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Bite-Sized Bakery Cozy Mysteries Box Set 2

Page 22

by Rosie A. Point


  “No, I don’t.” He made to slam the door.

  I pressed my hand to it and pushed, but he was much stronger than me and the door shut anyway. Buddy barked repeatedly, rising onto his legs, his hackles up.

  “Hey! Mr. Reed? Mr. Reed, open up, we just want to talk to Charlene.”

  The door slapped open and Van glared at me. “Shut that dog up!”

  “Tell me where Charlene is and we’ll be out of your hair,” I said, over Buddy’s tirade of barks.

  “I don’t know! I told ya, I don’t know. Snooping, sneaky women,” he growled, slamming a fist against the RV’s doorjamb. “Charlene left me, all right? I haven’t seen her since last night, and she’s probably not coming back. That suit you? Good enough excuse for her not being here? Now, get that dog off my property before I kick the three of you out of here.” He whacked the door closed.

  I backpedaled down the steps. Buddy wouldn’t quit barking, so we guided him back to the road where he finally calmed down enough to lick Bee’s hand and wag his tail.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked.

  “Gone. Left him.”

  “That doesn’t help us. We can’t talk to her about the letter now,” I said.

  Bee unfolded it again and scanned the contents, her hazel eyes narrowed.

  “I just don’t get it. Why would she have left so suddenly? She was freaked about what she heard on the day of the murder but… you don’t think the police took her away, do you? Maybe Van’s just saying she left him because she got arrested and he’s embarrassed or worried that people will panic and leave?”

  Bee didn’t answer. She was still glued to the page.

  “Unless… what if he’s actually the murderer?” I whispered, horror taking me over. “What if he killed Ronald and he killed her too because she knew something? Or because of the affair? Except, it doesn’t seem like they were having an affair, does it?”

  “Ruby,” Bee said, handing me the letter. “Ruby, remember when we were in the woods on the first day and we found that cabin?”

  “Oh yeah.” I’d forgotten about it after the craziness that had ensued. “Wait, you don’t think that place has something to do with it?”

  “I don’t know, but it was a perfectly good cabin to live in and Charlene mentions meeting in the woods here, and this mystery person… What if they had something to do with it? Or what if that cabin is somehow involved? It’s a weak connection but it seems suspicious that a murder would happen out in the woods, and that cabin we found isn’t on the campgrounds map.”

  “Bee,” I said, “I think you’re onto something.” I had the tingles in my tummy that told me we were close. Or we’d found a clue.

  Either way, it was worth a shot. Now that Charlene was gone—or had been made to disappear—we didn’t have any other leads to explore.

  12

  How we’d gone from avoiding getting involved in the case to snooping around the crime scene was… complicated. Or simple, depending on which way you looked at it. I was curious, Bee was tenacious, and that was a killer combination.

  Eugh, killer?

  I held the end of Buddy’s lead and stood nearest the trees and furthest away from the spot where we’d found Ronald’s body. Bee, however, had her flashlight out, even though it was mid-morning, and her gaze fixed on the scene.

  “It can’t be a coincidence that the crime scene is on the same side of the campground as the cabin,” I said, mulling it over out loud. “Just further down, right.”

  The bonfire area and the wooded spot where we’d found Ronald’s body was parallel to where we’d entered the forest behind our lot.

  “If there’s anyone living in the cabin, they would have had access to this area.”

  Bee nodded and crouched low, scanning as she waved her phone this way and that. “Look there, see?”

  “What?”

  “Footprints. And doesn’t that dirt look disturbed?”

  “That’s probably because of the police,” I said.

  “True. But still. Something to make a note of.”

  The police tape had been taken down… well, I wasn’t sure when, and it seemed as if they’d cleaned up the crime scene thoroughly. Apart from a few odd tracks here or there and a horrible stain in the grass that I didn’t want to look at too closely.

