Beaches, Bungalows, and Burglaries~ A Camper and Criminals Cozy Mystery Series

by Tonya Kappes

  I stood behind him and looked across the lake where there were a few men in scuba gear.

  “See those men?” He pointed to them. “And that backhoe?”

  I nodded like I even knew what a backhoe was but it was big and was dragging the front of its crane into the water.

  “While we’ve been in here talking and having coffee, those men got in and looked around. Now that they are finished, the backhoe will pull up anything and everything. Like a gun,” he said with a coolly impersonal tone.

  It became apparent that he wanted to keep me busy while they did all this work without telling me and I remember some stuff like warrants on those TV shows.

  “I own this campground and I don’t think I gave you permission to do that.” I played hardball right back to him.

  “So you do have an issue or you threw that gun into the lake after you shot him.” He pulled another paper out of his pocket. “You don’t think I came here without a warrant, do you?”

  He flicked it open with one hand and gave it to me.

  “Don’t underestimate me. I might live in Normal and have a camper here, but I’m pretty smart.” He tapped his temple. My like for him turned into an instant distaste of him. “Mae West, don’t leave town.” He stepped out of the Rv. “Oh, one more thing.” He held the pen up in the air. “I’m gonna need to see your phone records.”

  “I’ve got nowhere to go and no one to call.” I grabbed the handle. “See you later Detective Hank.”

  “Detective Sharp,” he corrected before I dragged the door in, trying to slam it, but it didn’t happen.

  I fell where I was standing. The tears stung the lid of my eyes. I’d tried so hard over the past few months not to cry or break down. As the tears streamed down my face and the sobs started shortly thereafter, I realized I wasn’t crying for the fact that I was the FBI’s number one suspect.

  As much as I wanted to continue to hate Paul, I never wanted to see him dead. That was the last thought I remembered having before I feel asleep from exhaustion.

  SIX

  It wasn’t the banjo or the cheering that should’ve woke me up, it was the saliva that’d been

  pouring out of the corner my mouth that made me open my eyes. I blinked a few times and my reality had come back to me. Only, it’d gotten dark, my stomach was growling, and my hair was plastered to my cheek. Not a pretty sight.

  “Become that girl you used to be.” I propped myself up on the floor where I’d fallen from my crying spell from earlier today with a little more rest in my bones. “You are used to living on your own. You’ve only been with Paul five years. What’s your problem? Find that girl.” I demanded of myself.

  The pep talk was good until I noticed the stained spots along the bottom edge of the RV couch and dirt in all the corners.

  “Okay. So I’ve never been the best at cleaning, but I can do this.” I said and pushed up to stand.

  It was that moment that I knew I was on my own. Before Paul floated up dead, I really hadn’t grasped the thought that he wasn’t coming back. Of course, I divorced him, but there was a tiny bit of hope that all of this was somehow going to work its way out and he’d come back with a really big excuse as to why they thought he’d done it, plus give everyone back their money. His dead body confirmed the finality of it for me.

  By the sound of it, there was a party happening in the campground. I looked out the window and caught myself smiling when I noticed a few campfires dotted around the park. There was some banjo music, a little singing, and a lot of laughter. I sure could use some of that. The cleaning was going to have to wait. Besides, I didn’t even have anything to clean with. I’d been able to make do with one roll of toilet paper and a few groceries that’d now gone bad from me not hooking in the electric plug. But, tomorrow was a new day and I was going to make a plan. I always did.

  I headed back to the bedroom and grabbed a sweatshirt from the rest stop bag I’d purchased when I rolled over the Kentucky boarder and threw that on. I’d not gotten into the storage unit where Dottie said she’d put the boxes that were shipped from Stanley. I’m sure there were clothes in there for me wear. Going to get them needed to be put on my to-do list.

  On my way to the front of the RV, I stopped in the small bathroom and bent down to look in the mirror while I brushed my hair. There was a knock on the door.

