Ripped To Shreds

by Jeanne Glidewell

  Chapter 22

  I'd managed to return my hair to its normal color, and the curls had loosened up somewhat, but there was no growing back the hair on the right side anytime soon. As I've said so many times before, only our Lord could perform miracles, and once again I had a sneaking suspicion this prayer would go unanswered, as had many of mine in the past. No doubt God had some drowning kid to save, or some nursing home fire to rain out, and didn't have time to waste on a foolish woman old enough to know better.

  It dawned on me the only option I had now was to have the side Freak had left long cut short to match the other side. I'd never worn my hair that short in my entire life and was a bit apprehensive about how I'd look. It's not like I could change my mind once it was chopped off.

  Cora stopped by shortly after I'd dried my hair, and eventually got to the point she could control her laughter long enough to speak. "I cut Willie's hair all the time to save money, Aunt Rappie. I can trim yours up on the left side good enough to get you by until you have time to visit the salon again."

  "That would be wonderful, honey. But I guarantee you, I won't be returning to that salon ever again. In fact, if it looks passable enough when you're done, I might not need to go back to any salon." Like Cora said, if I could get by I'd rather save the money. She was definitely a chip off my old block. Besides, I'd already wasted sixty bucks on my hair that day.

  Cora did a bang-up job trimming my hair and making me look reasonably normal again. In fact, both Rip and Cora thought a short cut was an attractive style on me, and their praise sounded genuine. When I took a look at myself in the mirror, I had to agree. I thought I might just keep it short from then on. It would definitely be much easier to care for.

  Shortly afterward, Cora left and said she'd see us in a few hours at the ball field. I felt confident enough now to accompany Rip and Cora to Willie's game. But first, I wanted to place a call to the Browns. I wouldn't feel right until I issued an apology to both of them. However, I'd totally understand if they were unwilling to accept it. Although I can barely remember what we had for breakfast that morning, I recalled the number Cheri Beets had given to the wagon master of the Airstream caravan over the phone the day I'd walked into the office as she was taking a reservation. I think I subconsciously knew I might need to call it in the future. I picked up the iPhone and dialed 307-555-1022.

  Charly Brown answered after the first ring, no doubt assuming someone was calling to make a reservation. "Sweet Sixteen, may I help you?"

  "This is Rapella, the gal who you were kind enough to order the stuffed buffalos for."

  "Oh, it's you. What do you want now?" Charly's voice was icy and impatient. But then, I hadn't expected to receive a warm greeting from a woman I'd deceived so blatantly.

  "I want to apologize, and offer to pay for the stuffed buffalo toys if you were unable to cancel the order. I wasn't comfortable telling you we were staying at your competitor's campground, particularly after you told me how badly they'd treated you."

  "That wouldn't have bothered me," she replied in a wee bit friendlier tone. "Despite the Whetstones' business practices, we stay plenty busy. Besides, we were just as guilty as they are, you know. We were pulling some uncalled for stunts against them, as well. I'm just thankful I eventually offered Bea an olive branch and she and I had made amends before her unexpected death, or I'd have lived with the guilt forever. Truth be told, we are both better off if the two parks work together. That way I have a place to send folks who are needing a site when all ours are already full, and vice versa."

  That didn't sound to me like someone anxious to eliminate her rival business owner. We hadn't heard the two couples had patched things up prior to Bea's unexpected demise, and neither Boonie nor Leo had appeared as if they'd reached a truce the day our tires were flattened twice. Apparently there'd been a breakdown in the barbershop grapevine that had not been brought to Rip's attention.

  "But you told me the highway sign still chapped your hide," I said.

  Charly laughed. "It does, but since it hasn't stopped us from filling up every night in the last few months, I decided to just let it be. If our business starts slacking off again though, I'm going to approach Boonie about it. Like I said, Bea and I made amends, but that doesn't mean I cared for her much. She was a mean-spirited woman even before the war that erupted between our two campgrounds. And atonement didn't change her personality at all. Boonie, on his own, is tolerable. Not sure what he saw in her to begin with, truthfully. The ill-will between Boonie and Leo has lingered, but they seem content to just act as if the other one doesn't exist. If that works for them, I'm fine with it."

