight settled on the park, and the sunny blue skies and green trees of the day now turned to soft blues and dark monochrome foliage.
 

I munched on my food in silence and listened to the sounds of the forest. In the distance, I could hear voices of other campers, but I couldn’t make out any distinct words. Just the general hum of campers making dinner and enjoying an evening outdoors.