by Maddy Hunter
“What do you care?” asked Grover.
“Well, if he gets bitten and dies from one of the diseases Tilly warned us about, we won’t be able to needle him at our next meeting for not reading the book. Watching him make up excuses is the best part of the entire evening.”
“I’m not seeing any mosquitoes,” Steele sang out helpfully. “In years when they’re bad, you can usually see ’em swarming around the front windshield, but I’m not seeing anything today. Not a one.”
Goldie smiled. “Oh, good. I have to agree with Orphie. As much as I dislike Thor, book club is much less boring when he’s there.”
I nodded toward the group. “Would the five of you like to stay in here until we get picked up? Steele, would you have any problem with that?”
“They can stay if they want. I’m not going anywhere. Gonna sit here, drink some coffee, and read my book.”
“You’re a reader?” Florence called out. “How wonderful.”
“What are you reading?” asked Goldie, deserting Grover to head to the front of the bus.
“Lemme dig it out.”
“Is it anything we’ve read?” inquired Orphie, popping into the aisle excitedly and pulling Florence out of her seat to investigate with her.
I smiled at the trio gathered around the steering wheel, then peered down the aisle at Grover and Ennis.
Perfect.
“This news about Delpha is terrible.” Ennis shook his head as I approached. “I could understand an accident, but this? This is beyond belief.”
“Hard to believe no one saw anything, isn’t it?” I commiserated. “You guys were in the museum. Was the hiking trail visible from there?”
The two men exchanged blank stares. “It might have been,” said Grover, “but I didn’t really notice.” He swiveled toward Ennis. “Did you?”
Ennis shook his head. “Nope. I don’t even know if the place had windows.”
“It was bright inside,” Grover recalled, “but to be honest, I can’t remember if the source was from overhead lighting or natural light. It’s getting harder to figure out what’s real and what’s fake anymore, especially with the new LED color temperature bulbs.”
Ennis shot him a droll look. “You probably could have figured it out if you’d stayed longer.”
“I stayed long enough.”
“Yeah, right. Until Alison left. If your goal is to stalk the girl, you’re doing an upstanding job of it.”
“For your information, I was not stalking Alison. My diuretic had just kicked into overdrive, so I needed to use the restroom.”
“Which one did you use?” I asked. “The one in the restaurant or the more public one by the express take-out place?”
He stiffened, spooling out his answer with some hesitation. “I’m…I’m pretty sure it was the one in the restaurant.”
“Well, you must have sneaked right by me because I was sitting in the restaurant foyer for about forty-five minutes and I never saw you.”
“You must have been distracted,” he shot back, his expression growing irritated. “Or, who knows? I could have come and gone before you got there. Or maybe I’m just not remembering correctly. Maybe I used the public restroom after visiting the museum and the one in the restaurant during dinner. I bet I’m just mixing them up.”
I smiled. And maybe the dog ate his homework.
“That hole in your alibi is so big, I could walk through it,” taunted Ennis. “Better think about lawyering up, Grove. Kitchen will have a field day with you otherwise.”
“Why should the lieutenant care about my bathroom habits? Delpha was alive when all of us went in to dinner, remember? So what I did or didn’t do after I left the museum is of no consequence, is it?”
Ennis lifted his brows. “It might be of consequence to Alison. Maybe she’ll decide to file a restraining order against you when Kitchen arrives.”
“That’s low.”
“I call ’em like I see ’em.”
“So what about your alibi?” bristled Grover, pivoting like a savvy political hack practicing avoidance tactics. “How much time did you spend looking at those old pictures in the museum?”
Ennis shrugged. “It had to have been a good long while because I remember looking at every exhibit. Must have been at least a half hour. Maybe longer.”
“Actually,” I said, hoping not to sound like a prosecuting attorney, “Osmond happened to mention that he saw you and Thor leave just a few minutes after Grover.”
