by Lynn Bohart
I jumped to my feet and spun to my right. Monty stood in the dark, his ugly face cast in shadow.
“I’m just walking the dog,” I choked out. “I didn’t mean to bother anyone.”
“Well, you’re bothering me. You’re in our campsite.”
“Actually, I’m not in your campsite,” I said, glancing over to the curb that served as the dividing line.
He stepped angrily forward, making me back up. Tinker Bell jumped in between us, barking and lunging at him. I pulled her back.
“Move on. And take your mutt with you.”
The anger in his voice was menacing. I had no doubt this man would harm me if I didn’t comply.
“I…uh…”
“I mean it,” he snapped, throwing up his hand in front of my face. “And take this mangy animal with you.”
He kicked out at Tinker Bell, connecting with her shoulder. She cried out, but instead of retreating, she whirled around and tore into his ankle with a vengeance. He cried out in pain and stumbled backwards with the dog still growling and attached to his sock. I interceded, grabbing hold of the snarling, snapping dog and pulled her back. She wouldn’t let go, ripping his sock.
“I’m sorry, but that was your fault,” I said, holding her up.
He was bent over, grabbing his ankle. “I’m going to report you and that rabid dog. He’ll be impounded.”
Since I knew he was bluffing, I decided to bluff back.
“I’m happy to make the call. Let’s get the police out here and let them decide whose fault this was.”
He grew quiet, staring at me in the dark, his left eye pulled down at the outer corner as if it had been injured at some point.
Count to three.
“Just get the hell out of here.”
“No problem.”
My heart was racing, but I began to back up, feeling the need to keep my eye on him. Finally, when I got to the curb, I turned and left. I glanced back once. He was still staring at me from the shadows.
I passed the campsite. The man named Roy turned in my direction as Eva emerged from the motorhome. She stopped at the bottom of the steps, staring at me. Monty limped around the corner of the RV and stopped, completing a threatening tableau.
As a chill snaked down my back, I turned and retreated up the road, feeling three sets of eyes watching me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When I got back to our campsite, Rudy had a roaring fire going. She and Doe were sitting in chairs chatting and enjoying the outdoor ambience. I put Tinker Bell down, and she pulled at her leash to get to Doe, so I let her go. She ran and jumped into Doe’s lap.
“Hello, little girl,” Doe said with affection, ruffling her fur. “Hey, wait a minute.” Doe used her fingers to hold the little dog’s head to one side. “What’s this?” She looked up at me, her brows pinched with concern. “What happened, Julia? This looks like blood on her nose.”
The door to the Hulk opened, interrupting us. Blair emerged in pajamas and slippers again, drawing a comb through her wet hair.
“Where have you been?” she asked me.
“I took Tinker Bell for a walk.”
“Sure you did,” she said with a single lift to her eyebrows.
“I repeat, what happened?” Doe demanded.
I glanced over at Rudy, who was poking at the fire. “Don’t you want to give me the third degree, too?”
She merely smiled and continued doing what she was doing. “No. Seems like they’re doing a pretty good job of it.”
I heaved a big sigh. “Okay, the white motorhome is here.”
“Really? The one that left so quickly the other night?” Rudy asked, leaning back in her chair. “And you just happened to see it on your walk…the walk Doe was going to take until you snatched the leash out of her hands?”
I pulled one of the chairs over to the fire and sat down. “Okay. I saw that skinny guy with the ponytail from the Jayco motorhome down at the fireworks show earlier. The one I thought was dead.”
“So, he’s alive,” Doe exclaimed.
“Apparently.” I didn’t want to revisit my mistake about his death and so kept going. “He was there with the red-headed woman. Her name is Eva.”
“So that’s why you pulled your chair to the end of the canoe rack,” Doe said.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I saw him at the concession stand and then watched him go sit on the other side of the canoes.”
“Did you hear anything interesting?” Blair asked, sitting on the picnic bench, facing the fire. “Like anything about their drugs?”
“He said something to her about them taking all the risk.”
“What would that mean?” Doe asked.
“I have no idea. He said it wasn’t going to work, whatever it was. She replied that ‘Monty’—I think that’s the name of the stocky guy with the beard—had it under control and they were all going to be rich.”
Everyone perked up at that little tidbit of information.
“So you took a walk to find their campsite,” Rudy said. “And you must have found them. What happened?”
I took a deep breath. “There’s a third guy with them now. I heard Ponytail Guy say something earlier about a guy named Roy joining them. And that another guy named Yoda was pulling all the strings. And get this…apparently they’re going to Chicago.”
I let that sink in a moment.
“So we may see them again,” Blair said.
“Yes. Anyway, when I was on my walk, Roy and Ponytail Guy were in a big argument. Roy had Ponytail Guy up against the motorhome and threatened to kill him.”
“Sounds like a fun group,” Doe said. “But I want to know where this blood came from.”
“I went behind the motorhome to an area where there are no campsites. I sat down on a rock to let Tinker Bell sniff around. Monty showed up and ran me off.”
“What? Why?” Blair asked.
“Maybe because I heard some weird stuff a few minutes earlier. Almost as soon as I sat down, I heard banging from inside the motorhome, as if someone was kicking or knocking on the wall.”
