A Hole In One

by Judy Penz Sheluk

  “You were the one who thought he might have been Luke’s accomplice.”

  “And you were the one who mocked me for thinking it. Besides, he did donate a signed first edition of his first two books, and a name-a-character in his next book.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean he was in the silent auction room. Your earlier instincts could have been right.” Emily tapped the pen against the legal pad. “Are you sure Hudson didn’t have any inkling of what Trent wanted to tell him?”

  “It was just a feeling Hudson had. He called it his ‘writer’s instinct.’ I’ll give Hudson a call tomorrow. We’re supposed to have dinner again this week, so it won’t come out of the blue.”

  Emily grinned. “Aren’t you becoming the heartthrob?”

  Arabella blushed. “It’s not like that. Anyway, back to Trent. I think you’re right. He went to the golf course to meet someone. Blackmail seems as likely a reason as any.”

  “Whatever the reason, my guess is that whoever he met there is the killer. All we have to do is find out who he met.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No, that’s not all. We also have to hope he wasn’t meeting Levon.”

  “You don’t think Levon is guilty, do you?”

  “Of course not, but you have to admit it doesn’t look good, him doing a vanishing act.” Arabella was forced to admit it did not. But she did have an idea of where he might have gone.

  37

  Arabella told Emily she was going home for the night, knowing full well she had no intention of doing so. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Emily; it was more like she was protecting her. At least that’s what she told herself.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Emily said. “I’m exhausted. See you in the morning?”

  Arabella nodded. “I might be a bit late. I forgot to tell you that I had a dental appointment. With the dentist.”

  “A dental appointment with the dentist. That’s certainly better than a dental appointment with a veterinarian.” Emily eyed Arabella with suspicion. “What are you actually planning?”

  “Nothing. And I could have had a dental appointment with the hygienist.”

  “Whatever you say. I’m tired and my imagination is in overdrive. I’ll see you when you get in. Do you want me to sort the quilts and hang them on the quilt racks you have stored in the inventory room? I can get some descriptions written and make sure to promote the local angle. Plus, it will make for some new Facebook and website content. I’m going to try Caitie’s Pinterest suggestion, too. The quilts can be my first board.”

  “What about Etsy? Who was the woman who specialized in lampshades with matching pillows?

  She left her card with me, said Etsy was her best resource.”

  Arabella went over to her desk and opened a drawer filled with business cards. “Here it is. Leah Clark, Leah’s Shades and Shams. She uses fabrics designed by Ralph Lauren and Laura Ashley, among others. Really pretty stuff. We weren’t sure if her stuff would be a good fit, but now that we carry quilts…not that I know how we’re going to price them.”

  “Etsy is a great idea. Leah might be able to help with pricing, or she might know someone. Don’t all those sewing types know each other?”

  Arabella grinned. “I’m not sure that they do, but it’s a good suggestion. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “That you will. After your…dentist appointment.”

  Arabella was almost out the door when Emily called out to her.

  “Be careful, Arabella. And say hi to Levon for me when you find him.”

  Busted. Arabella would have laughed except this was no laughing matter.

  The old County Road leading to Camp Miakoda twisted and turned at random, as if whoever had designed it had no sense of direction. Arabella was tempted to drive over the speed limit, but she’d gotten a ticket here last year and wasn’t in any hurry to repeat the experience.

  Arabella checked her watch when she got there. Six-thirty. Still a good two hours before sunset, but she’d have to hurry. It wasn’t like there would be any streetlights. At least she’d had the foresight to bring a flashlight, not that she relished the idea of walking the winding, wooded trail in the dark. She shivered despite the heat, thinking of what sort of wildlife might be out there. Coyotes, without question. Foxes, most definitely. Probably moose and deer. Black bears.

  Levon’s car was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here. There were plenty of other places to enter the camp, places along the river, or if you were able to navigate the woods like a tracker, a mile or two down the road. She’d meant to check at the old hydro dam and forgot. She parked as far away from the road as she could, hoping her vehicle wouldn’t be visible to anyone driving by. It wasn’t like the place was regularly patrolled, but there was a huge NO TRESPASSING sign posted by a “For Sale” sign. Both were old and battered, the ravages of time and weather catching up to them. Even Poppy Spencer hadn’t been able to sell this white elephant.

  Camp Miakoda might have sounded magical, especially if you knew that Miakoda meant “the power of the moon.” But the harsh reality was this was an old boot camp for young offenders, and Levon had spent a summer here when he was seventeen, twenty-some years ago.

  Camp Miakoda was a failed experiment, closed since the nineties, and the surrounding area was nothing but acres upon acres of crown land and conservation. The nearest residence was probably a cabin thirty miles away, maybe more.

  Arabella squeezed her way through a hole in the barbed wire fence, careful not to snag her jeans on the jagged edges of the rusty hole someone had cut out years ago. She started down the path, nervous now, second-guessing her decision not to tell Emily where she was going. She had her phone in her back pocket but knew from past experience that there was no cell reception.

