“You’re doing great, babe,” I encouraged. “We’re almost halfway. Can we try going a little faster?”
He added an extra mile per hour. Between the pace, the wind, and the piles of snow he had to clear out of the way, it took us nearly five minutes to get out to the shanty.
Still a bit wary, Tripp insisted on leaving the truck twenty yards from the RV. Reasoning that if it went through from that distance, it wouldn’t suck us under with it. When we got to the RV and hadn’t heard a single creak or groan from the ice, he finally relaxed. I agreed with him about the sounds ice makes. I’d heard it before, and it was creepy as hell. Especially when you were in the middle of the lake.
Tripp pounded on the door and called out, “Benji? It’s Tripp and Jayne, we’re coming in.” He tried the door and found it locked as Abner had warned.
I stepped around him with the key and unlocked the door, but snow and ice had formed a crust on the shanty, so it still wouldn’t open.
“Benji,” I hollered, “help us out. The door is stuck.”
While we waited for Benji to appear and push from inside, I kept tugging on the door, and Tripp peeked in a window.
“Jayne, he’s on the floor. And I don’t think he’s sleeping.”
Chapter 12
Desperate now to get inside the RV, Tripp and I pounded around the edges of the door to loosen the ice and snow sealing it shut. It seemed to take forever, but between pounding and pulling, we finally got it to open.
“Let me go in first,” I told him. “If this is a crime scene, you’ll need to stay out. Sorry.”
“Crime scene? You think there’s more going on than Abner messing with a lock?”
“Not really, but it’ll only take me a few seconds to either clear the place or find someone in there with him.” I pulled his balaclava over his nose. “Keep that covered.”
“Leave the door open,” Tripp requested, “in case there is someone other than Benji inside. I understand this could be a crime scene, but there’s no way I’ll stay out here if you get into trouble.”
I agreed then poked my head in the doorway and called out, “Is anyone in here?” I waited two seconds. “This is Sheriff O’Shea, I’m coming in.”
Cabinets lined every available wall space, but I only saw one big enough for someone to hide in. As I made my way to the corner diagonal to my right, I called, “Benji? Can you hear me?” I pounded on the door with my fist. “This is Sheriff O’Shea. Anyone in there?” When no one responded, I pounded again and then yanked the door open. It was a bathroom. Or rather a toilet room. No shower or sink. And it was empty.
With the RV cleared, I rushed to Benji’s side. He lay next to an open fishing hole in the RV’s floor. I took a few precious seconds to snap a couple pictures of where Benji lay. Then I pulled fishing poles out of three open ice holes and flipped the covers shut. I didn’t want either Tripp or myself to step in them.
“Benji, come on, I need you to wake up.” I pressed my fingers to his carotid and found a pulse, but it was weak. Having no reason to believe this was a crime scene, I yelled for Tripp to come in.
He was at my side in seconds. While I supported Benji’s head and neck, we rolled him onto his back and immediately noticed a cherry-red tint to his skin.
“Cyanide?” I wondered aloud.
“As in suicide?” Tripp asked, shocked. “I can’t imagine that. Benji is so in love with his wife and his life, he’d never do that.”
“What else would cause this?” I held out my hand to him. “Can I have the walkie talkie, please?” He pulled it out of his inside pocket. “Dad, come in please.”
I repeated the call once more and while I waited for him to respond, I glanced around the shanty. It was more like a rolling log cabin than a shanty with knotty-pine paneling on the walls and cupboards, bright lighting, and slip-proof flooring. The sofas were covered in upholstery fabric with wolves and bears. I thought of Farkas again. This wolf thing was like getting a new vehicle and suddenly seeing dozens of that same car on the road. A wolf showed up at my house, and now I saw them all over the place.
“I’m here,” Dad announced after a second call. “What do you need?”
“Would you bring the talkie upstairs to Jola? I need to ask her a medical question.”
“It’s getting warm in here,” Tripp noted while we waited.