  “I wish we knew what type of gun they’d used,” Bee said. “Might narrow things down a bit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Was it a hunting rifle or a pistol? Had to be something small if no one heard except for Charlene.”

  I shivered. If only we could find Charlene and ask her—not that we’d be able to identify which gun it had been by the sound it made, but still. It would’ve been nice to ask.

  Charlene had treated Buddy badly and possibly lied to us, but what if she was dead? Another victim of… whoever had killed Ronald. Maybe it was this mystery meeting person she’d referred to in the letter.

  “There’s nothing else. Just disturbed dirt and footprints. And the blood. Hmm.”

  “Good, then we can move on?”

  “You think finding the cabin will be infinitely better than checking out the crime scene? What if the murderer is in the cabin?” Bee asked, rising from her crouch.

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Regardless, Bee and I set off through the trees, Buddy snuffling the ground and occasionally stopping to lift his leg and mark his territory. He didn’t bark or go crazy like he’d done earlier in the day—probably because he wasn’t being confronted with a man who’d put on too little clothes and too much attitude.

  The rush of water grew louder the closer we got to the riverbank, and soon, the gaps between the trees grew wider. We kept to the forest, though, just in case there was someone out here. It would be easier for them to spot us on the riverbank.

  “There.” Bee pointed.

  Right along the bank sat the cabin we’d found the last time. It was in a state of mild disrepair, but it might have been cozy with a little TLC. We stayed back in the trees, though my curiosity had grown tenfold in the last two minutes.

  “Well, we came to check it out, didn’t we?” Bee asked, gesturing to the log cabin. “Looks like some of the windowpanes are broken. If the door’s locked, we can force our way in.”

  “But what if someone… lives there?” After all that was the reason we’d come—our suspicion that Charlene had wanted Ronald to meet with the mystery person. And this seemed to be the only place that they might meet or that person might be hiding.

  “Then we’ll talk to them. They might not be the—”

  Heavy footsteps thudded through the undergrowth nearby, and Bee snapped her mouth shut. My heart leaped into my throat.

  A grizzly man exited the trees and made for the cabin. He wore a long raincoat and had a bushy, dark beard. His eyes were large and nut-brown, set quite far apart in a face that was leathery, not with age but from being assaulted by the elements.

  He was giant. And he stomped up the front steps of the cabin and removed a key from his pocket. He inserted it into the lock, kicked the door once, bashed it again with his shoulder then entered and banged it closed.

  Bee and I let out breaths we’d been holding.

  “You can’t tell me he doesn’t look terrifying,” I whispered. “I bet he’s got a hunting knife or a gun or something hidden under that coat.”

  “Who wears a raincoat when it’s not raining?” Bee asked.

  “Exactly. He’s hiding something.” I paused. “What should we do?”

  “We could question him.”

  “Oh sure, question the forest man who’s twice our sizes put together.”

  “Don’t judge a book by it’s cover,” Bee said, but she didn’t sound so sure of herself. She tapped the tip of her nose. “This is a strange circumstance. Did you bring your Taser?”

  “No. I left it in the truck.”

  “Mace?”

  “Truck.”

  “So, we’re not prepared at a
ll,” Bee sighed.

  “We could always tell Buddy to attack him if he tries anything,” I said, and we both looked down at the gorgeous Yellow Lab. He wagged his tail at us, his tongue lolling out of the side of his smiling mouth.

  “I’m afraid he’s not the attack dog type, Ruby.”

  “Or we could—”

  Buddy let out a bark that echoed out of the trees and reverberated across the river.

  “Shush,” I hissed, frantically. “Buddy, now’s not the time to make noise. There’s a murderer in that cabin.”

  “We don’t know he’s a murderer. He might just be a hidden resident of the campground. You know, a freeloader, sticking it to the man, Van.”

  “But what if he stuck a gun to—”

  Buddy barked a second time, and a third, and my heart bucked like a Bronco. My gaze flickered to the cabin and cold ice slipped down my spine.

