Murder Hits the Road

by K. J. Emrick

  “Give them back,” he growled. “Give them back or I’ll kill you. I swear to God I’ll kill you. I’m tired of everyone taking everything from me.”

  Cookie held onto the keys for dear life. He wasn’t getting them back. She couldn’t let him leave. She needed the police. She needed Jerry.

  Only her cellphone was back in her RV, and Jerry was…

  Here.

  He threw the door of the Airstream open and stepped up inside without bothering to ask if he was invited. In his hand was something long and narrow and wrapped in one of Cookie’s good bath towels. Whatever was in there had left dirt and mess all over the fine terrycloth and cotton blend.

  Cookie smiled. She didn’t care if he ruined the whole set of towels. He was here, right when she needed him.

  His eyes gave her a quick hello before they turned to hard steel for Humphrey. “How about you sit yourself down. You’re obviously having trouble standing up. Missing something?”

  “You can get out of my place right now!” was the shouted response. “Get out!”

  “I won’t be going anywhere. So. Sit yourself down right there, and we can all wait for the local police to arrive.”

  “The police?” Humphrey sputtered. “You’re crazy. What are you talking about?”

  Enunciating each word, Jerry said, “Sit. Down.”

  Humphrey looked like he wanted to argue about it more, but his body wouldn’t support him any longer. He dropped back into his chair with a hard puff of breath and then sat there, watching the both of them with a pure hatred.

  “That’s better.” Jerry said to him. “Now. Stay there and wait for the police.”

  “Why should I? Huh? This is my home. You’re trespassing in my home. Why should I do anything that you tell me to? Why should I?”

  “Because of this.”

  Jerry held up the object in his hand. He pulled away one corner of the towel. Underneath it, Cookie saw the length of carved wood they had been looking for.

  Humphrey’s cane.

  Jerry hefted it in his hands. “This is yours, I believe. Notice these red smears along the grain, and down at the end here? Know what I think that is?”

  All of the color drained from Humphrey’s face. Cookie couldn’t help but think how comically expressive the man’s face was, how it changed from moment to moment based on his mood. Now his eyes went wide as he realized what Jerry meant.

  There was blood on the cane. His cane.

  They’d just found the murder weapon.

  “That was stolen from me!” Humphrey said immediately, pointing at the cane with a shaky hand. He tried to get up from his seat but slipped down into it again. “That’s why I didn’t have it. Stolen. Stolen from me! You’re all a bunch of thieves. That one stole my keys, and someone stole that from me! They must have used it to kill that guy and then left it for you to find! That must have been how it was! It was stolen from me, I tell you!”

  Outside they heard the sound of sirens getting closer. The Sheriff’s Deputies would be here in no time at all. Jerry must have called them on his way to save Cookie from this old, hobbled, hateful man.

  “Stolen,” Humphrey muttered again. “Stolen from me. Everything stolen from me.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Jerry said, wrapping the cane with the towel again. “I don’t have any jurisdiction here. Tell it to the local police. They’re going to want to hear everything you have to say. I’m on vacation.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “Where did you find it?” Cookie asked.

  “You won’t believe me when I tell you.”

  Jerry poured more milk into his coffee and stirred it while it mixed. They were at the table in their own RV again, now that the police had done their thing and left. They’d taken Humphrey away with them. He argued and yelled the whole way and everyone in the park came out to watch this new chapter of the mystery unfolding around them.

  The old grumpus had to be helped to the patrol car. Without his cane, they almost had to carry him to get him closed into the backseat behind the security screen. They had the cane as well, of course, but it was evidence in his crime. They weren’t going to give it to him to use.

  Cream was curled up on the bed, sleeping. Apparently, he was exhausted from all the help he had given them on this case, because he’d been dropped into that spot as soon as Jerry came back with him from their walk, where he had found Humphrey’s cane. He hadn’t moved since.

  “It was just right there,” Jerry was explaining. “Right there in the burn barrel to the side of the bathroom building. I had to throw away a little present from our furry friend back there, and when I was putting his poop bag in the garbage can I looked in the burn barrel right next to it and there was the cane, under some broken branches.”

  Cookie couldn’t believe their luck.

  “Are they even allowed to have burn barrels in this state?”

  “I don’t think,” he said, “that a place like Heaven’s Haven worries about that.”

  “Hmm. Good point. So, he just left it there? For anyone to find?”

  Jerry shrugged. “He was probably hoping that the groundskeeper here would set the contents of the barrel on fire without giving a second glance to one more stick. Once it all burned to ash, any evidence of his crime would be gone.”

  “Crafty old man,” Cookie had to admit.

  “Not all that crafty. The garbage can was full up to the brim. I doubt this place gets taken care of on a regular basis. That cane was going to sit there for a week or more, I’d guess, before anyone got around to burning it.”