  “I’ll be right there,” I called and gave myself a good once over before I flipped the bathroom light off and headed to the door, sure it was Dottie Swaggert. Besides Henry, she was the only person I knew in the campground, but I was determined to change that.

  “Can I help you?” I asked the young woman at the door.

  “I’m Betts Hager and I’ve come with welcome food from the Normal Baptist Church Women’s Group.” She held out a casserole dish. I also spotted two brown bags on the ground next to her.

  Secretly I wondered if she were going to offer up her cute cowboy boots. There was a jealous ping in my soul as my eyes scanned over her white off-the-shoulder pheasant top with a few bright flowers embroidered across the top. She tucked the front of the shirt into a pair of skinny jeans. She had the cute brow wavy chin length hair and blunt bangs, which made me even more envious because I could never get my curls tame enough to wear bangs.

  “I think I’ve heard of you from the gals at the laundry mat.” I opened the door wide. “Come on in.”

  “Grab those bags, please.” She pinched a smile.

  I grabbed them and held the door open for her.

  “Let me tell you,” she walked up the steps and into the RV. She looked around and her scared look didn’t go unnoticed. “You won’t find no better gals to chit-chat with than The Laundry Club. Now, where do you want these?”

  “Here is good.” I put the brown bags down on the kitchen table and patted it. “It smells so good and I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for this.”

  I started to laugh and poor Betts looked at me like I was a fool.

  “You’ll find some cleaning supplies in one of the bags.” She continued to assess my cleanliness. At some point, I was going to have to take that seriously, because there was no way I could even begin to let Stanley bring potential buyers around right now.

  “You don’t understand.” I shook my head as I continued to laugh and point at the refrigerator. “I had no idea I was supposed to plug in electric cords, then the cop who thinks I killed my ex,” I bent over laughing, “he actually took time out from interrogating me to show me how.”

  When I stood back up, tears were streaming down my face and Betts’s jaw was practically on the floor. Apparently, she didn’t think it was as funny as I thought it was.

  “I’m sorry.” I ran my hand through my curls and swallowed hard. “I’m thinking I’m having a nervous breakdown.”

  “Well then.” She perked right up. “I’ve got just what you need.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a cast iron skillet.

  “I’ve never seen one of those in person.” I took it from her and surprised how heavy it was.

  “And we need these, these, and these.” She pulled out chocolate chips, marshmallows and graham crackers. She headed to the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “You’ve got dessert and they’ve got the food.” She pushed the door open and when I hesitated, she stuck her head back in the door. “You comin’?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded not really sure what was going on, but I was hungry, and I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. At least, according to Detective Hank.

  She hurried down the gravel road and over to one of the fire pits with the sweets. I followed behind her and was met with several people with smiling faces. They all seemed to know each other and I was happy to see that a few of them were Dottie, Abby, and Queenie.

  “Well, if it ain’t Mae West.” Queenie grinned. This time she was wearing a jogging suit minus the head band. “Whatcha got there?”

  “We’ve got skillet s’mores.” Betts reach
ed over to get the skillet from me.

  “Oh, those are my favorite.” Abby took the ingredients from Betts.

  “Since you brought a dessert, you get to go around to all the campfires with a tin plate.” Dottie handed me one with dents all in it. “Fill it up with all the good food and dessert after.”

  I stood there in amazement of their kindness to a stranger that had not been quit as giving as them.

  “I didn’t know you two lived here.” I looked at Queenie and Abby.

  “We don’t.” Abby shook her head. “We just came for the food.”

  “Go on now and make you a plate before them Randal boys get here. They’ll eat everything after they get home from whatever sport they’re playing this season.” Dottie shooed me towards the burning fire closest to us.

  I didn’t know who the Randal boys were so I’d have to look on the list Dottie had given me earlier of long-time campers to see the exact location of their RV. I hurried around the lake and by the time I’d made it back to where I’d started, my plate was full and so was my heart.

  “Are you okay?” Betts asked after I’d finished my plate full of food, sinking into one of the camping chairs where you just melt right on down in to.