“Maybe they were fixing a door or something,” Blair offered.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I think it was Monty who went inside right away and told whoever it was to shut up.”
“Do you know who he was talking to?” Rudy asked.
“No. All four of them were outside.”
“So there’s a fifth person,” she said.
“Yes. And Monty yelled for Eva. He told her, ‘just do it or you’ll blow everything!’”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Doe said. “Then what happened? Get to the part about the blood.”
“Before I knew it, Monty was by my side. I never even heard him come up. He said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Then he ordered me to leave.”
“He doesn’t have any right to do that,” Rudy said.
“I told him that, but he wasn’t kidding. He actually stepped forward as if he would force me to leave. That’s when Tinker Bell came to my rescue.”
Doe perked up. “What do you mean?”
“She jumped in between us, and he kicked her. She tore into his leg.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. Tinker Bell got the best of him. She went after his ankle, ripped up his sock and actually made him cry out like a baby. Anyway, that’s why she has blood on her.”
Doe’s dark eyes were opened wide. “My goodness. She really attacked him?”
“Yeah. Once I separated her from his ankle, he threatened to report her and have her impounded.” Doe’s face registered alarm, but I put up a hand to calm her. “Once again, don’t worry. I challenged him to call the police, and he backed down immediately.”
Doe’s face beamed with pride. She ruffled the dog’s fur and leaned in to nuzzle her. “What a good little guard dog.”
Blair and I smiled watching her, but Rudy sat back in her chair, a thoughtful look on her face. “I wonder what all that means,” she murmured.<
br />
“I don’t know. But there’s something wrong with that group. I just know it.”
“It’s those bug antenna again,” Blair said.
I turned to her. “No. You said my bug antenna was for finding dead bodies, and we all know how well that went. That guy is very much alive.”
“Well, we know they’re into drugs,” Blair said.
“It’s nothing that concerns us,” Doe said with a slight reprimand. “We don’t need to get involved.”
“They’ll probably be leaving tomorrow, anyway. Just like us,” Rudy said.
I sighed with disappointment. “I know.”
“Then I vote for s’mores,” Rudy said, jumping up and grabbing the marshmallows off the table.
÷
It was Wednesday morning, and Blair offered to make pancakes and sausage for breakfast. When she announced she needed milk, I offered to walk up to the store. I found the little general store that sat next to a single gas pump. As I turned the corner and passed a big metal ice chest, I was surprised to find the Jayco motorhome there. Monty was outside pumping gas.
I purposely turned my head as I went inside, hoping he wouldn’t notice me, but I passed Eva on her way out. She carried a bag full of groceries and gave me a hard stare as she stepped through the door.
The refrigerator case was at the back of the store, so I quickly grabbed a quart of milk and returned to the checkout counter. The motorhome was still there, but Monty was climbing back behind the wheel.
The clerk put the carton of milk into a paper bag and handed it to me. I thanked him and approached the screen door, keeping my eye on the motorhome. As I stepped outside, the RV pulled away from the pump.
And…then it happened.
The curtain covering the back window was flung aside and the face of a young girl with dark hair appeared. Something pulled at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes were opened wide. She banged on the window with the flat of her hands and seemed to be trying to scream.
Then just as suddenly, she was yanked away from the window. The curtains were thrown shut, and the motorhome drove away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I paused for a moment, unsure of what I’d seen. As the motorhome rumbled up the road, my mind struggled to understand.
Was that just a kid playing around? Maybe the kid that was banging on the wall the night before? Or was a girl being held hostage?
I hurried back to the Hulk and burst into the main cabin. Everyone stopped to gape at me.
“What’s wrong?” Doe asked.
“I saw that motorhome again. They were leaving.” I reached out to grab the counter to steady myself. My heart was hammering. “There was a girl inside. I think she was trying to get out.”
“What do you mean?” Rudy asked.
“It was a teenage girl. It looked like she had a gag in her mouth…she was banging on the window.”
My friends, my best friends, grew quiet and just stared at me.
“Don’t you get it?” I insisted. “I think they might be holding a girl against her will.”
Rudy got up from the couch and put her hand on my shoulder. “Julia, you need to let it go. They may not be very nice campers, but I doubt they’ve abducted someone.”
“But you heard what they said last night.”
“No, you heard what they said,” she corrected me.
I spun around to address Doe and Blair. “But think about it. That thumping noise last night could have been that girl.”
“Julia, why would someone abduct a young girl and then take her camping?” Doe asked with a dismissive chuckle. “I mean, you’re not making sense. Don’t kidnappers take their hostages to some abandoned warehouse or something? You’re probably just getting this confused with the reports of Senator Owens’ daughter.”
“Oh my God!” I said, my eyes popping open. “Do you think it’s her?”
“Whoa!” she said, holding up a hand. “No, I don’t. I just meant you’re conflating the two.”
I dropped into one of the swivel chairs. “But the comment I heard out by the canoes about them getting a lot of money fits with an abduction,” I argued.
“It also fits with selling drugs,” Blair said.
“Maybe they’re delivering her to someone,” I argued. “Maybe they’re sex traffickers.”
