by Tonya Kappes
“It looks like we’ve got us a mess here, Henry.” I looked out over the lake.
I pointed to the broken wooden sign that said the pond was catch and release.
“I’m thinking I might catch an illness if I tried to fish in there.” I joked.
“Ain’t been fish in that water for a long time. This lakes been as useful as buttons on a dishrag.” His country accent came back in spades. He stood next to me and tapped the toe of his worn out brown boot on one of the popped up wooden boards that was one of many that needed to be hammered down or just replaced, but where I was going to get that money?
“Shocker,” I muttered in a sarcastic tone and looked out over the green sludge layer. “Do you know when you’re going to be able to take a look at the laundry room?”
“Oh, I’ve looked at them plenty of times. It’s the parts that I keep looking at that don’t come for free,” he said. “I’m not sure if Dottie told you, but there’s barely enough in the budget to keep the vending machine in Mountain Dew.”
“And that seems to be a priority around here.” I rolled my eyes, wondering if he was the one who taped the note to my door. “I’d like to see if we can get bottled water in there too.”
It was such a simple suggestion that I knew was going to meet with some hesitation.
“Around here, we don’t like to pay for bottled water when we can just turn on the tap and get it from there.” He shrugged. “Not having bottled water is what I call rich people’s problems and between you and me, we ain’t go those issues.”
I pinched a smile and bit my tongue, looking over the lake and wondering if that was the tap water they were drinking.
The sound of tires spitting up gravel underneath them caught our attention and both of us turned at the same time, which didn’t turn out to be a good idea.
“Henry!” I screamed as if he were going to be able to help me, but he was too busy trying to save himself from the crumbling dock.
With a big splash, both of us were waist deep in the musky, green water drenched.
“I guess I can fix the dock.” Henry wiped away something unrecognizable from his eyes.
“Why?!” I screamed at the top of my lungs and started to cry as I looked up to the sky.
I’d not even noticed the black car had stopped right in front of us and there were two men standing in front of us, on dry land, in blue suits and sunglasses. One was taller than the other.
“Help us,” I instructed them with my hand stuck out in front of me. “Now!” I insisted.
It took the men to find their footing before they seemed comfortable that they weren’t going to fall into the death lake, to get us out.
“Mae West.” The who pulled me out, took his glasses off exposing the most beautiful green eyes.
It caught me off guard because I’d never seen a black-haired man with sparkling green eyes. I wiped down my shirt and tried to push back my hair into place, but whatever was in that lake was like plaster and taped every single strand of my hair on my face.
“Do I know you?” I asked and decided to just go with a smile in hopes it was much prettier than my current appearance.
“I’m Detective Hank Sharp with the Federal Bureau of Investigation and when I’m not doing that, I’m a park ranger.” He pulled his fancy suit coat open and pulled out a badge. “This is my partner, Detective Elmo Burke.”
Mr. Burke didn’t appear to have the physique Detective Sharp had. He was shorter with small round glasses and bald on top but had hair on the side. He reminded me of George from Seinfeld.
“It was very nice of you to stop by and introduce yourself, but as you can see,” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Henry’s face. His jaw all flapped open. “We are a little busy. Right, Henry.”
He snapped his mouth shut.
“Detective Hank,” I started to say and put my hand out to thank him for dropping by.
“Detective Sharp,” He corrected me.
I lowered my eyes when I saw it wasn’t in good will that he was stopping by.
“I’m guessing you’re not with the welcoming committee. I’m not sure what you want with me. If this has to do with my ex-husband, you can call . . .” I was rudely interrupted by Detective Hank again.
“I’m very aware that you had nothing to do with his Ponzi scheme, but I’m not so sure you didn’t have anything to do with his escape.” He pulled his sunglasses off his face so smooth, that he looked like one of those cute TV cops.
“Escape?” I gulped and now wished I’d paid attention to the news report I’d seen on the TV at The Laundry Club.
“We figured he’d come here to see you since he never really wanted to sign the divorce papers and from what your lawyer told us, this piece of property is in your name. That’s why we think he’s here.” Detective Hank stared while the other guy started to walk around. “Have you seen him?”
Suddenly, I got nervous. Was he trying to read my body language like I’d seen done in movies. I began to pick at the stray limbs and other unrecognizable things that clung to my plastered head of hair.
“Trust me.” I put my hand on my hip after I realized I looked nervous. “I’d done killed the jerk if he’d showed up here.”
“Hank.” Detective Burke jutted his chin in the air gesturing Detective Hank over. “You stay there Ms. West,” he instructed me.
“Listen, this is my campground and if there’s something to see, I’m going see it.” I stomped on my way over before he could stop me.
“Is that a foot?” Henry asked over my shoulder.
“Foot?” I let out a nervous laughed. “No.” I leaned a little closer and it sure looked like something that could be a foot, but nah. “It’s part of the broken dock.” I nodded, completely convincing myself.
“I might not be real educated, but I’m thinkin’ it’s a foot that’s attached to a leg.” Henry curled his nose and then his brows rose as the leg floated to the top of the lake and was attached to a body. “Definitely a foot. And a leg.” His nose curled.