  “I’m great and full. Why?” I asked her. The fire flickered in front of us.

  “Because you are smiling. A far feature from when I came to your door earlier.” She snapped a graham cracker in half and dug it into the s’more dip that was in the cast iron skillet over the fire.

  “You know, when I pulled into the campground this morning, I thought my life was just over. When in reality, I think it’s just beginning.” I couldn’t get over how these people had just accepted me into their community after what Paul had done to them. “I’m sorry for what Paul did to the campground and the people who live here.”

  All the gals from The Laundry Club smiled.

  “I’m going to do my best to clean it up and make it a great place again. I know it’s going to take money and I don’t have it, but I’ll take a side hustle to help.” I nodded.

  “I could use someone to help shelf the library books. I can’t pay much, but it’s something.” Abby offered.

  “That sounds perfect.” I said. “Is there one of those dummy books for RV owners?”

  “I think I can grab some books for you.” Abby took a graham cracker and dipped it into the skillet with the melted chocolate chips and marshmallows.

  “I can help clean up your RV and, on a budget,” Dottie said. “It’s a mess.”

  I forced a smile, hoping she didn’t think her camper was what she’d called cleaned up.

  “I heard that you were going to host a fundraiser.” Betts stood up. “I can take you to a few stores around here and get some items for cheap.”

  “Sound perfect.” I was on the verge of crying over all of their generosity.

  “I’ll pick you up in the morning around 10 a.m. Now I’ve got to get home.” She bent over and hugged me. “My phone number is written on a piece of paper in one of the sacks. Call me if you need me.”

  “I guess we should give all our numbers to you,” Queenie offered.

  “Don’t worry.” Betts winked. “I wrote them all down.”

  “I’ll be. When you walked into The Laundry Club this afternoon, I never figured you to be one of us. I guess you are in our club now.” Queenie lifted her graham cracker. “Welcome, Mae West.”

  SEVEN

  It felt like I’d just laid my head down when the alarm went off. I’d set it for 8 a.m., which was the earliest I’d gotten up in a long time. But I had things to do before Betts picked me up to take me to town and if I was going to make good on my promise to clean up the campground, I needed to get a move on it.

  My Keurig brewed while I jumped into the shower. I threw on the only pair of jeans I had and a white v-neck T-shirt. It was a very minimal look that I could get used to.

  Without fixing my hair and pulling it up in a ponytail or putting on any more than mascara and a swipe of lip gloss, I had my cup of coffee and I was out the door with the papers Dottie had given me.

  The sun was shining, and it made for a perfect morning to walk around the campground and put a names from her paper with the campers. The first thing to being an owner, in my opinion, would be to get and know the people who were renting from you and see how much they owed.

  I knocked on the door of the Randal’s They had a yellow and white stripe camper with a little awning over a sitting area.

  “It’s early.” The man stood bare chest with his arms over his head in a big stretch and yawn. His brown hair was full and messy. “Can I help you?”

  “It’s 8 a.m. You look too old to be at school. What about work?”

  “Oh crap, are you with the CPS?” His brows furrowed and framed his crystal blue eyes. “Boys, get your clothes on. It’s time to get to school.”

  “CPS?” I asked. “No, I’m Mae West.”

  “Yeah and I’m John Wayne.” He cocked a sideways smile that I’d love to have smacked off his face if it weren’t charming.

  “According to Dottie’s paper, you must be Ty Randal. I’m Mae West the owner and I need to collect your lot fee.” I held the paper out to show him. “In fact, you’re a couple of months late and I’m going to have to mark right here that this is a warning.”

  “Whoa.” He put his hands out. “Listen, Mae West,” he strung out my name. “Dottie and I have an agreement. Go on and mark all you want, but it means nothing.”

  “The agreements Dottie made aren’t valid because she’s not the owner.” I turned around to face the campground. “Look at this place. It’s because of people not paying their lot rent that it looks like this.”

