“Yes, of course. Who was it? Was it an accident?”
“We haven’t notified the victim’s family yet so we can’t give you that information.”
“But was it an accident?” Mary pressed the issue, not something I would have done.
Deputy Wilson’s head shot up, and he stared hard at her.
“We can’t discuss the case,” Deputy Kline reiterated. “So, you do confirm that Sean was with you all day yesterday?”
“Yes, yes. He was with me.” Mary, under obvious stress, was becoming testy. I wondered if this wasn’t a good time to return to my RV and come back later to settle the bill. I couldn’t walk away though.
“Is this a good number for you?” Deputy Wilson picked up one of the RV park business cards.
“Yes. If I don’t answer, leave a message and I’ll call you back. Although I’m not sure what else I can tell you.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Kline said. They left the building, and I fished in my jeans pocket for my wallet.
To my surprise, Mary turned away from me and dropped into a chair. She bent over and started to cry.
“Oh, Mary! What’s wrong? I know this is stressful for you. It’s stressful for all of us.” I tried to offer solace from my position at the counter. There was a door leading to the office around the side of the counter, but I decided not to enter.
Mary continued to sob and said nothing to me. I found it hard to sympathize with her at the moment. I wasn’t quite sure why she was crying. And I didn’t know whether to go or to stay.
Sean stepped back into the café and approached the office.
“Still here?” he asked flatly in my direction.
I reared my head. What a rude, obnoxious—
Shall I hear some cursing now, my dear?
No, I’ll bite my tongue, Ben. Even without the whole body thing though, this Sean guy is detestable.
He is not a pleasant person, is he? And our dear Mary. What became of her sweet welcoming demeanor?
Not a clue, but I’d sure like to find out!
Minerva…
“Yes, actually, I am still here. I’m trying to pay my bill for the pontoon boat rental.”
He rounded the corner and stepped into the door of the office behind the counter. He looked at Mary and paused as if to console her, but obviously thought better of it as he left her alone and approached the counter.
“Forty dollars for the hour,” he said. “We won’t count the extra time out there. Not your fault.”
“Thank you,” I said in a voice that was clearly not grateful. I handed him two twenty-dollar bills. “I hope your grandmother is okay. I think she’s shook up.”
He threw a careless look over his shoulder. “She’ll be fine.”
“Did the police happen to mention who the man was?” I couldn’t believe I was asking him. My instinct was to run out of the office and back to the relative normalcy of my rig.
He shook his head. “Nope. They didn’t tell me. Probably some drunk who fell off the cliff.”
“A drunk? Why would you think that?”
He pushed a receipt in my direction and shrugged. “Who else would be wandering out there in the dark?”
“The dark? Did the police say he’d fallen in the dark?”
Sean fixed me with his grandmother’s pale blue eyes. “Dark, day, whatever. I don’t know. We’re going to close up the office now, so if there’s nothing else…”
And clearly there would be nothing else for me. He followed me to the door and locked it behind me without a word.
I stepped off the porch and headed to my RV. I had the worst desire to hop in my car and drive down the road to see if I could find the cliffs, maybe look around.
Minerva, why ever would you do that? Is your curiosity that boundless?
“Well, yes, it is, Ben. And I know you. You want to know more, too.”
Well, perhaps just a bit more. Ben chuckled.
I returned to my car and withdrew my keys from my pocket. I glanced at the cabin on the hill before pulling out of my RV space and heading for the entrance. No sign of life up there. The young man was certainly keeping a low profile. I wondered if he had seen all the activity and what he must think of it. From his cabin, he would probably have a good view of the public boat launch on the nearby shore.
I drove east for a few miles, wondering exactly where the cliff area might be. My GPS showed that the road paralleled the lake at this point but eventually moved away. I saw a dirt road to the left and decided to pull in to see where I was in relation to the cliffs. Thick ponderosa pine trees provided shade and seclusion to the narrow rutted path. I hadn’t seen a sign saying private property, so I drove slowly in the direction of the lake.
