Forests, Fishing, & Forgery

by Tonya Kappes

  There were chicken coops, but all the chickens were running free around the trailer that’d seen much better days. There was a goat and a donkey alongside of the house that didn’t even look at me when I pulled up.

  I questioned why I was here and realized I was probably in over my head in the snooping department. There was one thing I really needed to do before I went in to talk to Snookie.

  Call Hank.

  “May-bell-ine,” his deep southern voice teased me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I think you’re right about Corbin’s death being accidental.” I heard an audible groan come from him. “I know you told me that my investigating for you was over, but I did get some news.”

  “And what might that be?” he asked.

  “I’d gone to the Cookie Crumble to pick up Ardine an apple turnover,” I started to tell my story.

  “Why would you go see Ardine Ashbrook when she told me she’d never met you after I told her you were the one who found her husband.” He really didn’t leave any stone unturned in his investigations.

  “I wanted to give her my condolences.” Of course I didn’t tell him the truth. “Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”

  “Go on.”

  “Anyways, Christine Watson made Corbin a cookie every Friday morning before she started to bake for the day. This way it couldn’t be contaminated with even the slightest of peanut butter. Well, I went in there and she said that Corbin didn’t pick up his cookie because it was still sitting on the counter in a baggie. But Ardine said he did go in and get a cookie from Mallory because Christine wasn’t there when he showed up.” It really did fit like a puzzle. “I think Mallory gave him a cookie that maybe wasn’t peanut butter but had somehow been contaminated with peanut butter.”

  “Is that it?” He didn’t sound impressed.

  “Ardine also said that he came home and got the call from Dottie about William Hinson. Corbin rushed out of the house and left his EpiPen and cell phone, which I’m sure you already knew since you’re the big detective and all.” I was kinda proud of myself.

  “I did know he left his stuff at home and you might be right about all this. The coroner did say anaphylactic shock could take up to an hour to kick in. He looked like he was on his way back down the trail from his position and couldn’t make it back to his truck. The inhaler DNA did come back and it was his DNA. He must’ve kept it in the ranger pack he wore because the contents had been used a long time ago and there was nothing in it to help him.” He paused. “Good work, Mae. I’ll check with Mallory. Just so you know, we are closing his case.”

  “Even though you don’t know how he got the peanut butter?” I asked.

  “The final contents of his stomach will show exactly what he ate, but there’s nothing that points to a homicide.” There was a disappointment in his voice. “I just hate that Corbin died like that. He was such a good guy and I really enjoyed working for him.”

  I listened to Hank tell me a couple of stories about their time together. It was actually heartwarming to hear him recall the fond memories.

  “But we must move on with the real murder investigation. Just because we closed Corbin’s case doesn’t negate the fact there is a murderer out there,” he said. “But that’s not for you to worry that curly head of hair of yours. You need to take care of Fifi and yourself. I’ll go talk to Mallory.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need my help?” I asked right before the buzzer of my phone alarm sounded the reminder of my hair appointment at Cute-icles in an hour, giving me enough time to talk to Snookie, who was staring at me from the front porch with a shotgun at her side.

  “Positive. Keep me posted about Fifi because my granny wants a puppy.” We said our goodbyes and hung up.

  “What you wunt?” Snookie lifted the gun for good measure.

  “I’m Mae West and your son was on my trail when he darted out of my campground, Happy Trails.” If I’d hadn’t just talked to Hank, I’d probably just pulled out of the driveway since it was obvious Stanley wasn’t part of the Corbin’s death.

  “You some cop too?” She asked and sat the butt of the gun back on the porch of the trailer.

  “Heck, no. I just wanted to see if you knew where Stanley was. I’m not going to turn him in or nothing. But our park ranger died from natural causes and I wanted to know if Stanley had seen him.” I shrugged. “That’s all.”

  “That man was killed?” She asked, her face scrunched.

  “No, ma’am. He had some peanut butter and he was allergic to it.” It was the simplest answer. “Corbin was a great ranger and we are just piecing together his final hours. That’s all.”

  “Well, you’re too late. Stanley was here. He saw the man dead. He took off in fear the fuzz was going to pin this man’s death on him since he was a petty thief.” She at least told me the truth, which did give me some comfort.

  “Did he say if he saw anything fishy or unusual? I have a camper missing and I’m new to the area. I don’t know the trails as well as you locals. I’d love to know if he saw any other hikers on the trail.” I was amazed at how that popped into my head.

  “I’m sure the cops will question him up and down, so you’ll have to ask them.” She lifted her chin in the air and drew the gun up, cradling it in both arms.

  “Cops?” I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly.

  “Yep. I made him turn himself in a couple hours ago. Normal Police Department. I dropped him off myself and watched with my own two eyes as he walked into the door.” She glared at me.

  “You’re a good mother, Snookie Bayer. Thank you for your time.” I waved at her and got back into my car.

  She didn’t wave back.

  TWELVE

  With all the yonders, barns and hairpin curves, I finally found my way back to Normal. It just so happened that I turned on the road where the Daniel Boone National Park office was located.