“You left right after me?” hooted Grover. “Well, well, well. Looked at every exhibit, did you? I bet. For a nanosecond maybe.”
Ennis paused. “Osmond might have seen Thor and me leave, but he sure as hell didn’t see us leave together. Exiting at the same time is entirely different than leaving together.”
Sure it is. Like…having words come out of your mouth is entirely different than talking.
“You and Thorsen hooked up after the museum?” accused Grover. “Why would you want to go anywhere with him?”
“I didn’t go anywhere with him. Once we were out the door, he went his way and I went mine.”
“And where was that?” I prodded.
“Where did I go?” repeated Ennis. “Just…around. Explored the grounds. Wandered around the deck. Watched the fog roll in.”
“And you thought my alibi had a hole in it?” mocked Grover. “You better think about hiring your own lawyer.”
“I don’t think so.” He fixed Grover with a piercing look. “You said it yourself: Delpha was still alive when we sat down to dinner, so what difference does it make where I went?”
For two men who supposedly had nothing to hide, they sure seemed to be taking great pains to avoid transparency.
“Grover!” Goldie called from the front of the bus. “Come see what Steele’s reading. You’ll never guess, not in a million years. Hurry up. I’m dying for you to see.”
Grover executed a major eye roll before dragging himself out of his seat. “Coming, dear.” Then, to Ennis: “See what you’re missing by not having Lorraine on the trip with you? A word to the wise. Enjoy your freedom while it lasts.”
Which seemed like a pretty insensitive thing for Grover to say considering how upset Ennis was about his wife’s disappearance, but maybe Grover Kristiansen was a lot more self-centered than I realized.
Ennis glared at Grover’s retreating back. “Putz.”
“So. I’m not sure how much longer we have to wait to get picked up, but I want to pop outside and speak to Thor before we leave.”
Ennis gave me a nod. “Better you than me.” He waved his phone. “I’ll be checking for news back home.”
Thor was standing at the edge of the woods chucking stones at the ground cover when I came up behind him. “Are you aiming for anything in particular?”
“Mosquitoes.”
“You can actually see them?”
“I can’t see ’em, but I might be crippling a few inadvertently.” He picked up another handful of rocks from the ground and launched one into the forest. “Did you want something?”
“Yeah. I was wondering what your thoughts were about the exhibits in the Roundhouse Museum. Osmond and George really enjoyed the displays, so I’m canvassing the rest of you to see if you agree. I’m trying to do a little advance planning for future brochures.”
“I wasn’t impressed. I’ve seen old black-and-white pictures before. These were nothing special. And you had to read way too much junk.”
“Don’t say that too loudly. You’ll offend the avid readers in your book club.”
“In that case, I should yell it out. Nothing makes me happier than to upset those little prigs.” He skipped another stone into the trees.
“Did you take the time to read everything?”
“I told you—there was too much, so I left. Iversen f
ollowed me out. I think he was trying to spy on me, but I lost him quick enough.”
“Why would Ennis want to spy on you?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that they don’t like me. They’re trying to find ways to oust me from the group, gathering any dirt they can find anywhere they can find it. And the more dirt they have, the easier they think it’ll be for Florence to file for divorce. It’s a conspiracy. They’re all in on it. But they’re in for a big disappointment because I’m not going anywhere.”
“So how were you able to lose Ennis?”
“I—” He paused mid-throw to stare at me. “Why do you want to know?”
“No reason. I—”
“Oh, I get it. You wouldn’t be on a fishing expedition to see if I happened to follow Delpha down that hiking trail, would you? What do you think I did to her? Rough her up? Kill her?”
“That’s not why I—”
“Tell you the truth, Emily, I don’t recall where I went. I kind of lost track of time. But here’s the thing: since you’re not the police, you don’t get to ask the questions.” He narrowed his eyes to hostile slits. “You’ve drunk the Kool-Aid, haven’t you? Decided to join the conspiracy against me. They’re always looking to recruit new members, and it looks like they’ve succeeded. Well, bully for them. Now do me a favor and get out of my sight.” He side-armed the remainder of his rocks into the air with an angry slice. Ping! Thunk. Ding!
