“Gertie and her husband Earl bought the property thirty years ago,” he started. “They got it for a song because at that time no one thought building on Manistee Lake was a good idea. I bet if people had to do it all over again they would snap up that property in a heartbeat.”
“So ... late eighties, right?” Landon did the math in his head. “That means they came in at a time when the industrial base here was still chugging along.”
“Basically,” Chief Terry confirmed. “Back in those days, people assumed everything would stay hunky-dory for the foreseeable future.”
“I don’t know that I’m comfortable with you using the phrase ‘hunky-dory,’” I offered. “It makes me respect you just a little bit less.”
“Don’t push it.” Chief Terry growled, but he turned and offered me a wink before continuing. “Technically, Gertie doesn’t live in Hemlock Cove. She lives in Harlan Oaks, but that’s barely a town. Never was — maybe a hundred people here or there — but it’s basically her and a bunch of abandoned homes now.”
“You’re saying she’s on her own?” Landon queried.
“I’m saying she’s not really a part of any community,” he clarified. “She’s kind of a loner anyway.”
“What about her husband?”
“Earl passed about eleven years ago. I’ll have to look that up. I’m pretty sure it was more than a decade. I see Gertie from time to time, but she only comes into town to shop when she feels like it. She’s not exactly the sociable sort.”
“I remember her from when I was a kid,” I offered, searching my memory. “She was always friendly. She loved it when we were at the camp and hung around quite often even though she hired counselors for most of the work.”
“I think she and Earl had big dreams for that camp,” Chief Terry said. “They hoped to make it a go-to destination for kids across the state. That didn’t last very long. The camp did okay in the early days. I mean ... it was fine in the eighties and nineties. By the time the century turned, things were starting to fall apart.”
“I went to camp after the turn of the century,” I reminded him.
“You did. I’m sure if you think back to that time, though, you’ll realize that the camp wasn’t open the entire season. You had to call and rent the space if you wanted to use it, and that wasn’t always easy because Gertie was feeling ornery in those days.”
I didn’t remember any of that. “I ... why?”
“Well, the camp never provided a sufficient full-time income. There were years right after they took over the camp that Gertie was convinced it would and Earl would be able to quit his job at the paper mill. But it never panned out.
“With each passing year, the dreams she had of running around all summer with a whistle while telling ghost stories slipped further and further from her grasp and she became bitterer,” he continued.
“She should talk to Aunt Tillie,” Landon countered as he navigated the highway. “She runs around with a whistle and tells ghost stories and does perfectly fine. Maybe there’s a trick to the lifestyle.”
Chief Terry rolled his eyes but otherwise didn’t comment. “In addition to the camp not living up to expectations, she lost her son about ten years ago.”
“I forgot she had a son,” I admitted, sheepish. “He would hang around the camp sometimes when I was a kid, but he never seemed very happy.”
“I don’t know that much about Joey,” Chief Terry admitted. “He would’ve been older than you and younger than me. He was a decent way behind me in school and graduated when you were still in middle school. He’d be about thirty-five now … maybe thirty-seven. He wasn’t exactly the go-getter type. But he didn’t get in any trouble.”
“What happened to him?” Landon asked as he checked his GPS.
“There was some sort of fire,” Chief Terry replied. “I can’t remember exactly how it played out. I’m almost positive it was determined to be accidental. It wasn’t my case. Something happened and he never made it out of the shed he was living in on the property. It burned hot and fast. My predecessor handled it because he knew Gertie.”
“That was after her husband died, right?” I was trying to remember.
“Her husband and Joey died close to each other,” Chief Terry supplied. “It was less than a year. Joey would’ve been about twenty-five when he died. I’d have to check his records to be certain, but that’s pretty close. He was still living with his parents at the time because he wasn’t exactly motivated to get a job and pay his own bills.”
“Basically you’re saying he was lazy.”
“Basically,” Chief Terry agreed. “He got a few jobs here and there throughout the years. I seem to remember Edward Sherman hired him to help with his fields one year, but that didn’t work out because Joey didn’t like getting up before noon and his mother was constantly making excuses. Most people figured out quickly that Joey wasn’t going to put in the effort.”
I didn’t understand that. My mother and aunts instilled a dedicated work ethic in my cousins and me at a young age. We all had our quirks — Thistle and Clove mostly — but we were all hard workers. “So, Gertie was paying his way when he was twenty-five?”
“That’s how I remember things,” Chief Terry confirmed. “Gertie was broken-hearted when Earl died. By the time Joey followed, she was numb with grief.”
“And she’s been alone out here since?”
“She has. People have tried engaging her to play cards at the senior center and join in with some of the festivals, but she refuses. She lives off Earl’s pension and Social Security, barely squeaks by.”
“Why doesn’t she sell the camp land?” I asked. “I mean, she could get a pretty penny for that property from some developer who wants to build a big house or even condos.”
“I know people have sniffed around trying to buy it,” Chief Terry replied. “She always turns them down. She says she and Earl had a dream and she’s not ready to give up that dream.”