The last thing I wanted to do was run into the deputies or other law enforcement personnel who might still be searching and investigating the area. I inched along, wondering what I would say if I ran into anyone.
A movement to my right caught my eye. A deer?
No, it was a man in a black T-shirt who quickly slipped behind a tree. I brought the car to a stop.
Minerva! Please do not endanger yourself. Stay in the vehicle. There is a desperation about this young man that concerns me, a strong emotion of some sort that makes him pant like a wild animal as he hides from you.
“Do we know him, Ben? Who is it?”
It is the young man from the cabin.
“Really?”
I pulled the parking brake and turned off the engine.
Minerva! Please.
“I can’t just leave him hiding behind a tree, Ben.” I could still see the black of his T-shirt through gaps in the pine tree, poor guy. He obviously didn’t know I could see him.
He exhibits strong emotion, Minerva. I think your presence is unnerving him.
I fiddled with my keys. Ben was wise, and he cared about me. I needed to listen to him.
“Is he all right, Ben? If I leave?”
I think he will calm down.
“Well, I still need to see if this road leads to the cliff.”
As you wish, Ben said with a sigh.
I stuck the key back in the ignition, turned it on and moved down the road at a snail’s pace. I checked my rearview mirror, but didn’t see the young man pop out and dash off as I moved away.
Flashes of sparkling blue appeared through the trees, and I knew it was the lake. Apparently, the sun was out once again.
I stopped short. Four vehicles were parked across the road—a sheriff’s SUV, a green truck marked K-9, a sheriff’s cruiser, and an innocuous beige car. It seemed like a whole bevy of people wandered around, and I deduced that this was the cliff’s edge.
I couldn’t believe it, but Wilson and Kline were on the scene. Those two certainly got around. I wondered where their boat was.
A tall young man, dressed in a black jumpsuit followed a police dog around as they searched for who knows what. Two men, dressed casually in jeans and polo shirts, talked to Deputies Kline and Wilson. From the weapons on their belts, I gathered they were some sort of investigators or detectives. No one had seen me yet, but there was no chance I could back up without being seen. The last thing I wanted them to do was see my license plate pulling away in some suspicious manner, so I waited until one of them looked up. Deputy Wilson saw me first and approached the car. He rested one hand on the hood of my car and leaned down to look in at me.
“Miss Crockwell, what are you doing here?” His tone was pleasant but curious.
“Being nosey,” I said with my standard cheesy grin and sheepish shrug. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
“I don’t blame you,” he said. “After all, you did find the body.”
“And I had nothing to do with him being a body, I promise you!” A singularly inappropriate comment, I thought.
Ben chuckled, and I tried not to smile nervously.
“We didn’t think you did, but you do keep popping up all over the place. No chance you happened to know the victim, did
you?”
“Probably not, but since I don’t know who he was, I couldn’t say.”
He looked over his shoulder toward the other men. “Well, we haven’t managed to contact his family yet, but his name was Jason Strait.”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think I know anyone by that name. I’m not really from around here though.”
“Yes, we know. You’re from the west side, aren’t you?”
I nodded. I had spent many years on the western side of Washington State in a small town south of Seattle. I had no family connections there though. I had relocated to the Pacific Northwest for a job with the federal government. Before that, I had lived in Phoenix, Arizona, with my parents and brother. My parents had passed a few years ago, and my brother and I, never particularly close as siblings, had drifted apart, exchanging phone calls every few years or so.
“Yes, that’s where I lived. I sold my house and bought the RV, and now I’m on the road.”
Wilson sighed. “What a great life! I can’t wait to try it for myself.”
“You’ve got a ways to go, I think, before you can stop working.” I eyed the handsome deputy who was way, way too young for me.
“About ten years or so. I’m thirty-five. I can retire when I’m forty-five.”