  Charly's comments confirmed that my observation about the two men was spot on. There'd been a definite chill between them the day Boonie drove Rip to Leo's campground. But I had a feeling I'd been too hasty in suspecting the Browns. After all, I'd felt an instant kinship with Charly the moment we met. She was kind, friendly, and accommodating; all the things her rival hadn't been.

  "I understand completely, Charly," I said, grateful she hadn't slammed the phone down in my ear, as I might have done if our roles were reversed. Even though I wanted to make amends, I didn't want to tell her my visit to her store had been a ploy to try and determine if she, and/or Leo, were guilty of murder. "That's exactly why I placed this call. I felt bad about what happened and wouldn't rest easy until I'd apologized. Please let me compensate you for placing an order of stuffed animals that I don't need after all. As it turned out, the family reunion was canceled when my cousin Benjamin became gravely ill."

  "Oh, my. I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?" Charly sounded genuine, and I had no reason to doubt her sincerity. I only wish I could be as forgiving as she was after someone had given me a bad shake the way I had her.

  "No, but I appreciate the offer. He's on the road to recovery now. So, figure out how much I owe you and I'll drop off a check."

  "Oh, heavens no! I was able to cancel the order with no problem. I do a lot of business with that company and they wouldn't want to lose me as a customer, I assure you."

  "I'm sure you're right. You and your husband are such nice folks. My husband and I will definitely stay at your campground the next time we're in the area visiting my niece." I was sincere about staying at the Sweet Sixteen RV Park the next time we visited the Beaufont family. It was a pretty, well-appointed park, and more importantly, it had a fence surrounding the perimeter to keep the bears, cougars, and other dangerous critters at bay. "Once again, I am so very sorry, Charly. I wish you and Leo only the best."

  "Thank you. I wish you and your husband the same. And, your cousin too, of course."

  "Who?" I asked, confused by her remark.

  "Your cousin, Benjamin. The one who's so sick."

  "Oh, yes, of course! Benjamin. My sick cousin." I hoped I didn't sound as much like a dingbat to her as I sounded to myself. It was mind-boggling to me how I could remember the Brown's phone number days later, and forget what I'd just said moments earlier. Once again, the prospect of progressive memory impairment left me shaken.

  "Sorry about the flat tires you experienced in our parking lot, too. It's happened several more times since your encounter with those young hoodlums. Leo just set up a new security camera and is waiting with bated breath for the culprits to strike again so he can identify them and nail the ornery jerks. He's trying to entice them by leaving his truck parked out front, directly across from the camera. Is your husband as conniving as mine, Ms. Bison?" I joined Charly in laughter at Leo's scheme to catch the tire-assaulters.

  "You can call me Rapella, dear," I said when our laughter ended. I'd forgotten she still thought my surname was Bison. If we did stay at the Brown's campground during our next visit to Buffalo, I'd have to remember to register us for a site as Rip and Rapella Bison. I'm sure Rip would be thrilled about being called Mr. Bison by the Browns for the duration of our stay.

  Charly's remark about the flat tires convinced me that having the air let out of them r
eally was just a prank carried out by a group of young punks with nothing better to do. I wasn't as certain the same young pranksters were responsible for the slashed-tires incident at the Rest 'n Peace park, however.

  "By the way," Charly said. "Have you had any luck determining who might have killed Bea?"

  "No, not yet. But we're getting close."

  "Hmm. Good to hear. Well, I best get back to work now. Thanks for calling, Rapella."

  One second after I ended the call with Charly Brown, the cell phone rang in my hand. I instantly recognized Ranger Rick's deep voice. "Were you anticipating my call? There was barely a full ring before you answered."

  "Yes. Did I forget to tell you that I'm physic? I've been talking to dead people like some of those scam artists on TV."

  "Ha! That must be interesting. So, have you spoken with Bea recently?" He laughed at his own light-hearted question.