“You bet.” As I scurried back to the bus, I bemoaned the fact that I still didn’t know where the guys had actually gone after they left the museum, but their responses sent up a red flag that could have life-threatening implications. If their vague recollections of their surroundings were typical of the entire group, it left me to draw one very troubling conclusion.
Half the time they were walking around, they didn’t have a clue where they were.
seventeen
“You’re doing great so far,” our zipline instructor commended us. Her name was Sydney Ann and she was an elastic-limbed millennial with a southern drawl, a long braid that trailed down her back from beneath her helmet, and a knack for remembering names. “Now what y’all need to do is step into the harnesses that’re right in front of you.”
The harnesses she was referring to were laid out on the deck like industrial-size cobwebs, only with straps and hooks and shiny metal rings.
“I don’t understand where we’re supposed to step,” complained Goldie as she studied the maze of nylon webbing at her feet. “Are we ziplining or parachuting?”
“Watch the way I do it, hon. It’s easy as pie. Place your feet in these two openings”—Sydney Ann positioned her feet in what looked like two random spaces—“then reach down and pull the straps up between your legs, over your shoulders, and across your chest, like this.” With the skill of a master magician she hoisted the harness upward and into place in about three seconds flat.
I guess she’d done this before.
“Could you do that again?” asked Grover. “In slow motion?”
“Tell you what, Grover, how about I come ’round and help each one of y’all. That might be easier.”
Nods. Relieved sighs. Smiles.
The equipment hut where we were standing was about the size of our cabins. It was located in the middle of a clearing surrounded by skinny fir trees and a network of cables that anchored a series of zipline structures to the ground. The structure closest to the hut resembled a towering jungle gym that might have served as a staging area for the Flying Wallendas’ highwire act. Two sets of upright posts as tall as ships’ masts faced each other like opposing goalposts about thirty feet apart, with railed platforms built onto them at rising elevations. Narrow suspension bridges with cables for handrails and wooden slats for stairs connected one platform to the other in a succession of switchbacks, each bridge climbing ever higher to the final jumping-off point.
Uff-da. The bottoms of my feet started tingling in anticipation.
“Al’s never going to believe I did this,” gushed Orphie as she waited her turn to get harnessed up. “Imagine: at my age, flying through the air like Peter Pan.” She looked suddenly worried. “Is anyone planning to take pictures? If I don’t document this, Al might not believe me.”
Al. Just the person I wanted to discuss. “Has Al had any more news to share with you about the indoor water park deal?”
“I’m afraid not. He’s so busy negotiating the deal of the century that he’s had very little time to chat on the phone. People like Al have more important priorities than the rest of us, Emily.”
“Would you let me know if you hear any updates?” I asked as Sydney Ann finished cinching the straps on Goldie and moved down the line to Grover. “The acreage the developer wants to build on? It belongs to my dad. It’s his farm.”
“Really? Well, can you imagine how happy he’ll be when he finds out what Al plans to do with it?”
“That’s not going to make him happy, Orphie. He loves farming, and as far as I know, he’s entertaining no thoughts of retiring.”
“But all those cornfields are such an eyesore—and so monotonous. Just think what an improvement a big, beautiful resort hotel will be. It’ll put Windsor City on the map…and Al Arnesen in the political spotlight just in time for next year’s elections. Can you picture Al as our next mayor? Or state senator? Or governor?” She clutched her throat with excitement. “The governorship even comes with a mansion, doesn’t it?”
“Would you do me a favor and not mention the resort’s proposed location to either Mom or Dad? I don’t think they’re going to be as thrilled with the project as you are.”
She locked her lips with an invisible key and dropped it down her blouse. “My lips are sealed. But you need to face reality, Emily. They’ll find out sometime. There’s no stopping the wheels of progress.”