“Ahhh!” I screamed and jumped when the head of the body popped up like one of those red button things on a pressure cooker that let you know when it was finished cooking. “Paul,” I gasped bringing my hand up to my mouth.
FIVE
“You didn’t know he was here.” Detective Hank Sharp’s eye drew down on my face as I sat in the chair at my tiny kitchen table.
Out of the window over the sink, I could see the sheriff’s car along with a couple more of those black cars and what I guessed was the county coroner, who’d I’d yet had the pleasure of meeting.
“I told you before he floated to the top that I didn’t even know he’d escaped. I haven’t watched TV because it’s broke and I don’t read the paper.” I couldn’t believe it. Someone had gotten to Paul before me. I be darned. I couldn’t help but wonder which client of his got him.
“Has he called you?” Detective Hank flipped the light switch on and off a couple of times.
“No. I don’t know what’s wrong with this thing. It just stopped working.” I laid my head on the table and just decided to give up. Maybe jail was better than this. I was hungry, tired and broke. At least in jail there was TV, food and a bed.
“Do you have the battery plugged in?” Hank asked.
“Battery?” I questioned his RV skills. “It’s got plenty of gas.”
“I’m not talking about driving. I’m talking about all the other stuff.” He flipped his notebook closed and put it back in his jacket pocket.
“Other stuff?” I should’ve read the manual like Stanley told me. “Oh no.” I gulped. “Stanley was serious about an owner’s manual in the glove box. I thought he was joking.”
“Who’s Stanley?” Hank asked.
“My lawyer. Paul’s lawyer.” My head tittered back and forth. “I can’t afford Stanley anymore.” My face jerked up. “Oh no. Am I going to need a lawyer?”
“Did you kill Paul West?” He asked.
“No!”
I gasped. “Somebody got to him first,” I mumbled.
“Those are things you don’t say to me.” Hank rubbed his hands together. “Okay, where are your plugs?”
“Plugs?” He was talking some different language that I didn’t understand.
“Did you say the owner’s manual is in the glove box?” He asked. I nodded. He pointed towards the front of the camper. “Can I get it?”
“Sure. I have nothing to hide.” I shrugged and wondered what my first meal in jail was going to be because there was nothing here to eat and the cash I’d found in Paul’s sock drawer was dwindling fast.
The RV was a gas guzzler and I didn’t figure that into the grand scheme of my plan to take a vacation at Happy Trails and sell the thing. Boy, so much had changed in the last twenty-four hours, including Paul showing up dead.
“Did you find it?” I found the strength to get up and walk out of the RV where I found Hank plugging in the camper. “I had no idea.”
Hank looked at me. There it was. That look where people realized who I was and what I’d gone through. The sympathy look.
“If you show me, I’m a quick learner.” I wasn’t going to let this guy think I was an idiot. I had brains and I was pretty smart too. Being a kept woman gave people the impression I was ditzy. Granted, my husband embezzled millions of dollars and hurt a lot of people, but it wasn’t like I was doing his business.
He got up every morning, got ready for work, went to work and came home at a decent hour. There was nothing out of the ordinary from how he’d always been. Maybe our trips got a little more extravagant, but nothing that’d make it so noticeable. Still, I had a brain.
“Every time you go to a campground or stop, you should plug in so you have electricity. I’m assuming the toilet is also on the outlet.” Hank pointed to the different plugs.
Then he went into how many volts the RV had and how it had two electrical systems that fed different things like water heater, furnace, and refrigerator, plus most of the lights in the RV’s living space, water pump, your carbon monoxide detector, and the kitchen appliances. It was truly a house on wheels and everything like a house needed electric.
“That’s why the camper’s pay a lot fee.” He smiled and showed off some really pretty teeth. “As the owner or manager, you’re responsible for paying the electric bills along with any other utilities.”
I remembered seeing something about that in the files Stanley had given me.
“Thanks,” I said sincerely. “You’re the first person who showed me this.”
“If you’re not use to living in an RV, then you don’t know.” He pointed down the campground. “I own that blue one over there. I don’t live here full time, but my grandpa did and there’s so many memories from fishing and camping here, that I couldn’t get rid of it after the place started going downhill.”
“Oh.” I let out a big sigh and thought I should probably get some sort of RV reference book from the library. “Want to come in for a drink while I answer your questions?”
The neglect Paul had done at the campground really did extend generations and not just the present people here.
“I’m working,” he reminded me. “But I’ll take a coffee if you’ve got it?”
“I have a Keurig.” I nodded. “I don’t really know how to use it, but I can figure it.”
“I’ll show you.” He gestured for me to walk in front of him. My brows furrowed. “A southern gentleman lets the lady go first.”
“Even a lady that you think killed her con-ex-husband?” I joked and warmed inside with the southern manner thing. It was only something I’d heard about, but never really experienced. I thought it was just a bunch of talk, but it was real. With Hank anyways.
Once inside, he showed me how to use the Keurig, which I’d not been able to figure out on my own and we sat at the table.
“I’ll start from the beginning.” I took the first Keurig and gave it to him with a quarter pitcher of milk from the mini-frig that was curdled. He shoved it away. “Electrical thing.” I opened the trash and threw it in.