  "Yes. Just this morning, as a matter of fact. She told me to get off my can and see that whoever killed her is punished accordingly." Even though it didn't feel right to joke about someone's death, it helped calm my nerves, and I imagined it did the same for Rick. We'd all been on edge since he'd discovered his former sister-in-law's body.

  "Gee, did she mention me by chance?" Rick asked. "I was never her favorite person, you know. Bea's probably still congratulating herself in heaven for managing to break up my marriage. And by the way, I still think her death was due to an animal encounter. I've seen or heard nothing to convince me otherwise."

  Rick had good-naturedly chuckled about my claiming to have spoken to Bea's spirit, but I could see through his levity. He was still hurt by Desireé's rejection. "Actually, although I'm positive Bea encouraged my wife to divorce me, I'm sure everyone could see our break-up was inevitable. We'd been growing more distant from each other for several years, so Bea probably did us both a favor. And I do appreciate that Desireé has remained close to my son, Ricky. His biological mother was killed in a car wreck when he was only three, and I took full custody of him afterward. But it was Desireé who became a bigger factor in his life than I was. Ricky could barely stand to look at his step-aunt, Bea, though. Bea would say things to my ex like, 'How long are you going to let that loafer walk all over you? Ain't it about time you shoved that deadbeat out of the nest?'"

  "Wow! Bea called your son, who's also her step-nephew, a loafer and a deadbeat?"

  "Those were some of the nicest things she called him. She also referred to him as a leach, a bum, a mooch, a lazy slackass, and worse."

  "Worse than a lazy slackass?" I asked. "Can it even get worse than that?"

  "Much worse. Her total disregard for Ricky kind of drove a wedge between the two sisters, after awhile. Desireé has always been very fond of Ricky. She practically raised him by herself because I was traveling all over the country for the U.S. National Forest Service. Being home with my family so seldom was a real bone of contention between us. It was only a few years ago I began my current job, which doesn't require any traveling."

  "You'd think after you landed a job that allowed you to spend more time with your family, your bond would grow stronger," I said.

  "Yeah, you'd think that, wouldn't you? Instead, once we were able to spend more time together, she realized she really didn't like having me around all that much. Truth is, I think it made us both realize just how far apart we'd drifted. I found myself wishing I was anywhere but home. It certainly wasn't a marriage made in heaven. We've stayed on good terms for the sake of the children, especially our eight-year-old, and actually get along better now than when we were married."

  "Sounds more like a divorce made in heaven to me." Then jokingly I said, "But enough about you. What was the reason behind your call?"

  "You are a hoot, Rapella. I pray someday I'll find the right one for me and have as strong of a union as you and Rip have." The longing in Rick's voice was undeniable.

  "You will, Rick. Have faith in the Lord and it will happen one day."

  "Thanks, Rapella. I have been praying for that very thing, and I hope you're right. But the reason I called was to see if you two were available to check the camera for any beneficial photos. Purely by accident, we found and confiscated another trap this morning. It was raining steadily and the trap was camouflaged so well we didn't even see it until a fellow ranger stepped right into the middle of it. Had it not already been triggered, and the jaws released, he'd have been badly injured. So, in other words, time is of the essence."

  "Oh, my goodness! I'm so glad your fellow ranger wasn't hurt. And also that you guys found it before another animal was maimed or killed."

  "I'm afraid we were too late for that," Rick said, before continuing in a rueful tone. "There was a lot of blood on and around the trap, I'm afraid. We don't know for sure if it was a bear or not, but that's why it was already disarmed when Roger stepped into it. We know an animal suffered a lot due to that damned trap. But at least it was able to free itself somehow."

  "Oh, no! You are absolutely right, Rick. Time really is of the essence. We need to capture the responsible party before another animal is victimized. Rip walked up to the office to pay lot rent for two more weeks. He should be back any time. Come on over and we'll be ready to head out when you get here."

  "That's terrific! I'm on the way!"

  Rip walked in the door just as I ended the call. I told him the ranger was coming over, and rehashed my conversation with the man. Then Rip told me he'd chatted with Boonie for a few minutes. The campground owner had just gotten off the phone when Rip arrived. Boonie was clearly stressed out by whatever discussion had transpired during the call. When Rip noticed Boonie's tenseness, he inquired about his state of mind and asked if there was anything we could do for him.

