Peete and Repeat (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries Book 3) (18 page)

She sat on a rock outcropping facing the door to rest a moment. If the killer wanted to get rid of the camera bag, the easiest thing would have been to pitch it out one of the windows on the river side of the building. She wondered if the sheriff’s people had checked the river.

A crack from the trees to her right startled her and made her stomach flip again. Her palms were damp as she turned and peered into the tangled growth. She would have go that way to get back to the main path, so she sat very still listening. No further sounds other than the breeze rustling the trees.

After several minutes, she got to her feet, and with the help of the walking stick, made her way back up the path. About halfway up, another noise stopped her. Nearer this time. The back of her neck prickled and she had just decided she’d better get back to the main path as quickly as she could when a large furry shape scurried across the trail ahead of her.

A raccoon. She laughed in relief and realized how jumpy this place made her, even in mid-morning on a sunny day. Picking up the pace, she soon reached the main path and headed back down toward the campground.

She concentrated on her footing and heard rather than saw someone step out of the trees in front of her. Deborah McCabe faced her again from just a couple of feet away. Frannie glanced back over her shoulder. No sign of anyone else around them, friend or foe.

“Hi,” she said, her voice only cracking a little. How could a morning walk turn into such a scary event?

“Um…sorry if I startled you,” Deborah said, glancing from Frannie to the trees and back again..

“Well, yes, you did,” Frannie said. “Did you want something?”

Deborah tried to keep her all-business demeanor. “Yes.” She looked to the other side into the trees. Frannie waited. What was this woman up to now? She slipped one hand in the pocket where she kept her phone and gripped her walking stick tighter with the other.

“I just…well, I wanted to apologize…you know, for what you went through last night.”

Frannie frowned. “Apologize?”

“Well, you see, I sort of made allowances that I shouldn’t have. I mean, Dale and Kyle said they wanted to practice some training that they were taking…they didn’t say what but nobody gives them much of a break and it’s hard to be an outsider here…”

To Frannie’s surprise, tears welled up in Deborah’s eyes and she began blinking rapidly.

“So I told them I would help them.” Deborah swallowed and continued. “I had
no
idea what their plans were…the sheriff questioned me this morning and told me about the terrorist literature they had.” She took a deep breath and composed herself. “I had
no
idea.”

“Deborah, do you think they could have been involved in, you know, what happened to those two women?”

“What?
No
, definitely not! I walked down here that morning and Dale was still in bed.”

“You did? Before we saw you at the center?”

“Of course. I don’t start work until 9:00.”

Frannie thought a moment. “Did you see anyone else on this path.”

Deborah looked at her, eyes wide, as she realized the significance of the question. “Just that guy from Chicago. The one who’s been trying to make time with like half the women here.” The bitter tone told Frannie that Deborah was in the other half.

“Well, do you know why the boys attacked
me
?” Frannie said. “I mean it was obviously planned.”

“I think you asked too many questions. You do, you know.” Deborah had regained her haughty, defensive posture.

“I suppose I do,” Frannie admitted, “but I’m just curious about people. Well, thank you for telling me.”

Deborah gave a curt nod, and stepped back off the path so that Frannie could continue down the hill.

After a few steps, Frannie looked back. Deborah briskly headed up the hill, her back ramrod straight.

Had she been attracted to Kyle and Dale because of being a loner herself? It appeared she was regretting her involvement, and Frannie was sure the apology was extremely difficult for her. As she picked her way down the hill with the aid of her stick, she was taken suddenly back to being an outsider herself, as a new junior high teacher in their present home of Perfection Falls. She met Larry at the local roller skating rink; he was one of the local skating hotshots and dazzled her with his prowess on the floor. Most of his relatives and childhood friends still lived in the same town, and she remembered the feeling of rootlessness—of having no identity or past when she was around them. In some ways it seemed like yesterday; in others like it was someone else’s experience. Time and memory were very strange.

Late Tuesday Morning

Almost back to her campsite, Frannie caught up with Jonie Rump, gamely tottering along in purple spike heels. Her lavender top was again off-the-shoulder, but in deference to the morning hour, she wore jeans. Formfitting jeans that stopped mid-calf and were studded with rhinestone designs on the back pockets, but jeans nonetheless.

Jonie heard her coming and turned back, her face breaking into a wide smile. However, her lavender eyelids appeared puffy and a couple of telltale streaks of mascara leaked from her eyes.

“Hey!”

“Beautiful morning,” Frannie said, returning the smile.

“Been fer a walk?”

“I have.” They strolled along together like old friends, although Jonie’s stroll was more lurching, and Frannie was tempted to offer her the walking stick. “And you?”

“I had to talk to Mel.” Jonie paused, took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. Frannie waited and finally she continued. “I’m afraid he’s kinda sweet on me—,” she lowered her eyelids coyly, “and I thought I should set ‘im straight, as gently as I could, acourse.” She glanced at Frannie for approval.

“Of course,” Frannie agreed. “I take it the feeling wasn’t mutual?”