Maybe not, but wheels weren’t indestructible. Sometimes, they even fell off.
After trussing us up like Thanksgiving turkeys, Sydney Ann stood back to assess her handiwork. “Any of y’all’s straps too tight?”
I made a T of my arms as I peered down at myself. It looked as if someone had strung me up in a cat’s cradle, with straps crisscrossing my chest and shoulders and snaking between my legs under my tush. A couple of orange straps were attached to the webbing across my chest, and at the end of these hung two sturdy D-rings that resembled the clips mountain climbers use.
“These metal clips are called carabiners,” Sydney Ann informed us as she demonstrated the spring-loaded action of the D-rings on her own harness. “We use two as a safety precaution, so when we fasten one clip to the zipline cable, you’ll still be attached to the stationary cable on the platform until we fasten your second clip to the zipline. We never allow any of y’all to stand on a platform without having at least one of your carabiners attached to a cable to anchor you. It’s how we prevent y’all from taking that unexpected swan dive to the ground, so we’ve got you covered. The site has ten zips of varying lengths and heights for y’all to try, each one more fun than the last. Y’all ready?”
Cheers. Fist pumps.
“Okay then. Helmets on!”
We picked our helmets up from the deck and snugged them on our heads. All except Goldie, who turned it over in her hands as if it were a reject from a thrift store fire sale. “Do we have to wear a helmet?”
“Sure do. It’s another safety precaution.”
She primped her flame-red hair with a bejeweled hand. “But it’ll ruin my hairdo. I’ll have helmet hair.”
“Will you just put the damn helmet on so we can get this show on the road?” bellowed Thor.
“How about you have more respect for the ladies,” Ennis challenged.
“How about you stop acting like my mother,” Thor shot back.
Florence stomped her foot on the deck in front of her husband. “Can I never enjoy just one activ
ity without you ruining it for me?”
“Ruin it for you?” spat Goldie. “How about ruining it for everyone?” She thwacked Grover’s arm. “Are you going to stand there and let him talk to me like that?”
“Ennis already chewed him out. What else am I supposed to say?”
Goldie’s eyes turned to ice. “You’re such a prince.”
“Maybe you could postpone this conversation until after you complete the course?” I suggested. “I’m sure Sydney Ann has a schedule to maintain.”
“I’ve got a group of Majestic Cruise Line guests coming in right after y’all, so Emily’s right: we gotta keep moving. Don’t want to inconvenience our patrons by making them wait.” She flashed a sympathetic look at Goldie. “I’m sorry about your hair, hon, but if you don’t put your helmet on, you don’t get to go.”
Goldie grunted her frustration. Wincing, she lowered her helmet onto her head, fastened the chin strap, then looked to Florence for positive affirmation. “How do I look?”
“What does it matter?” snorted Thor. “No one looks at you anymore anyway.”
“Are you planning to give us some instruction about what we’re supposed to do?” Orphie interrupted.
Sydney Ann swung her arm toward the jungle gym structure in the distance. “That’s our first zip. When y’all finish climbing to the top platform, I’ll tell you what to do next. My teammate Mindy is already up there waiting for us, so let’s get cracking so y’all can meet her.”
We trekked single file down the manmade gravel path, Sydney Ann in the lead with me pulling up the rear. After climbing up a short flight of stairs, we arrived at the first platform, but making our way to the next platform looked a little more complicated.
“Take your time on the skybridge,” Sydney Ann instructed as she demonstrated her ability to navigate the thirty-foot length of rope-ladder that floated upward to the next platform. “Hold on at all times,” she shouted over her shoulder while gliding her hands along the cable rails, “and walk at your own pace, but be sure to step carefully.” This as she scrambled over the close-set wooden slats with the sure-footedness of a gazelle. She executed a little pirouette for our benefit from the opposite platform. “So who wants to go first?”