  I drove by and noticed the flag at half-staff that I was sure was in honor of Alison. There weren’t any cop cars. Even though Agnes told me they’d wrapped up, it was an altogether different scene than the night before.

  I turned the Escort around and pulled into the parking lot, looking at the window that was now boarded up. A chill ran up my spine at the thought of someone standing there pointing a gun at her.

  I wondered if Alison had survived, would she continue to snoop and uncover what she thought was a big scoop. Or would she say her life was more important. Knowing her the little bit that I did, I couldn’t help but think she’d continue with investigating what she’d held secret because she was so passionate about her career.

  Not that I wanted to defy what Hank had told me about not sticking my nose into things, I really wanted to see for myself if all the clues were gathered. Going against my own better judgment, I got out of the car and walked right on into the office like I was the boss.

  “Hi, Ms. West.” The receptionist must’ve recognized me from the last time I’d been here. Her eyes had a red ring around them, her face was blotchy, and her brown hair looked as if a cat had been sucking on it. It was a much different look than the last time I’d seen her, but she was grieving and it probably took everything she had to come to work. “I didn’t think you’d show up today.”

  “You knew I was coming?” I asked.

  “Yes. It’s written in Alison’s calendar. Since you found her, I assumed you knew the appointment was canceled.” She held up the paper calendar. “I’ve been calling all her appointments to cancel.”

  Ahem, I cleared my throat and tried to think of a good excuse to get a look at the calendar.

  “As you can imagine, I was in such a shock last night after cradling Alison in my lap, that I think I left my purse in the room. I went to the police station and they said they didn’t see it.” I pointed. “Agnes Swift told me they’d cleared the scene and released the office, so do you mind going back there and looking for me?”

  “You can go back.” She put a finger in the air.
“Mayor MacKenzie, this is Tandy, Alison Gilbert’s assistant. I wanted to call and formally let you know that the meeting she has on her calendar with you is canceled. If you have any questions, you can call me back at the Daniel Boone National Park office.”

  The mayor? The sound of her name hit my gut. In my head, I scanned down the names on the pad of paper I had sitting on the passenger side in the Escort. The only two suspects I had left on the list were William and the mayor.

  “I really don’t want to go back there. I don’t think I’m ready.” I blinked a few times, frowning. “Do you mind just going back there to look? I’ll wait here.”

  “Sure.” She nodded and frowned too.

  Her chair squeaked when she got up. She gave me another tight-lipped smile before she walked down the hall. Quickly, I peeked around the corner and once she was halfway down to the conference room, I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and touched the camera icon. There was no way I could take the calendar, but I could take several photos of it. I did. I flipped three months back and two months ahead. There was a big red circle around the meeting Alison was going to have with the Mayor. It was the only time that she used red. In my head, it made it stand out to me which told me she knew something about the Mayor. My name was written in pencil, so I knew where I stood. Easily erased.

  “I didn’t see anything.” Tandy came back up right after I took the last few photos of the contacts Alison had listed in the back of her calendar.

  “Maybe Hank did pick it up and didn’t remember.” I let out a long sigh. “I guess I should call him back to double check. Thanks anyways.”

  “If I find it, I’ll let you know.” Tandy went back to looking through the calendar as I let myself out.

  There was still about twenty minutes until my hair appointment and while I waited in front of Cute-icles in the Escort, I texted Dottie to check on Fifi.

  Me: Hey, Dottie. How is Fifi? I texted her.

  Dottie: She’s is pitiful. I called the vet and she came out. She said it could be any day.

  Me: Do I need to come home? I don’t mind canceling this hair appointment.

  Dottie: Heck no! (scissor emoji followed up by a kissing face) Fifi is fine. I hate texting. Goodbye.

  I had to trust that Dottie would let me know if I needed to come home. I dragged the pad of paper from the passenger seat and got a pen out of my purse along with my phone. I crossed Alison off the initial list as well as Stanley. Hank had mentioned something about Jamison and Penelope being each other’s alibis, so I crossed them off the list. I couldn’t cross the Mayor off the list. She was my choice of suspect for who killed Alison. How was I going to prove that? Confront the Mayor? She’d bring me down if she wanted to. All this meant was that I was going to have to be sly on how I proceeded from here. The information I needed was going to have to be something really big for her to have killed Alison.

  The alarm on my phone rang five minutes before my hair appointment. Instead of heading into the salon, I pulled out my phone and used my fingers to blow up the photos I’d taken of Alison’s calendar. There was an S.T. on every Friday with a heart around it but the last two Fridays were scribbled out. Now, I’m not cupid, but I did know that when you put hearts around anything, it must be out of love.

  The time on the top of my phone showed noon and I didn’t want Helen being mad at me for being late. The sleuthing was going to have to wait until Helen used her supposed magic touch on my curly head of hair.

  The inside of Cute-icles was Pepto Bismol pink. There was a white flocked Christmas tree in the back with all sorts of camping ornaments on it. She had strung twinkly lights all over the ceiling and all four puffy pink salon chairs had occupants.

  “You must be Mae,” the young woman behind the counter smiled. “We’ve been waiting all day for you to get here.” She twirled around. “Girls! Girls!” she yelled above the chatter to shush them. “This here is Mae West. She’s the one who found both bodies.”