  She wound her way along the path, stopping at a fork in the trail. Did she turn left or right? Her sense of direction was dismal at best and non-existent at worst. The last time she’d been here Levon had led the way, and she’d been scared witless. Arabella closed her eyes and tried to remember which way to go. She picked left and thought she recognized a small pond off in a clearing. Worst case, she’d probably end up back at the road instead of at the camp. At least she hoped that was the worst case.

  The way into Camp Miakoda was a mix of overgrown shrubs, tree roots, and small rocks. The space felt claustrophobic, as if the road had tried to choke out any chance of survival. The mosquitoes got thicker and more insistent as dusk settled in. Arabella swatted them away ineffectively and wished she’d thought to douse herself with bug spray. After what seemed like hours, but was in fact less than forty-five minutes, she reached another fence, this one with a gatehouse and a gate, the kind where a button would be pushed by a gatekeeper to raise the arm up and let a vehicle go through. Twenty years ago the road to the gate would have been drivable, at least in the summer months, but years of neglect had changed all that.

  Arabella slid underneath the wooden arm and made her way past a red brick building with small, leaded glass windows. With the exception of the odd curling shingle, the building still looked solid. She shivered despite the heat, thinking about the last time she’d been here.

  A man was standing on the dock, surveying the river, his back to her. He was talking into something that looked like an old-fashioned cell phone, the kind with an antenna on the top.

  The man was too tall for Levon. He was heavier too, even though he’d recently lost a lot of weight. But it wasn’t his build or stature that gave him away. It was his uniform. The uniform of the Miakoda Falls Police Department. He put the phone in his pocket and pivoted to face her before Arabella had a chance to turn around and run the other way.

  38

  Aaron Beecham glared at Arabella, hands on his hips, his expression dark. “Whatever would bring you back to Camp Miakoda? Or should I rephrase that to say, who brought you back?”

  Arabella swallowed hard. There was no sign of the compassionate man she’d dated. Sh
e considered playing the personal card and dismissed it. This was a cop doing a job, and any feelings he might still have for her had been compartmentalized—if he still had feelings for her. She decided to opt for complete transparency.

  “Kerri St. Amour came by the Glass Dolphin a couple of hours ago. She wanted to gauge Emily’s and my reaction to the murder of Trent Norland. She told us Levon was missing. She implied that you were looking for him. She also told me that you’d found an antique gun in the pond.”

  Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “Kerri had no business telling you any of that. I specifically told her that I wanted to speak to you first.”

  “Kerri doesn’t play by the rules. Everyone who knows her knows that. I’m surprised as a cop you haven’t figured that out.” She attempted a smile, but didn’t quite succeed. “Or maybe you’d figured that out and didn’t care as long as you got the media coverage you needed.”

  Beecham’s face reddened, not quite a blush but getting there. She’d nailed it, then. They had been using Kerri, feeding her tidbits of information to get the whole meal. “You had to know that if you got in bed with a snake, you were bound to get bitten.”

  To Arabella’s immense irritation, Beecham ignored the jab. Instead he asked her about Levon, and why she assumed he might be here.

  “You know the answer to that as well as I do, Aaron. It all started here, for him.” Except as soon as she said the words, she knew it wasn’t true. It had all started for him the day Marc Larroquette left for a pack of smokes and never came back.

  “He was here, earlier,” Beecham said. “Or at least I assume it was him. There were footsteps in the sand by the dock that match his foot size. Size ten.”

  “Lots of men wear size ten,” Arabella said, knowing full well those men probably had no connection to Camp Miakoda.

  “Do they also have a penchant for denim? We found denim fibers on the fence.”

  “Denim is now an endangered fabric?”

  “I hope Levon appreciates your loyalty.” He pulled the oversized phone from his pocket, speaking into it in a low mumble before replacing it. “Constable Byrne has been searching the area by car.”

  “I didn’t think there was cell reception here.”

  “There isn’t. This is a walkie-talkie. Sometimes old school is the only school. Byrne is waiting by the fence. Come on, I’ll walk you back before it gets dark.”

  “What if I’d like to take a look around first?”

  “Trust me, Levon isn’t here. I’ve searched the premises thoroughly, including the old hydro dam. I’m not sure why or when he came here, but he’s gone now. Either that or he’s hiding somewhere in the woods where no one can find him.”

  “What about inside the camp?”

  “There’s a padlock on the door. Even Levon isn’t clever enough to enter a building and padlock the door behind him. I looked in the windows, dust on the floor and not a footstep to be found. No one’s been in that building for years.”

  “What’s going to happen to him if you find him?”

  “Before he comes in voluntarily?”

  “Yeah. Before that.”

  Beecham shrugged. “That will be Detective Merryfield’s call. But it would be best if you stopped playing Nancy Drew. For your sake and Levon’s.”

  Arabella bit back tears. The thought of losing Levon forever was too much to bear. “Did it occur to you that he might be in danger? He’s not an idiot. He wouldn’t toss his gun in the pond. He knows the pond gets dredged for golf balls, and he’d shown that gun to a few people, myself included. It would only be a matter of time until the police connected the gun to him.”

  Beecham’s expression softened. “All we want to do is talk to him about the antique gun and his relationship with Trent Norland.”