  "No, but I surely do appreciate the offer. I'm getting by, but it hasn't been easy. I've been carrying around a lot of guilt," Boonie said. He then asked Rip if he could tell him something in confidence, to which Rip naturally agreed. Rip has always been the kind of guy people opened up to, especially when something heavy was resting on their shoulders.

  To Rip's surprise, Boonie confessed to him about his affair with Janelle Tyson-Simms. He explained that he and Bea had drifted apart to the point they couldn't exchange a kind word with each other. Working side-by-side for many years had taken a toll on their relationship. While Bea was alive, he'd had no qualms about cheating on her, but overpowering guilt was eating him up now that she was gone. He'd said to Rip, "I've tried to break it off with Janelle, but she's persistently calling and ragging me. Says I owe it to her to put a ring on her finger, which was not an option that was ever on the table. She shows up here at the campground nearly every day now and argues with me in front of my customers. Yesterday she came storming in my house, screaming that some crazy woman at the hair salon told her the detectives think that she, I, or both of us, intentionally killed my wife, which couldn't be further from the truth."

  "I can definitely see why you're upset, buddy," Rip had said when he was finally able to get a word in edgewise. But his window to speak had closed quickly as Boonie began to speak again.

  "Now I'm scared to death I'm going to be hung for a murder I didn't commit. Janelle's a bit flighty, but I seriously don't think she'd do something that heinous, either."

  "I'd hope not. Running around with someone else's spouse is heinous enough," Rip had replied. According to Rip, Boonie had hung his head in shame for a few moments before responding.

  "I know you were in law enforcement your entire career, Rip. Do you have any advice on what I should do?"

  Rip had convinced Boonie there was no truth at all to what the crazy woman had said to Janelle. Naturally, he didn't tell the tormented man the crazy woman was his wife of fifty years. About Janelle's persistence, Rip suggested a restraining order, but warned it was only as good as the paper it was written on. It was often like trying to plug a leaking dam with a wine cork, he'd told Boonie. Rip also advised him not to take Janelle's calls and have his small staff tell
her he's away from the campground when she shows up uninvited. Eventually, she'd probably tire of the process and leave him alone. Finally, he'd truthfully told the distraught man, "Unfortunately, it's a situation you've brought upon yourself. Once you've made your own bed, it often becomes difficult to lie in, and on occasion, even more difficult to get out of."

  I felt sorry for Boonie even though I was disgusted by his self-professed infidelity. It was one of those unique situations where you'd like to sympathize with someone while simultaneously christening their noggin with a champagne bottle.

  "Oh, and by the way, Boonie told me it didn't make it any easier that Bea disappeared on her birthday."

  "Oh, my! That's so sad. I do recall her telling me her birthday was in April, hence the big honking diamond in a bracelet her grandmother gave her that she told me she always wore for luck." The irony of my last remark to Rip made me wonder if she'd forgotten to put her lucky bracelet on the day of her disappearance.

  Before we knew it, Rick had arrived. The three of us began our hike to the site where we'd set up our game camera. The rain had subsided, but a heavy mist still permeated the air. The ground was saturated enough to be a nuisance. First, the soles of my hiking boots got caked with mud, and then the wet leaves adhered to the muck. As my boots got heavier and heavier, each step became more taxing than the last.

  All the animals in the forest must have taken refuge from the rain or at least hunkered down to lessen its effect on them. We saw no signs of life, not even a bird. The silence was deafening, almost eerie. Rick suggested we stop and take a breather at the same location we'd taken a break the day before. He recommended I make a nature call, if necessary. I didn't feel as though I needed to go, but knowing I wouldn't get another chance any time soon, I took his advice. I walked down the path and crouched next to the tree at the exact same spot I'd used previously. I knew this to be true because beside the tree lay the wad of biodegradable tissue I'd used the previous day, and the nearby pile of bear poop was even more pungent.