“Yeah, but ... that dream is dead,” I pointed out. “The whole idea of summer camps like that is dead.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I agree with you. She isn’t convinced that’s true, and she has a right to believe what she wants.”
“I guess.” I tapped my bottom lip as I stretched in the backseat. Something about the story niggled at the back of my brain. “I remember the pool being built after we stopped going multiple times a year. We still went … but Mom and the aunts could only talk us into it once a summer. If the camp was already in trouble when we were there, why build that pool?”
Chief Terry made a face. “That was Margaret. Go figure. She had it in her head that we could turn that camp into a place where the youth of Walkerville would want to hang out. I tried explaining that the location was too far for kids who didn’t have cars to just wander out there, but she wouldn’t listen.
“Anyway, she sat down with Gertie and they came up with the idea of making it a community pool,” he continued. “The town council was going to pay her a monthly stipend and Margaret was convinced that would keep the gangs from loitering on the streets.”
Landon snorted. “Walkerville had gangs?”
“Only in Margaret’s head. There was an old pool on the property, but it was empty and covered. You kids were kept from it because it was a safety hazard. That pool was essentially dumped and refurbished in one summer.”
“Did the kids visit the camp?”
“Kind of. I mean ... they did for a month or so. It was a big deal. Everyone loves a pool. The problem is that parents got tired of driving their sons and daughters out there, so it really lasted just the one summer. There was a kind of overflow from the first summer to the second, so I guess it’s more accurate to say two summers. Then the camp became a ghost town again.”
“It’s kind of sad,” I mused, staring out the window. “Gertie actually wanted to give something to the community. It’s too bad it didn’t work out for her.”
“I agree. Just be prepared, thoug
h. Gertie is a little ... nutty ... from spending so much time alone. She’s not ‘I’m going to kill you’ crazy or anything, but she’s not ‘let’s do complicated math problems’ sane either.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. His sense of humor showed itself at the oddest of times. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
GERTIE’S HOUSE WAS ESSENTIALLY A glorified shack in the woods. I’m sure at some point it was a beautiful cabin with lovely accents and gingerbread trim. Now the roof sagged and the front porch looked as if it should be condemned.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t send senior services out here to check on her?” Landon asked as he put his hand to my back and glanced around at the cluttered parcel. “This can’t be safe or sanitary. I’m pretty sure there’s a nest of raccoons living in that old truck.”
“That’s Earl’s truck,” Chief Terry said. “She pitches a fit if you mention getting rid of it ... so don’t do that.”
“Duly noted.” Landon held my hand as we climbed the rickety steps that led to the front door and then gave me a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. He was in work mode when he knocked on the door.
Curiosity had me giving the small woman who wrenched open the door a few minutes later a long scan. Gertie looked as I remembered her ... only more disheveled ... and grayer ... and maybe a little unhinged. I could understand what Chief Terry was saying about the isolation causing her to act strangely. The way her eyes bounced between our faces reminded me of a bad horror movie, one in which an elderly kook lives in a house at the edge of the mayhem and serves as a harbinger to warn partying teens that they’re about to die. That’s how I felt now.
“Hello, Gertie.” Chief Terry adopted a pleasant smile as he clasped his hands together in front of him. “How are you today?”
Gertie didn’t return the smile. “I have hemorrhoids, Irritable Bowel Syndrome and heartburn. How about you?”
Chief Terry didn’t miss a beat. “I’m managing to skate by,” he replied. “This is Landon Michaels. He’s an FBI agent who is stationed here these days.” He flicked his eyes to me. “And I’m sure you remember Bay Winchester. She’s Winnie’s girl.”
Gertie’s eyes landed on me. “I remember. You were one of those heathens who liked to party at the campground when you were a teenager.”
Oh, well, I’d forgotten all about that. Apparently she remembered, so we were all good. “I don’t think we went out to the old camp more than a few times,” I responded. “I hope we didn’t cause any damage?”
“Would you care if you did?”
That was a loaded question. “Of course I would.” I’d learned to lie from the best, so I delivered the statement with as much gusto as possible. “I would want to make amends. Did we destroy anything? I seem to remember us being respectful partiers.”
Landon slid me a sidelong look as his lips quirked.
“I see you have a lot in common with Tillie,” Gertie supplied as she held open the door. “You might as well come in. It’s not warm enough to let all the heat out.”
I followed Landon and Chief Terry inside the cabin and was thankful to see it looked much better inside than outside. It was homey and warm, and Gertie had a kettle boiling on the stove in the kitchen.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on and we’ll get this awkward encounter behind us as fast as possible,” she demanded.
“We are here for a reason,” Chief Terry confirmed.
“I figured.”
“It has to do with the camp, Gertie.”
She stilled, her hand halfway to the kettle. “Was there a fire? Oh, please tell me it didn’t burn down. I don’t know that I can take it if it burned down.”