“Three of the five ice holes were open. With all this wind, air was coming up through them. Benji must’ve cranked up the heat to compensate.”
Tripp reached for the knob on the gas furnace to turn it off, but I stopped him.
“Take a picture of the setting first.” I handed him my cell phone. “We want to document conditions as they were when we got here before changing or moving anything.”
He took pictures of not only the setting but also of the RV’s interior from multiple angles. Then he stood back and stared at the furnace.
“What’s wrong?”
Before he could respond, Jola’s voice came over the talkie. “What’s up, Jayne?”
I was doubly glad I’d switched the units to a secure channel before we left. The last thing I needed was half the village spreading a rumor that Benji was dead. I told her about his condition and then released the talk button.
An instant later she blurted, “Carbon monoxide poisoning. Is he breathing? Can you find a pulse?”
I watched as Benji’s chest rose a tiny bit and fell again. “Faint on both counts, but yes.”
“Good. He needs oxygen. You and Tripp will, too, if you don’t get out of there soon.”
Tripp had already stepped outside to check something on the back of the RV.
I hollered, “Tripp, I need help.”
“Outside isn’t enough,” Jola was saying. “It sounds like he’s been in there for quite a while. He needs the pure stuff. Hang on. I’m going to call Drake.”
“The furnace vent is iced shut,” Tripp reported as he entered the shanty again. “I took some pictures of that, too, then chipped it open. Good reminder to check our vents when we get home. Guess that means Abner is in the clear.”
For intentional murder, most likely. Manslaughter was still a possibility if Benji didn’t pull through. We’d deal with that later, though.
“Benji needs oxygen.” We couldn’t take him straight outside. The wind chill was too dangerous. “Let’s get him closer to the door. Then help me put his jacket on him.”
Tripp hooked his arms beneath Benji’s, dragged him across the RV, and positioned him with his head closest to the open door. Cold air was pouring in and hopefully blowing the carbon monoxide out of the shanty. Rolling Benji side to side, we got his jacket on him, and then Tripp went to move the truck closer. Twenty yards wasn’t that far, but Benji wasn’t exactly a little guy, and I didn’t want to carry him across the ice.
By the time the truck was at the door, Jola was back on the talkie. “Drake is going to run over to Unity. The power is probably still out, so he’ll grab oxygen canisters and other supplies and meet you at his cottage.”
She gave me directions to Drake’s place, which wasn’t far from where she lived, and a two-second update on our other patient. “No change, still sleeping.”
I thanked her for her help and then Tripp grabbed Benji’s torso and I took his legs. Halfway to the truck, Benji started coming to.
“What happened? What are you doing?” he mumbled and then groaned. “My head is killing me.”
“Don’t fight us,” Tripp ordered when he tried to twist free. “We’re getting you to help.”
Benji was still too out of it to walk but had at least stopped trying to get away. While Tripp got him situated inside the truck, I went back to the shanty to make sure there was nothing I’d missed. I didn’t really think Abner was guilty of anything nefarious and couldn’t find anything that made me believe differently. It was simply a prank gone bad. Thankfully it hadn’t gone from bad to deadly.
By the time we arrived at Drake’s cottage, with Schmitty’s he
lp, of course, Drake was ready and waiting for us.
“He’s lucky you got to him in time. How long had he been in there?”
I shook my head. “No idea. Bee says he usually goes around nine at night.”
Doing a quick calculation, Drake estimated, “He might have been out there for as many as ten hours. How is he still alive? Carbon monoxide in a space that small should have killed him hours ago.”
“There was air coming in through the fishing holes,” I explained. “We found him on the ground, facing one of them. Maybe he was getting enough fresh air from there?”
Drake shrugged. “I’m not one to try and explain the mysterious. Whatever happened, he’s alive. I’ll get all the oxygen into him I can. He’ll need to go to the hospital for testing once the storm clears. There are a number of long-term problems he could suffer.”