“In a motorhome?” Blair almost choked on a laugh. “C’mon, Julia. Get real. I can just see the police chase now.”
“Stop making fun of me.” I slammed the grocery bag on the game table and took a deep breath. “Here’s your milk. I’m not hungry. I’m taking a shower before we leave.”
Once again, I let the splash of warm water wash away my anger and anxiety. When I’d finished, I emerged dressed and ready to go. There was no friendly banter between us this time. The girls were just finishing breakfast, and the tension hung in the air like smoke. I put my toiletries away and repacked my suitcase as they pulled the dirty dishes together and began to get ready to leave.
I joined the silent effort.
As a group, we had occasional disagreements, but we rarely had fights. This felt like a fight. And I was at the center of it.
A half hour later we were back on the road. This time, Doe was driving and Rudy was riding shotgun. I was in one of the swivel chairs, while Blair sat at the breakfast table using her big makeup mirror to apply her eyeliner. The tension was palpable. I noticed Blair glance at me a couple of times.
I pulled out my mystery book feeling like the odd man out. I treasured my friendships with Doe, Rudy, and Blair, and for the first time I felt the friendship beginning to splinter. Tears began to form at the thought, and I turned to the window to hide my distress.
I just wish I was sure of what I’d seen. Was I trying too hard to turn this into something it wasn’t? It was a strange group of people traveling in the Jayco RV, to be sure. The guy called Monty had anger problems. Ponytail Guy drank too much. They were involved together in something that was going to earn them a bunch of money. But were they kidnappers? The girl I’d seen might just as easily have been their daughter or niece playing a prank.
I wiped away a tear and audibly sighed, feeling a different weight lay heavy on my shoulders now.
Once I dug my teeth into something, I had a tendency to hold on. I knew that. It sometimes got me in trouble. It appeared this was one of those times. I had to decide if I was going to allow it to drive a wedge between me and the people I relied on most.
Soon, we were passing over the Cheyenne River and crossing into the center of South Dakota. I continued to watch the scenery pass by as I contemplated my options and was barely aware of Blair getting up to go to the bathroom. A few minutes later, a pair of arms enveloped me from behind. I felt Blair’s cheek against mine as her Vera Wang perfume flooded my nostrils.
“You’re the best of us, Julia,” she whispered. “Don’t let our cynicism stop you. Call David if you need to and tell him what you heard. And don’t worry…we’ll always have your back.” She kissed my cheek and returned to the dining table where she pulled out a book.
I gave her a thankful smile and took her advice. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed David’s number. As I waited for him to answer, I realized the last thing he’d said to me was that Owens had received a ransom note. With all the hoopla about Monty and crew, I’d completely forgotten that.
My heart fell when the call went to voice-mail. I left a quick message and hung up frustrated.
I contemplated opening my book to get lost in someone else’s mystery, but my mind wandered back to the haunting image of the young girl in the window. I realized I had a mystery of my own to solve. Who was she? And was she really in trouble or playing some silly game?
I decided to pull out my iPad. I googled the kidnapping case. It wasn’t hard to find multiple articles and a picture of Amy Dunphy.
“What’d you find?” Blair asked.
She had put her book down and was watching me.
“A picture of Amy Owens, or Amy
Dunphy. That’s her name now.”
“Is it the same girl you saw in the motorhome?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t get a very good look at her. She did have dark eyes and dark hair, though, so it certainly could be her.”
I stared at the photo, trying to place her into my memory of the girl in the window. Amy Dunphy looked to be in her late teens and had wide-set dark eyes and shoulder length, curly dark hair.
“She looks a lot like her dad,” I said finally. “It could be the girl I saw. It happened so fast, though. And she was partly obscured by the curtains and whatever she had in her mouth.”
“You think we should have reported it to the police, don’t you?”
I looked up and paused before saying, “I don’t know. At that very moment I was sure she was in danger. But now, I’m not so sure.” I let my tablet drop back onto the table. “I mean, it could have been a kid screwing around. Maybe she’s a trouble maker. Maybe that’s why she was banging on the wall the night before. Some kids are like that…out-of-control. It just happened so fast. But I suppose if we’d reported it, we might have looked like fools again.”
Blair frowned. “Especially when you’re the only one who saw her, and we don’t know where the motorhome is now. Sorry. I wish I could be more help.”
“I know. Thanks.”
She returned to her book, and I picked up the iPad and continued to stare at the face of Amy Dunphy, wondering if I had been that close to helping her, but couldn’t.
You have lots of time to do nothing on a long road trip, so I decided to use my time to dig deeper on the internet.
I found an article from the Seattle Times on Amy’s disappearance. There wasn’t much more information than what we already knew, but there was more about Owens himself. Senator Owens had divorced his first wife, Trina, eight years earlier for a younger woman he’d been having an affair with–his campaign manager.
I smiled to myself. Been there done that.
Graham had divorced me and then married a woman almost thirty years younger. I didn’t know what the Owens’ relationship had been like before they split up, but Graham and I had gotten along well right up to the divorce, and we still did. We had just drifted apart emotionally and sexually, leaving a chasm of indifference between us.