While my coffee was being made, I started to tell him about my relationship with Paul from the beginning and where we were today.
“You had no idea?” He asked a question I’d been asked a million times.
“Everyone asks me that. There wasn’t anything that pointed to it. Nothing was out of order, no big presents. Our lifestyle stayed the same. One trip a year. Out with friends weekly. I went to different committees and took tennis lessons.” Hearing the words come out of my mouth almost made me sick at how privileged I’d become. I hung my head and circled the top of the coffee mug with my finger. “I’m ashamed at how that all sounds. I’m smarter than that, and really should’ve look at the finances.”
“The last time you spoke to him?” He asked.
“I went to jail to see him after it happened because I was so shocked and I honestly thought they had the wrong guy. There was no way he’d done that. He was so giving.” My jaw dropped. “He gave a lot of money to charities and friends.”
“That’s probably where he’d funneled a lot of the money, but that’s not my department. I’m sticking with how he got out of prison and now dead in your campground. Plus, you said that you’d kill him if he did show up. He did show up. Dead.” Hank didn’t have to tell me things I already knew.
“I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know that he’d escaped.” I reminded him.
“We came here because we figured he’d show up here first since you were here.” He took that notebook back out of his pocket.
“Apparently someone else did too.” I sucked in a deep breath and looked out the window as the coroner’s car pulled off from where Paul had floated up.
“Which brings me to my next question.” Hank put his pen to the paper. “Do you have any clue who would’ve killed him?”
“Is this a joke question because I can think of a lot of people who’d love to get their hands around his neck.” I leaned my arms on the table.
“I have a long list of the people he ripped off.” He took another piece of paper out of his jacket. “They were actually on my list to go and see if Paul tried to contact them, but that’s when I thought he was an escaped convict.” He put the paper on the table and used his hands to straighten out the wrinkles best he could. “Do you recognize any names that he might’ve talked about or really just any memory of any of them?”
I took my time and read each name carefully.
“Grady Cox.” I pointed to his name. “Grady was a friend of Paul’s. I had no idea he and Ava had been one of his victims,” my voice dropped a volume. “I remember him saying they were horse people.”
I left the part out that Paul had also mentioned that the Cox’s were full of money.
“Believe it or not, most of his victims were everyday people like me and the campers here. Did you know that Henry Bryan was a client?” He flipped the paper around and scanned down it until he found Henry’s name and pointed to it.
“Henry Bryan?” I wasn’t familiar with the name.
“Henry your handy man.” He turned his head towards the kitchen window.
“I didn’t know his last name. How much did he give Paul?” I gulped knowing that by the appearance Henry didn’t look like he had much.
“He had two-thousand dollars in his savings. When he contacted Paul about some repairs, Paul showed up here.” Hank flipped through the notebook. “Everyone here was pretty excited because they thought Paul was taking it seriously.”
“How long ago with this?” I didn’t remember Paul making a trip to Kentucky.
“Three months ago. Paul was desperate for more cash and he took anything he could get his hands on, including Henry’s savings.” Hank’s story hurt me. Not about Paul coming here, but how he saw Henry as money and not the sweet man that he’d appeared to be.
“Do you think Henry killed Paul?” I asked. “I mean, he’d have motive if it was his life’s savings and he does know
this campground backwards and forwards.”
“Whoa, Nancy Drew.” He laughed and put his hands out. “You leave the questions and suspect list to me, unless you’re trying to put the hit on someone else?”
“I told you that I didn’t kill him. How was he killed?” I asked.
“One shot. Straight to the heart.” He pointed to his chest.
“Do you think it was quick?” I asked, not wanting Paul to be in pain.
“Does it matter? The man wasn’t a good person.” Hank sounded a little bitter. His chest heaved up as he took a big breath. “I’m sorry.” I apologize. “No one deserves to be murdered, but this is a little too close to home.”
“I understand,” I insisted archly. “It’s just that the person that did this, isn’t the person I fell in love with. I’m not saying I’m not bitter at him and was half joking when I said I’d kill him first, but he was always good to me and that had to be buried somewhere deep within him.”
“Well, I’m going to get out of your hair. But, I’ll be back.” He stood up and his six-foot three frame towered over me. “Don’t leave town.” he warned. “I’m a straight shooter and you are my number one suspect.”
“I. . .” I went to protest but he put his finger up to my mouth.
“Shhhh.” He silenced me. “Your motive is perfect. Wife used to the lap of luxury, suddenly ripped out from under her. Her big house, fancy car and rich lifestyle traded in for an RV where she has to move from her plush, gated community into a slum of a campground in a state she’s never been to. The husband shows up after escaping jail, thinking his wife is going to take him back with open arms and he’s actually met with an angry wife and the hole of a gun that puts a blow to his chest after a big fight between them. The wife got her revenge and how sweet it is,” he spoke with light bitterness.
“I don’t even have a gun,” my tone hardened as I retorted tartly.
“That’s why we are dragging the lake.” He pushed the RV door open.
I stood behind him and looked across the lake where there were a few men in scuba gear.