“It didn’t burn down,” Chief Terry said hurriedly. “It’s still standing.”
“Well, then whatever it is can’t be that bad.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I muttered under my breath, earning a warning look from Chief Terry.
“A body was found in the pool.” Chief Terry opted to blurt it out rather than drag it out. “We don’t know much yet. It’s a young woman. We’re not sure how she died. She was found under the pool cover. There were no tears big enough to suggest she somehow fell through. That means someone had to pull the cover over her.”
Gertie blinked several times then snatched the kettle off the stove the second it began whistling. “Well, that is unfortunate,” she said finally, shaking her head. “How did you even find a body? I mean ... did you get a call or something?”
“I discovered it,” Landon volunteered quickly. “I visited the camp when I was a kid and I asked Bay to take me. I wanted to see it again. We were walking around when we saw a hand poking out of the water.”
“You mean you were trespassing.”
“I guess, if that’s the way you want to look at it.”
“There’s no other way to look at it,” she snapped. “I don’t like trespassers.” Gertie’s gaze was weighted when it landed on me. “I mean ... I really hate trespassers.”
“If you would like to press charges for the trespassing, that’s your prerogative,” Chief Terry offered, calm. “That doesn’t change the fact that a body was found in the pool and we need to know if you’re aware of how it got there.”
“Are you asking me if I put the body in the pool?” Gertie was incredulous. “I’m seventy years old. I already told you about the hemorrhoids. How do you think I managed that?”
“Ma’am, we’re not saying we think you killed her,” Landon said hurriedly. “It’s just ... well ... we’re wondering when you last visited the camp. Perhaps you saw someone hanging around that might be of interest to us.”
“I haven’t been out to the camp in months,” Gertie said, bitterness practically wafting off her in waves as she shook her head. “It depresses me to see it how it is. Plus, I have arthritis in my knees. I can’t get around all that well.”
“Can you be more specific about the last time you were out there?” Chief Terry pressed.
“It was before winter. I checked on the property in the fall, before the snow. I always do. It was quiet. No one was out there. If you’re thinking there are squatters out there, I don’t see how they would make it work. There’s no food source in that area and the heat to the main building has been turned off for years.”
“What about fireplaces?” Landon asked.
“There’s nothing inside the cabins. There’s a fire pit not far from the lake, but it’s overgrown with weeds because no one has built a fire out there in years.”
“What about neighbors?” Chief Terry asked. “A few people have homes out there. Have you ever asked any of them to check on the camp property for you? That would save you some wear and tear on your knees.”
“I don’t want nothing to do with those people,” Gertie barked, frustration poking through her demeanor. “They keep trying to buy my land from me. They keep saying it’s better for me. They don’t know. That land is all I have left that I care about.
“We were going to make it a grand place,” she continued, turning to me. “Earl and me. We were going to make it one of those camps that people remember forever. You know. You came to camp. You still remember, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard at her earnest nature. “I definitely remember.”
“It was supposed to be something we could enjoy forever, but it didn’t happen the way we thought it would. You want to know why?”
“I’m guessing it had something to do with the changing attitudes of adolescence,” I answered honestly. “Children became more interested in television and video games than camp. It’s terrible, but it is what it is.”
The look Gertie shot me was withering. “It’s because of those horror movies. The one with the hockey mask killer who walks around stabbing people. That’s why my camp failed.”
That was so not where I expected her to go. “Friday the 13th?”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s the one! Those movies are all about people go
ing to camp and being killed. That ruined my camp. I thought about suing the people who made those movies, but I didn’t want to give them more attention than they already had.”
I risked a glance at Landon and found him watching Gertie with an unreadable expression.
“I thought those movies came out in the early eighties,” I said finally, grasping for something to say. “Your camp didn’t close until almost thirty years later. How could the movies be to blame?”
“They’re still making those movies!” She spoke harshly and jabbed a finger in my direction, forcing me to hold my hands up in surrender. “Those movies ruined my life. Mark my words.”
“I can see that,” Landon said, his expression neutral. “I’m sorry that happened. Still, we need to know if you can think of anyone who might be hanging around the camp.”
“The camp is off limits. Anyone going there doesn’t have permission. Do you think they’re going to stop and tell me before they break the law?”
“Fair enough.” Landon inhaled deeply and smiled. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope we have answers to share about what’s going on … and soon.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
Four
Landon sent me to Hemlock Cove with his Explorer. He stayed with Chief Terry at the campground — the body had been removed, although the members of the tech team Landon sent for were arguing about the best way to drain the pool — and he insisted that it was better for me to head back rather than wait for him.
As owner of The Whistler, Hemlock Cove’s only newspaper, part of me felt as if I should stay at the camp to gather information. The other part knew that Landon and Chief Terry would provide me with answers as soon as they had them.
With that in mind, I headed to town. I parked Landon’s Explorer in front of the police station and walked to the coffee shop rather than the office, where work would be required.
“Hello, Bay.”
Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery Box Set Page 33