“Wha—? Oh, yeah, I see what ya mean. Well, he’s been a friend a long time, but not like that. I don’t think he understood, though, and now that I’ll probly be leavin’…” Frannie noticed again that Jonie seemed to slip in and out of her version of a Southern drawl much easier than it would be to slip out of those jeans.

“Leaving? Are you moving, or going on a trip?” They had come to Frannie’s campsite road so she stopped and faced Jonie.

“It’s kind of a secret—do y’all have time for a little visit?”

“Sure,” Frannie said. “My friends are all off biking and I would love a little company. Would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, I’d love some. That is so sweet.”

As they continued to the campsite, Jonie asked her about where else they camped and other safe subjects until Frannie had poured her a mug of coffee and refreshed her own. Once seated by the campfire ring, Jonie returned to her secret.

“Y’see,” she leaned forward in her lawn chair, even though no one else was around to hear, “I’m finally getting my big break.”

“That’s wonderful,” Frannie said. “What’s happened?”

“There’s a man camping here who has connections with some
big
people in the music business. He’s gonna come hear me sing tonight and get me introduced. By this time next week, I could be performin’ in Nashville!” She sat back with a big smile, her breakup with Mel forgotten.

“Sounds great—who is the man?” Frannie asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer.

“His name’s Richard Ellis-Reynolds. It’s a
hyphenated
name.”

Frannie didn’t reply right away. How much to say? Especially when she didn’t
know
anything for sure. But Jonie was a sweet lady and seemed pretty gullible.

“Um, have you checked him out? I mean, how do you know he has these connections?”

“Check him out? How would I do that? He
seems
on the up and up.” Jonie became so disconcerted that she lost her drawl completely.

Frannie sighed. “I’m sure he does, but…I don’t know anything for certain but I think he makes promises to women and doesn’t intend to carry them out.”

“Oh, I think you’re very wrong—no disrespect intended.” Jonie shook her head. Jonie continued on about the names and studios Richard had said he knew and how one of them would surely come through for her.

“He’s gonna loan me what I need to make this work. Could well be my last chance and I’m going to take it.” She paused for a breath. “I have an uncle who’s pretty well off and he’s told me I’m his only heir. But he’s pretty healthy, and ‘course I don’t wish him ill, so Richard said he’d help me out.”

Frannie couldn’t think of a single fact she could present to refute all that.

“Well, I gotta be goin’. Thanks for the coffee,” Jonie got out of her lawn chair and tiptoed toward the road on her spikes.

“Good luck, Jonie!” Frannie called after her. “I hope it all works out for you.” And she hoped it did. But she mistrusted Richard’s intentions, even though she couldn’t imagine what his motive would be in helping Jonie other than good will. She also knew she just plain didn’t want to grant Richard the benefit of the doubt.

She had just gotten back into her book when she felt a familiar nuzzle under her right arm. She looked down into Cuba’s liquid brown eyes, pleading for a walk. Getting the leash, she thought maybe Richard would be hanging around outside and some discreet pumping would be possible. Right.

Cuba strained at the leash as they ambled along the road, itching to explore empty campsites for food and dog smells. A couple of sites still held RVs, one with a man her age reading a thick paperback while his wife sat at the picnic table perusing the morning paper. They both looked up and nodded and the woman said, “Nice dog.”

Frannie nodded her thanks. “She loves to camp.”

When she reached the office area, she was disappointed that Richard’s site looked deserted and his bike was nowhere to be seen.

She stopped in the office to return a paperback that she had borrowed earlier from Mary Louise. Phun Munki lay curled up fat and sassy on the counter, stretched out on the guest ledger. She raised her head and gave Cuba a hiss, which the dog ignored. Cats were beneath Cuba’s dignity.

Mary Louise bustled out from the back office.

“Long time, no see!” she fairly shouted. And then let loose with her unique hoot of laughter.

“Right,” Frannie grinned back at her.

“What can I do for you?”

“Just returning a book I borrowed the other day.” She laid it on the counter. “I seem to have a lot of time to read this trip.”

Mary Louise turned serious. “That’s a shame, honey. I’m so sorry about that fall.”

Frannie waved her off. “Not your fault. I’ve been canoeing for forty years, Mary Louise, and I know better than jumping into a canoe without making sure it’s floating! Don’t think another thing—”

The phone on the counter shrilled an interruption. Mary Louise held up one finger, bracelets jangling, and reached for the phone with the other hand.

“Good morning! River Bend Campground!” For the second time, her wide smile disappeared and a little frown formed between carefully plucked brows. She listened for a minute more and then, “Okay, Sheriff. Anything we can do.” She hung up the phone and looked back up at Frannie.

“Sheriff has a warrant to search Mel Dubrak’s trailer. They’re looking for that camera case and think it might be there.”

“Huh!” Frannie said. “On what basis, did she say?”

“Something Kyle let slip in the questioning.” She sighed and looked sad. “I know they’ve been trouble, but I didn’t figure those boys for murderers.”

“I didn’t either,” Frannie said, puzzled.

“I feel sorry for Mel. First, suspicion of having a meth lab and now this.”