  The giant bearded man stood in the window, staring directly at us, his lips peeled back over his teeth. Was it a grin? A grimace? I didn’t care to find out.

  “Bee!” I cried.

  She’d already spotted him too. “Run!”

  We took off between the trees, Buddy barking while he ran along beside us, completely unaware of the trouble he’d caused.

  13

  “Buddy, wait! Buddy, no!” I yelped, as the lead slipped from my sweaty palm. Running through the forest away from a murderer took it out of a girl. Buddy, however, was happy as a dog… well, a dog running through a forest.

  He darted off ahead of us.

  I sucked breaths into my burning lungs, my pace slowing, and an ache starting up in my thighs.

  Bee slowed too. “I—think—we—need—to—eat—less—macarons,” she gasped. “I—thought—I—was—healthy.”

  “More like—the—donuts.” That was the real problem. Donuts were fattier than macarons.

  We dropped to a brisk walk, both gasping for air, my cheeks hot as an oven after a long day of bread-baking. I rubbed beads of perspiration from my forehead, listening for Buddy’s barks over the pounding in my ears.

  “That way.”

  “We can’t be too far from the bonfire pit,” Bee said. “We’ve been running forever.”

  “Do you think he followed us?”

  Bee’s lips thinned. “I don’t want to think about it.” She was an ex-cop, and I’d never really seen her afraid. The last time there’d been a break-in at an inn, she’d run after the perpetrator. “I know when I’m outmatched, Ruby, and that man was huge.”

  I had to agree with her there. One of the biggest men I’d seen in my life. Good heavens, what was he doing out here in the woods? It had to be connected to the murder somehow. What if he was behind us, right now?

  I glanced nervously over my shoulder. Nothing but trees and the gentle rustle of leaves, the occasional chirp of a bird.

  Buddy barked somewhere up ahead, and Bee and I broke into a jog again.

  “Buddy!”

  “Buddy?” Bee’s echo was less frantic. “Here, boy.”

  We burst from the trees into the same circular clearing where we’d originally found Ronald’s body. Buddy stood over the spot where his body had once been, facing Lulu, who stood on the camp side under the trees, clutching a book to her chest.

  “Oh,” she said, over Buddy’s bark. “Hello.”

  Bee walked to the Labrador and took hold of his lead. She petted him and guided him toward Lulu. He growled once but settled after another quick pat on the head. The lack of barking left an awkward silence to be filled.

  “Hello,” I said. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Sorry,” Lulu said, “I didn’t know anyone would be... here.”

  What did that mean?

  “What does that mean?” Bee asked.

  “Nothing. Just that everyone’s at the camp. Look, I had to get away. The place is going crazy, right now.”

  “It is?”

  Lulu nodded, going all white around the lips. “Van is planning a party for this evening and he’s making everyone attend.”

  “A party?” I asked. “But Charlene…”

  “I know,” Lulu said. “She’s gone. Van said he kicked her out and he’s having a celebration tonight. It’s his ‘newly single’ party and everyone should attend. He’s going to give out free alcohol.” Lulu grimaced. “I don’t like alcohol, but a lot of the people in the campgrounds do. I think he wants to find a new woman, and since I’m the only one around here who’s not over sixty or married… I just had to get away.”

  “That’s not strictly true.” Bee nudged me. “Ruby’s single too.”

  “Bee.” It wasn’t a funny joke. Van was a terrifying man with an ego problem. And he’d told the campgrounds residents one story and us another. Charlene had either left him or he’d kicked her out or he’d done something else. The unthinkable.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Bee continued, directing the words at Lulu. “You wanted to get away because Van is being… disgusting, and you just happened to come here. To this very spot?”

  “What’s wrong with this spot?” Lulu asked. “It’s a free country. I’m allowed to walk in the woods and read my book.” Read her own book? There was something cringeworthy about that.

  “This is where we found Ronald’s body,” I said.

  Lulu’s indignation melted like butter on a hot griddle. “You—I—what? This is where…? I think I’m gonna hurl.” She pressed a hand over her mouth.