  I wanted to ask about his kids and his wife. I’d bet he laid around all day and made her work.

  “You’re the real deal. I heard about a new owner of something.” He gave me the onceover.

  “I’d like last month’s rent by the end of the week. If you don’t have it, then consider yourself evicted.” I turned on the toes of my shoes. “And they’ll be a new lease agreements to sign too,” I said over my shoulder and made a note in the file to look up lease agreements when I helped Abby at the library today. Then I saw a few of those pedal boats stacked up next to his camper along with stray balls and a few toys.

  “Get all of these things out of here too,” I said and kept going. “I’m trying to make this place presentable for the summer tourists.”

  I wasn’t going to say it was easy, but I’d made it to everyone’s camper but Henry’s. He didn’t owe me any money, but he did owe me an explanation to why Detective Hank thinks he could’ve killed Paul.

  Henry was outside picking up the pieces of charred wood from the fire pit and throwing them into another lit campfire. He had his kettle hanging overtop the flame.

  “Good mornin’,” he greeted me. He gestured to his fire. “Would you like a refill?”

  “I’d love one.” I walked over and held my cup out for him as he took the kettle off the fire and filled me up. “This is the best coffee. I had no idea how much better the food tasted last night than regular oven cooked food.”

  “Oh no, that means you’ve got the bug. Once you get bitten by the camping life, you can’t go back.” He smiled and sat down, patting the chair next to him. “Have a seat and tell me what you’ve been doing door-to-door.”

  “Dottie gave me the list of campers and what they owe. I can’t believe they’d not paid. Some have been months.” I sipped on the coffee. “If I can get the money out of them, that’d be enough to fix something around here.”

  My list of to-dos had grown and all of them were number one, so I’d just made a list of do’s and hoping to cross some of those off.

  “I saw you over at Ty Randal’s camper. That boy’s tougher than the back end of a shootin’ gallery.”

  I cocked a brow and wondered if Abby could also get me a dummy’s book for Henry’s language. What did he actually mean by what he said abou
t Ty? Was Ty mean? Someone I didn’t want to make mad?

  “What’s on your list?” He asked.

  “I’d like to get the lake cleaned up because in order to host a fundraiser, the lake is the big draw for everyone to gather around. Then the dock and maybe get a few fish to stock it,” I said as I put the comment about Ty out of my head.

  “That’s big order and a costly one,” Henry responded.

  I’d have to use his expertise on what the cost would be.

  “You’re looking at five-thousand dollars per acre to get it stocked. It’s a five-acre pond all the way around.” He used his hand to make a circle.

  “Gosh. That much?” I questioned. He nodded. “Maybe we can just have the fundraiser with music from some of the campers and food. So maybe we can just clean the lake and fix up the tiki bar.”

  “You’re lookin’ at about one-thousand dollars if you use Alvin Deters down at the Seed-N-Feed.” He gave a little more reasonable number which I figured I could just use some of that sock money.

  “Alvin Deters.” I wrote down his name in my file. “Good to know.”

  “I can get some things together to help fix up the tiki bar. It won’t be perfect, but it’ll be sturdy enough for a one-night fundraiser,” Henry said.

  “Henry,” I scooted up on the edge of the seat. “Can I ask you why you gave Paul your savings to invest?”

  “You know about that?” He asked.

  “My lawyer gave me a list of people Paul scammed and you were on there.” I wondered if he was going to tell me.

  Two police cars pulled into the campground.

  “Scammed? He swindled me out of the money,” he responded sharply, abandoning all pretenses and watched as the police cars pulled up to the crime scene. They’d not taken down the crime scene tape and we were careful to not go near it last night during the campfire supper.

  “He told me that if I gave him the money, he’d see to it that part of this campground was mine one day. We’d be partners, he’d said. Since I lived here, and he didn’t, I could be the silent partner and he’d funnel me the money.” There was a look of disgust that drew across this face as his nostril flared when he turned back to look at me. “It disgusts me. Do you know how hard it is to save two-thousand dollars?”