They had only chatted a few minutes longer when the sheriff’s car followed by a couple of other patrol cars slowly passed the office windows.

Frannie looked at Mary Louise. “I’m really curious about what they’ll find, but I think maybe I’d best wait here until this is over. My husband would be shocked but proud.”

Mary Louise clapped her hands, like a child getting ice cream. “Good for you!” She nodded toward a small table in the corner. “I was just playing a little solitaire before you came. How about a game of Doubles?”

“Sure,” Frannie said. “Sounds great.”

About twenty minutes later when the sheriff’s car pulled up again, Mary Louise gathered all of the cards in a pile, knowing that Frannie no longer had any interest in playing. Frannie stood as Sheriff Sorenson walked in the door. The other patrol cars had continued on out of the campground.

The sheriff carried a plastic bag containing a large green shape.

“That’s it!” Frannie said.

The sheriff held up the bag by both corners so that Frannie could get a better look. “You’re sure?”

Pressed, Frannie backed off a little. “Well, that was definitely the color.”

“One of the twins carried something like this that morning when you saw her leave?”

“Yes. Did Kyle admit that they had taken it?”

Mary Sorenson hesitated. “Not exactly. He said if we wanted to know what was going on, we should check Dale’s trailer.”

“Was it inside?” Mary Louise asked.

“No, underneath the trailer behind some old batteries and tires. No Dale though, he apparently took off. What are you getting at?”

Frannie saw immediately what Mary Louise was thinking. “Anyone could have put it there.”

“You think Kyle tried to frame Dale?” the sheriff asked.

“Or someone else did.”

“Was that the only suspicious thing you found?” Mary Louise prompted.

“No, we also found more terrorist literature under an old mattress inside.”

“What if the camera bag was planted, and Kyle was referring to the stuff you found inside—maybe he just didn’t want to go down alone,” Frannie said.

The sheriff looked at her and smiled. “I don’t
want
this to be complicated.”

“Did you find any fingerprints or anything in the twins’ camper from the intruders?” Frannie asked.

“Yes, we did. Same ones we found in the seasonal trailer. Where the meth lab was.” The sheriff up the bag again. “I think this is going to give us some answers as soon as we check out the memory card, so I need to get back and take care of that. Thanks again.”

Frannie and Mary Louise watched her go.

“What are you thinking?” Mary Louise said.

“Seems like it all depends on what’s on that camera—assuming they didn’t just use that bag for their lunch or extra underwear.” She gave a wry smile. “I don’t know anything about the people with the meth lab, of course. But if they ransacked the trailer, it seems unlikely that they killed the twins. They may have been looking for incriminating photos and film in the trailer but if one them had done the murdering, they would have had the camera bag.”

“Like you said—depends on what is on the camera.” Mary Louise wiped down the counter and replaced the ledger.

Frannie thought a minute. “I guess it’s possible there was nothing on the camera, so they broke into the trailer to make sure there wasn’t anything there. Or if there was incriminating stuff on the camera, that there weren’t more copies.”

“It does seem like they had the most to lose,” Mary Louise said.

“Do you have a busy weekend coming up?” Frannie was tired of trying to wrap her head around all of these suspects.

“Oh, yes, if the weather holds, we’ll be busy until fall.”

Frannie said her goodbyes and led Cuba back to their campsite. Still no sign of anyone at Richard’s site.

The sheriff’s findings brought up lots more questions than they answered. Had anyone seen the meth lab people anywhere near the power plant the morning of the murders? Or for that matter any of the other suspects? Then she remembered Deborah had seen Richard, but he had admitted to the sheriff that he had been there and explained his presence, true or not. She was convinced that the murderer had escaped through the old tunnel, but any of the suspects could have known about that.. The timing just wouldn’t allow for anything else.

It occurred to her now that if whoever stole the camera bag had any tech savvy, he or she would have erased the memory card in the camera by now; so she was eager to hear what the sheriff would find.

At the sound of bikes on the gravel, she looked up to see the rest of her group returning. Donna showed off a pair of hand-knit socks and Mickey shared a funny story about three wild turkeys who ran ahead of the cyclists for about a quarter mile rather than dodge into the brush.

“You can see how turkeys got a reputation for not being too bright,” Mickey finished.

Frannie filled the others in on the events of her morning. Larry stood, hands on hips staring in the distance toward the location of the old trailer.

“If the twins had photos of Dale and his friends going through the training courses at the Center, how could that possibly be a threat to them?”

“What do you mean?” Frannie sensed a new perspective.

“Unless they are carrying weapons in the photos, which you would think the twins would have reported, what could they have been doing that would be any different from anyone else using the course?”

“You’re right. Well, Mary Louise suggested that the camera bag could have been planted since it wasn’t even inside the trailer. It just seems less and less likely that Dale and Kyle were involved in the murders.”

Donna had been listening intently. “Don’t you just follow the money?”

“What?” Frannie looked at Donna and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Donna shrugged. “I thought detectives always followed the money.”

“I’m not a detective, and I don’t pretend to be.”