“Oh, wow! That’s a nice retirement age.” I had myself retired at age forty, but not without twenty years of scrimping, saving and denying myself travel and adventure. I had misjudged Wilson’s age, thinking him younger.
Ben cleared his throat.
And this would be the “handsome” Deputy Wilson then?
He’s a bit young for me, Ben.
I am not sure he agrees with you.
I grinned at Ben’s comment, but Wilson must have thought I was grinning at him. He stuck his hand in the door as if to shake mine.
“Josh Wilson,” he said. “And you are Minerva Crockwell.”
“Minnie,” I said. Were we socializing now? Through my windshield, I could see the other men milling about talking. One or two looked toward my car, and I felt terribly conspicuous.
“Well, I guess I’ll scoot on back to the RV park. I was just being nosy wondering if the poor guy fell from up here or…” I offered no other words. I was actually thinking of “murder,” but hated to say it.
“Where’s your boat, by the way?”
“Sam and I wanted to get down here to the cliffs, so two of the other deputies took it back to the lot.”
I contemplated telling Josh about the young man hiding in the trees, but then I wondered why I would.
Should I, Ben? Although he seems odd, he’s not really breaking any laws that I know of. I doubt he even knew the victim, holed up as he is in that cabin.
He may simply be just as curious as we are, Minerva. I think it might be a disservice to the poor fellow to alert the authorities to his presence. He did ask you not to mention him to the park staff as he was not the guest who had been registered to the cabin.
Oh, that’s right! Odd guy.
Josh pulled out his notepad and flipped through it. “So, this is a good number for you?” He pointed to a notation on his pad, and I nodded.
“In case we need to follow up,” he said. He flashed a bright smile, and my pulse jumped.
I nodded again. “Right.” He continued to lean on my car. I saw Kline walking toward the car.
“Well…” I said. “I’d better go. Deputy Kline is coming to get you, I think.”
Josh looked over his shoulder and straightened. Kline arrived before I could leave.
“What brings you out here, Miss Crockwell?” he asked. He was more reserved, somewhat distant in his demeanor, in kind of a “I’m a cop and you might be the bad guy” approach. He looked like he’d been in law enforcement for a long time, but what did I know? Maybe he’d been rolling out pizza dough just two years ago. Blue eyes squinted as he assessed me.
“Oh, just snooping,” I said. “I couldn’t help myself. I was telling Deputy Wilson that I couldn’t resist coming out here to see where the poor guy might have fallen from.”
Kline looked at Josh with an enigmatic expression.
“Well, you’ll read about it in the papers anyway,” Kline said. “We don’t think he fell. We’re pretty sure he was pushed off the cliff.”
I drew in a sharp breath and held it. Somehow, I had known, but hearing it confirmed was difficult.
It was murder then, Ben said.
I nodded, more to Ben than to the deputies.
“I asked her if she knew Strait, but she stated she’d never heard of him.”
I shook my head vigorously. “No, not me. I’m not local.”
“We know,” Deputy Kline said. He turned to Josh. “We’re wrapping up here, Josh.”
Josh nodded. “Have a good day, Miss Crockwell,” he said. They turned to walk back toward their truck. I put my car in reverse to back up but as I did so, I saw Josh look over his shoulder and wave his notepad at me. He grinned. I couldn’t resist his smile and returned one of my own.
Minerva, Minerva. Ben sighed.
“Yes, Ben?” I grinned again, a little heady from the thought that a handsome young man had insinuated he intended to call me.
Ben said nothing more, and my smile faded.
“Do you think the young cabin dweller is still here?”
I slowed as I passed the area where he had been hiding.
He is not. I do not see him.
“Okay. Well, I guess it’s back to Sunny Lake RV Park for us. It’s almost time for dinner anyway.”
I returned to the park and pulled into my space. As I got out of the car, I looked up toward the young man’s cabin. No sign of life. I didn’t know whether he was there or whether he was still making his way back to the park. I hadn’t seen him on the road, or I would have offered him a ride.