  “I. . .um . .I. . .” I felt my face redden as a couple of the women in the pink salon chairs rushed over, both of their heads covered in tin foil.

  “We can’t wait to hear all about it. I’m Pam Purcell.” She tugged my arm to drag me over to the chair she was sitting in.

  “You’re the one with the good apples.” I thought I throw her a compliment.

  “No, she’s not. I’m the only one around here with good fruit. Now who said she had good apples?” The other lady’s face squished.

  “You must be Carol Wise, with the best peaches.” I noted, making her swell with pride.

  “The one and only.” She perked up a little.

  Each woman stood on a side of my chair, bickering about who had the better fruit. Pam’s hair was short from what I could tell underneath all the foils and it looked to be silver. She was about half a foot taller than Carol and half a foot wider. She wasn’t a big woman, maybe five feet six, but her voice was louder than Carol’s squeakier voice that held more southern sarcasm, which I could tell was getting under Pam’s skin. Carol, on the other hand, had longer hair that mostly stuck out the ends of her foil. The black long strands stood out.

  “What are you looking at?” Carol put her hands on her thin hips and jutted to the side.

  “Your hair. What are you doing to it?” I questioned.

  “Lowlights for the fall. I come in here each season and get a little fix me up.” She winked.

  I instantly liked Pam and Carol. They were just good folk that took pride in their businesses.

  “Have the two of you ever put your fruit together in mini-pies?” I asked. They looked between each other like I was nuts. “I own Happy Trails Campground and I love featuring all the local businesses. The Cookie Crumble supplies the donuts and some cookies in the morning. The Sweet Smell Flower Shops has a package for our romantic getaways where fresh boutiques of local flowers are in their campers or bungalows waiting for them. That’s just to name a few.” I could see they were thinking about my idea. “If the two of you put together mini pies with a combined filling of your fruits, I know my campers would love it during our campfire nights. Or you can even hold some sort of pie baking class for some of the ladies.”

  “Can we get back to you on that?” Carol asked.

  “Take your time. I’m not planning to go anywhere.” I fell in love with the idea of having some sort of craft or baking class for the campers like we did during the kids’ summer camp.

  “There’s my masterpiece.” Helen pushed through the door from the back wall. Her hair was an even brighter orange than the day before. She had on a pink apron to match the inside of her shop. “How do you like my shop?” She asked, plunging her fingers in my curls and brushing them down.

  “It’s pink.” I looked at her in the mirror on the wall in front of my chair.

  “My favorite color.” She twirled the chair around and started fluffing the top of my scalp with her fingers. “It inspires me. Now, do you trust me?”

  “That’s a loaded question,” I said and wondered what she was thinking.

  “I’m gonna put some relaxer on those curls and you just might look like a movie star like your name sake.” Her head rotate around and looked at me from all angles. “Why don’t you go on and tell us what happened with Alison Gilbert.”

  They all leaned at the same time with their ears pointed towards me.

  “She and I had a meeting. When I showed up she’d been shot.” It was simple as that.

  “I heard you saw the killer,” Pam chirped.

  “I heard you gave her CPR,” Carol had to put in her two-cents.

  “None of those things are true.” I had to laugh. “Literally, I walked in, yelled her name and walked to the conference room where the light was on.”

  Then it hit me. These ladies apparently heard a lot of things. Granted, they were lies, but somewhere there had to be some truth.

  “I guess I just won’t know what she was investigating that I think got her. . .” I hesitated. They leaned
a little closer. “Killed,” I whispered with exaggeration.

  A collective gasp came from them.

  “What was it? Do you know?” The receptionist asked me.

  “I’m not sure but I think it had something to do with the Chamber of Commerce meeting last month.” I looked up at Helen as she worked on my curls. “Did you go to that meeting?”

  “I did.” She tucked her bottom lip with her top teeth, her brows lowered, her eyes looked to the right as though she were thinking. “It was the luncheon for the last part of the fiscal year. There was a motion for Skip Toliver to open his new business and use some of the grant money, but I think they voted that down.”

  “He did start the business. He dropped off some of his business cards at the campground office to drum up business.” I had completely forgotten to get Abby to send some social media love his way.

  “He did?” Pam’s jaw dropped. “With what money?” she asked. “He better not have used those grants. That’s something me and you could use for our new fruit business.”

  “What new fruit business?” Helen asked her.

  “The one me and Carol are thinking about starting and if I recall, the applications for the local grants aren’t due until the end of the year.” Pam tapped her temple.

  They rattled on about the prospect of having this grant money for their businesses and Helen threw in her ideas, while I continued to think about Skip and his sister. Helen continued to slap stuff on my hair and the other stylists had taken Pam and Carol’s tin foil off their heads, finishing them up. I sat there letting Helen do her magic while they went from one gossip tale to the next, eventually coming back to the possible fruit business Pam and Carol might open.

  Helen started the hairdryer and used the round brush on my long hair.

  “Speaking of business,” Helen had turned off the hair dryer. “What about the drought? We seen the paper and even heard about your missing camper.”