  “The gun he might be able to help you with, but his relationship with Trent Norland? He didn’t know him.”

  “That’s what we need to find out. Just promise me you’ll get him to come in to the station if he calls you.”

  “I’ll personally drive him to the station.”

  After I call Isla Kempenfelt to meet us there.

  Unless I kill him first for leading us all on a wild goose chase.

  39

  They were making good time back to the road. Arabella didn’t particularly enjoy hiking through the woods and as dusk settled in, she became grateful for Aaron’s company. They fell into a companionable silence, and for a few minutes, she could almost imagine them being here under more pleasant circumstances.

  Something changed at the midway point. Arabella glanced up at Aaron and was relieved to see that his expression hadn’t altered. She kept her eyes on the path, in part to keep from tripping over tree roots, but mostly so she didn’t give away her feelings. Because she absolutely knew Levon was following them. She could feel his eyes boring into her back.

  She kept walking.

  Relieved to be back to the road again, Arabella spotted Sarah Byrne right away, standing by the police car, waiting for them.

  “Any luck?” Sarah asked.

  Beecham shook his head. “Ms. Carpenter has promised to bring him into the station if he calls her.”

  Sarah raised her eyebrows. Arabella wasn’t sure if it was because of the Ms. Carpenter reference or because of the promise extracted. Either way, it made her feel vulnerable. She wished that they would leave so Levon would come out of the woods. Maybe if she left first, and came back?

  “I’m going to head into Lount’s Landing and grab a late dinner.”

  “We’re heading out as well,” Beecham said. “We’ve spent enough time out here. It’s time to get back to the station.”

  They got into their respective vehicles, Byrne driving the cop car, and Arabella following until they made the turn to Miakoda Falls. She stopped at the side of the road after she’d put a couple of miles behind her and took out her phone. If Beecham and Byrne came back to follow her she could pretend she needed to call Emily.

  She waited fifteen minutes before she felt secure enough to turn back to Camp Miakoda. She drove by the entrance and continued along the County Road until she came to a small clearing in the woods. It was getting dark. She pulled a flashlight from her glove compartment, got out of the car, and started walking on the shoulder, looking behind herself every other step she took.

  There was a rustling of leaves, and a shadowy figure emerged from the trees. Arabella jumped backwards, her heart pounding.

  It was Levon, unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. The scruffy look suits him, Arabella thought, annoyed that such a thing had even crossed her mind. He was carrying a backpack.

  “Where’s your car?” she asked.

  “I walked most of the way. Hitchhiked part of it.”

  “You walked here from your house?” It was miles away.

  “Yeah. I brought some supplies and a blanket in my backpack. I’ll admit it wasn’t quite the adventure I was hoping for. I thought I’d be able to sleep in the main building. I’d forgotten about the padlock. And the mosquitos.”

  “You forgot a lot more than that. What on earth were you thinking?”

  “All I knew was that I had to get away.”

  “How did you find out about Trent Norland?”

  “Kerri St. Amour called me. She’s a veritable wealth of information.”

  “She told me that you weren’t answering your cell, that you’d up and disappeared.”

  “Disappeared might be a bit of an exaggeration. I just needed time to think. When I saw Beecham traipsing around here, I knew I was probably a suspect.”

  “Running away is going to convince them of your innocence?” Levon attempted a smile. “Admittedly, not one of my better ideas.”

  You can say that again. “Did Kerri mention the antique gun in the pond?”

  “What?”

  “Your antique gun. The Enfield? The police found it in the pond at the third hole of the Miakoda Falls Golf and Country Club.”

  “Surely they don’t think I’
d be that stupid. Why would I use a gun that could easily be traced back to me to kill two people?”

  “The better question would be, how did your gun end up there if you didn’t put it there? You always locked it up in a safe and stored the bullets separately, as required by law. At least you used to, when I lived there.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What don’t you know?”

  “I looked for it after my father was murdered, and it wasn’t in the safe. I think it was stolen. But I didn’t notice until after the murder. I could hardly go to the police and say, ‘By the way, the murder weapon might be my antique gun, which I had locked up in a safe and now seems to be missing,’ now could I?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because—” Levon shook his head, “I thought my father had taken it. He came by the house after our argument in the park. I didn’t leave him alone for long, but I had a call I didn’t want him to hear, so I went outside. He could have taken it then.”

  “But it was locked in the safe.”

  “I’m terrible at remembering numbers. You know that. I had a label at the back of the safe with the combination written on it. He would have remembered that I did that with every combination lock I owned.”

  Levon was terrible about remembering numbers: phone numbers, postal codes, addresses. He was hopeless. But putting a label with the combination on the back of a safe? Even if Marc had taken the gun, he hadn’t shot himself, and he certainly hadn’t shot Trent Norland.

  “We need to call Isla Kempenfelt and fill her in. Then we need to go to the police station and you have to tell them everything.” There was no need to tell him about her promise to Aaron Beecham.

  “I’m not looking forward to it, but you’re right.” Levon rubbed a hand against his jaw. “Do you mind if I clean up before we go to the station? I haven’t had a shower or a shave for forty-eight hours.”