“Like what?” Tripp asked.
“Brain damage is obvious,” Drake listed, “ or his heart could be affected as could various other organs.”
Tripp looked at me. “I’m guessing Abner may not be so eager to press trespassing charges now.”
“Are you set?” I asked Drake. “Anything else you need that we can help with?”
Drake shook his head. “He’s breathing on his own. Oxygen is the key thing. You want me to give Bee a call?”
I debated that. “I told her we’d stop back once we found him. I’ll give her as many details as I can and then have her call you for the medical update.”
Drake nodded at Benji, lying on his sofa with the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. “That’ll give a little time for him to improve. It’s always nice to have positive things to tell a worried spouse.”
By the time we left Drake’s cottage, the wind seemed to have died down some.
“It’s a short reprieve,” Schmitty called down from the cab of his truck. “Radar shows a fresh round will hit in about an hour before it passes completely sometime overnight.”
“We need to stop back over at the Wallaces’. You can head on home if you want.”
“I’m here and yours until you tell me we’re done.”
I placed my palms together and gave him a little bow of thanks. A habit I picked up from Morgan and Jola.
“Unbelievable how fast the roads drift over again,” Tripp grumbled as Schmitty pushed a mound out of our path. “Talk about job security for plow drivers.”
“This is why we tell people to stay off the road in this kind of weather unless it’s an emergency. And running out of salsa doesn’t count.”
Tripp glanced at me. “Let me guess. A salsa emergency actually happened?”
“The guy’s heart was in the right place. His girlfriend was in the third trimester of her pregnancy, and her cravings for spicy food were making them both nuts. Not only did he not go home with salsa, he had to pay for a new rear quarter panel on her Jeep when he spun into a traffic sign.”
Tripp winced. “Ouch.”
“Lucky for him we didn’t charge him for the sign.”
It was a short drive from Drake’s place to the Wallace cottage. Bee had the door open before we climbed the steps.
“Did you find him? Did you find my Benji?”
We stepped inside, staying in the entryway this time.
“We found him.” I didn’t want to say he was or would be fine because that wasn’t a given yet. I told her first that he was with Drake getting oxygen.
“Oxygen?” she blurted. “Why on earth does he need oxygen?”
Tripp and I took turns recounting the details. I focused on Benji and what had happened to him. Tripp told her about the furnace and the vent icing shut.
“That RV looks to be top quality,” Tripp explained. “Unfortunately, in this kind of weather, it doesn’t matter how well a place is made.”
“Mother Nature has her way,” Bee mumbled numbly.
“She does.” Tripp put a hand on her shoulder. “Like Jayne said, Benji’s getting treatment. Drake is a very skilled and capable nurse.” As an afterthought, he added, “I’m going to check your furnace vent before we leave. We don’t want anything happening to you.”
She softened but still seemed to be in a daze as she mumbled, “Such a good man.”
I smiled, agreeing with her. “Speaking of you, are you doing okay on your own? Are you able to get around or do you need help?”
Bee glared at her offending body part. “I’ve got it wrapped and have been icing and elevating it since you left. The bright side to this black event is that I realize I need to take better care of myself. Both Benji and I do. We need to be healthy and strong in case things like this happen. How am I supposed to take care of him if I’m hobbled?” She held her left hand in the air and placed her right over her heart. “I vow to wear my ankle brace all winter. And as soon as Benji is back on his feet, he’s in for some changes. More vegetarian meals. Less sugar. And he’s going to have to limit those pre-dinner cocktails.”
Tripp’s eyebrows shot up. “Just a suggestion, but maybe one change at a time.”
Bee propped her hands on her hips. “He’ll eat what I put in front of him. And he’ll like it.”
I looked up at Tripp and winked. “I’m grateful for whatever Tripp puts in front of me. How long have you and Benji been married?”