  “That’s right. This is the spot.” Bee folded her arms, still gripping the end of Buddy’s lead. Buddy’s doggy eyebrows lifted and settled as he looked from her to Lulu while they spoke. “And you just happened to be here so soon after the murder.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re insinuating—”

  “I think you do,” Bee replied.

  I squeezed Bee’s shoulder. Lulu was already upset, and I doubted an outright confrontation would force her into a confession. She’d already tried to pin the blame on Van and claim Charlene was having an affair with Ronald.

  “Lulu,” I said. “Why is it that you think Charlene was having an affair with Ronald? Did you ever see anything, or was it all rumors?”

  Lulu stared at Bee for a minute longer before turning to me. “I didn’t see anything, but Bubby told me that she saw them talking a lot at his camper. And that they looked mighty cozy. Hugging and stuff. So, yeah. And now Charlene is gone… What if Van did something to her?”

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” I said, but my words were drowned out by the loud booming of a speaker coming from the campground’s bonfire pit. The party was already getting started.

  “Ugh.” Lulu plugged her ears with pinky fingers, her hardback threatening to slip from her fingers. She walked past us and disappeared into the forest.

  “Let’s hope she doesn’t run into the man from the cabin,” Bee said, over the music.

  14

  “I can’t take it anymore!” Bee pushed herself out of the lawn chair and paced back and forth in front of our tent. Buddy was lying next to it, sleeping but occasionally opening and eye to let out a muffled bark. He was as unsettled as we were.

  The night had come, the stars sparkled in the sky, the moon cast its glow on the trail that led toward the offices and the exit to the camp. In the distance a bonfire crackled, people whooped and cawed and partied, and music thumped through the night. The same music that had started up early in the afternoon and hadn’t let up since.

  “I’m going to wring his neck,” Bee said. “If I don’t get a moment’s silence, I’ll wring his neck.”

  “Probably not a good idea to make threats like that around here.”

  “It’s the bass. The thumping. I can’t block it out!” She stuck her fingers in her ears and wiggled them around. “Nothing helps.”

  We’d had dinner about two hours earlier, and it was past our bedtimes. My eyes were sandy, and Bee’s were red.

  “I’ve got a set of earplugs you can use,” I said, and got
up as well. “They’re new. I bought them for the trip.”

  “But those are yours,” Bee said, rubbing her eyes. “I can’t take them.”

  “Bee, you need the sleep more than I do.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. Between the two of us, Bee was the one who liked to sleep late and spend extra time in bed. And if she didn’t get that, she’d wind up cranky as hades on fire in a pan full of bacon fat. Neither of us wanted to deal with that.

  She was too tired to argue, so I fetched my handbag from the front of the food truck and fished out the pair in their little plastic container.

  “You’ve just saved a life,” Bee said.

  “Van’s?”

  “Exactly.”

  She waved and retreated to the tent, yawning along the way. Hopefully, the earplugs would help. If they didn’t… well, I’d just have to deal with cranky Bee, potentially keep her busy on the truck so that I didn’t have to worry about her attacking Van, either physically or verbally.

  Bee zipped the tent closed from inside, and I settled back into my lawn chair. Buddy drifted in and out of sleep, but the longer I sat there, the more relaxed he became, and soon he let out little doggy snores, overpowered by the bigger snores from Bee in the tent.

  I hadn’t told her the reason I’d bought the earplugs—that when Bee was sleep-deprived she snored so loud, it had woken me up from the room over in the last inn we’d visited.

  I yawned.

  The RVs and campers and tents in the surrounding lots were all quiet. Almost everyone was at Van’s ‘newly single’ party, and those that weren’t had gone to bed, probably with pillows clamped over their heads.

  Bee and I had tried heading over to the bonfire to chat to people, but it was way too loud to interview suspects or talk about rumors. Besides, the people partying there weren’t interested in talking about the murder. They just wanted to have a good time.

 

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