An hour later, after dinner, I decided on a stroll. Other campers were out enjoying the early evening air. Children played on the nearby playground. Couples strolled hand in hand or with dogs. Folks grilled on their outdoor barbecues.
I walked along the dock and took a few pictures of the sun shining golden on the lake. Everything seemed so peaceful and normal, so beautiful, that it was hard to believe that someone had pushed a man to his death. Why? Who? Was there a killer on the loose? I looked over my shoulder. I wasn’t alone. I could have screamed and someone in the park would have heard me.
I couldn’t push the image of a man in blue being tossed off a cliff from my mind, and I envied my fellow campers their peace of mind. So far, my RVing adventures had brought me one ghost and two murders. Was this the life I wanted?
Minerva, my dear. Surely, you will not encounter murder and mayhem at every turn. I believe this is coincidence only. Do not forgo your dreams of travel and adventure based on this small sampling.
“If I give up, are you afraid you’d be stuck with me in some apartment somewhere in a Podunk boring town?”
I cannot imagine being “stuck” with you anywhere, my dear, but no, that is not why I think you must forge on. I think you will regret relinquishing the life you envision. Give it some time. There are adventures awaiting you, places to see, people to meet.
I sighed. “You’re right. I’m overreacting. There’s no way this sort of thing can happen again. The odds are astronomical.”
Just so, Ben said.
I returned to my RV and locked the door for the night with a plan to watch television and get to bed early. I had just turned from the door when I heard a faint knock.
Who is it, Ben? I asked silently.
It is the young man from the cabin. He knocks furtively and looks over his shoulder in a suspicious manner. I do not advise you to open the door to him.
He might need something, Ben, I said silently. And I wouldn’t half mind asking him what he was doing out there today.
Minerva, my dear, do you ever heed my warnings? I heard him sigh.
I flipped the lock on the door.
All the time, dear Ben. Just n
ot this once.
I pushed open the door, and the young blond veteran stood there, looking over his shoulder.
“Can I come in?”
Even I didn’t think that was a good idea. I didn’t know him from anything, so I grabbed the small air horn I kept by the door and stepped down.
“Actually, no. I’m… My dog doesn’t like strangers.” As soon as I said the words, I liked them and thought I might use them in future encounters with strangers. “Can I help you? Is everything all right?”
“I need to talk to you, but I can’t stand out here. Can you come up to the cabin?”
Minerva…
I’m on it, Ben!
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think I should. How about if we stand behind the RV? It’s pretty private back there. The only people who could see you would be the people in the cabins, and as far as I can see, that’s just you.”
“Okay,” he said. His eyes shifted to the left and right. He wore the same black T-shirt and jeans he had worn that morning. His feet were encased in hiking boots.
I led the way toward the back of the RV and he followed quickly.
Stay alert, Minerva! I do not like this.
I hadn’t realized how tall the young man was. He loomed over me at well over six feet as we stood next to each other.
I’m not sure I like this either, Ben.
Then you must make your excuses and return to the safety of the RV.
“My name’s Scott Strait,” he said.
I gasped.
“Strait?” I repeated involuntarily. The victim’s name had been Jason Strait.
“Oh, you know then.” His Adam’s apple worked as if he swallowed repeatedly. He ran a hand across his stubbled chin.
“Know what?” I squeaked.
Chapter Four
“About my brother,” Scott said. “I figured you knew something because I saw you on the public boat launch with all the police. I didn’t know they’d released his name though. I’m Jason’s only living relative, and no one has notified me…probably because no one knows where I am.”
My head was spinning, and I wanted to process the information he’d shared before opening my mouth.
If I may be of assistance, Ben said. The veteran in the cabin is brother to the victim. The victim was murdered. The question is: Did one brother kill the other?
Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 02 - Trouble at Sunny Lake Page 4