“Goddess willing, it’ll be twenty-nine years next month. And I’m nowhere near done with him. Our youngest left our nest two years ago. It took a year to reclaim our coupledom, so to speak, but now that we have, we can’t imagine life any other way.”
Tripp had taken my hand after she made the comment about not being done with Benji. I leaned against him as she said the rest.
“You two . . .” Her eyes darted between us, and she gave a knowing grin. “You’ll see what I mean someday. After a couple of decades raising kids and dealing with the curves life puts in your path, it’s easy to lose track of what brought you together in the first place. It’s like a second honeymoon when it all clicks together again.”
Bee was floating on a cloud right now. Thrilled that we’d found her husband and that he was alive. I’d leave the possible long-term-effects conversation for Drake.
Her happy expression darkened a little. “What about Abner? Will he be in trouble for this? And yes, I know my husband was told to stay out of there. By both Abner and me. Thinks he’s so clever.”
I couldn’t tell if she wanted Abner to suffer consequences for this or not. And I wasn’t sure if the “thinks he’s so clever” comment was about one or both of them.
“We found Benji in time, and I don’t believe Abner intended for him to get hurt. There was pre-meditation involved by messing with the door latch, however.” I motioned toward the Kramer house next door. “I’m going to pop over there and have a little talk with him next. You should give Drake a call to get an update on your husband. As soon as an ambulance can get here safely, Benji will need to go to the hospital for further evaluation.”
Bee nodded. “I think I’ll send Abner the bill for medical services.”
Maybe with a discount for trespassing. There were two guilty parties involved with this case, after all.
“I’m going to check her furnace vent,” Tripp told me when we left the cottage. “Then I’ll wait in the truck for you. Abner won’t need an audience for this.”
“What if I want a little backup? Reading old guys the riot act isn’t my favorite thing.”
Tripp pulled his balaclava down, exposing his face, and kissed the tip of my still-covered nose. “First, Abner isn’t that old. Second, you can handle anything.”
Grinning over his confidence in me, I made my way through the drifted snow to the Kramer cottage. They must’ve been watching out the window because Gail opened the door as I reached out to ring the bell.
“Was he there?” Abner blurted from across the living room the second I stepped inside.
“He was—”
He pumped a fist in the air. “Got him! Told you he was using my shanty. And without my permission. Did y
ou write that citation?”
It was hard to not smile at this man. Both of them were like pesky little boys who couldn’t stop one-upping each other. The problem with one-upping was that you could only go up so far before things started spiraling back down. “Abner, why don’t you have a seat. You too, Gail.”
At my serious tone, the couple looked at each other, the sparkle gone from Gail’s eyes. Abner’s celebratory nature faded quickly as well.
“What happened?” Gail asked as they sat side by side on the sofa, hands locked together.
I took off my boots and sat across from them in a nearby chair. They both went pale as I filled them in on all the details including the possibility of long-term brain, heart, or organ damage.
Abner’s color returned, and he started shaking his head toward the end of my speech. “No. My shanty is top of the line. No way that kind of thing would happen.”
“Well, it did,” I insisted, “and I’ve got pictures to prove it.”
“This is a design flaw,” he stated, pounding a fist on the sofa cushion. “Something like this shouldn’t happen. A person pays that kind of money for an RV, you expect everything to work as promised.”
He was getting worked up. I could sense a lawsuit in the works.
“A manufacturer can’t possibly account for every situation,” I noted, “but you probably should contact them about this. I’m not mechanical, but maybe there is something they can do about it. I’ll share the pictures I took with you.”
“They could install carbon monoxide detectors in every unit,” Gail suggested.
“That’s a great idea.” I paused before continuing. “I caution you about pushing this too hard, Abner.”
He shook his head hard. “Their design flaw almost killed my best friend.”
“That might be, but remember you disabled the door latch, which will probably void your warranty.”
All the bluster that had built up in him over the past ten minutes deflated in seconds. He sank back into the sofa and put his hands over his face. Gail offered him no comfort.
Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3 Page 60