  “I believe you’re right. So why do you think he did it?”

  With a sigh, he put his coffee aside. “Sometimes, you never know the motive. He’s got a big hate on for the world at large. Who knows. Maybe Stacia and Ernesto took the parking space he wanted.” He shook his head as he thought about it. He must have walked right into their motorhome and clubbed them both in their sleep. That’s how he got the blood on his cane.”

  “And,” she added, “why he had to get rid of it. Blood soaks into wood. There’s no way to clean it off. Do you think he meant to kill Stacia, too? She got a bad blow to the head. Maybe he saw the blood and thought she was already dead so he just… left her?”

  “Maybe,” Jerry agreed. “It’s a horrible thing, any way you explain it. I tell you something else, too. I’m pretty sure that’s how Stacia’s dog went missing. I think when Boxer saw what was happening he ran away as fast as his four little feet could carry him.”

  “Oh, I remembered something Stacia said.” She had remembered it earlier, during the excitement of the police coming and going again. “Stacia told me that Humphrey threatened her and her husband with his cane. She said it wasn’t the first time either. She said it happens almost every year they do this trip and obviously he hasn’t gotten any friendlier with time.”

  “No, he hasn’t. Hmm. Maybe there’s something else that happened sometime on one of these trips as well. Something Stacia didn’t tell you about?”

  “Or something she doesn’t know about, maybe.”

  “Something bad enough to kill for.”

  Cookie set her coffee cup next to Jerry’s. She wasn’t in the mood for coffee anymore. Everything he said made sense, and she thought he was probably right. A dark secret from the past that might have been at the root of it all. A man dead, his wife brutally beaten, and their dog missing. She didn’t care if people thought she was foolish for including the pet in that list of heinous acts. Pets were family, and this family had been torn apart by one very cruel act.

  They reached out to each other and held hands. Another murder mystery solved. They might not know the motive, but they had caught the bad guy. The local Sheriff’s Department could handle the rest of it. The two of them made an amazing team. Cookie couldn’t imagine having another man in her life who would be better for her than this man here. He was her companion, her lover, and her strength. They had found each other so late in life but she firmly believ
ed that sometimes the best recipes were the ones that took the longest. Friendship bread literally took days to create. Some recipes for plum pudding required up to a year to make.

  With Jerry, she’d found exactly the right recipe, with all the right ingredients.

  “You know what we should do?” he asked her after a while of comfortable shared silence. “We should take Stacia out to dinner tonight. Franky and Penny, too. We found her husband’s killer but she’s still going to need time to heal. She’ll need her friends around her and since we’re all on this trip and away from home, we’re basically her only friends now.”

  “I think that would be a wonderful idea,” Cookie agreed. “I think she’s over with Penny and Franky now, as a matter of fact. I’ll go over and ask them.”

  “Excellent. You paid for dinner last night, so I’ll pay for dinner today.”

  “Oh, you silly man,” she laughed at him. “We’re married. Your money is my money.”

  “But we have different bank cards.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles before getting up for his wallet. “Gotta keep the romance alive somehow.”

  She rolled her eyes. Silly man. Their romance was alive and well and he didn’t have to buy her dinner to keep it that way. Well. She should go and ask Stacia if she felt up to going out to eat with their little gang. That poor woman. She had been hit by life from every side.

  Cream twitched in his sleep, reacting to something in his dream. This was going to be another night when he was left alone in the RV. Cookie pursed her lips. She never thought about how hard this trip would be on him when they started out. They had all taken a cruise together once, but that had been different because the boat line they went on had allowed pets. Cream had a great time on that trip. Except for the part where they were running through the ship for their lives, of course. Other than that, it had been a lot of fun.

  The difference was that on the boat they had been able to spend most of their time together, even their mealtimes. Now, they had to leave her doggie pal in the RV whenever they went off to have fun. Sure, things would be different when they got to Titan’s Gorge, but still she felt bad…

  “Hey, Cookie?” Jerry asked her when she was almost out the door. “Have you seen my wallet?”

  “Um, no. I haven’t. I don’t usually keep track of it. Isn’t it in your drawer?”

  “No, my watch is there and my badge case and the rest of my things, but not my wallet. It’s got to be somewhere else.”

  “Well, I’m sure it’s here somewhere. Hold on, I’ll help you look.”

  “Check the bathroom for me. I was in there earlier.”

  Silly man. He’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body.

  After fifteen minutes they had looked everywhere that a wallet could possibly be hiding in the RV. It wasn’t there.

  Jerry checked the cushions of the seats again, for the third time, before finally giving up. “This is serious, Cookie. My credit cards are in there. My driver’s license and my Social Security card, too.”

  “I’ve warned you about carrying your Social Security card with you. That should be at home in the safe.”

  “Not really the time,” he said, his voice flat. “You can do the I-told-you-sos later. I’m serious, I can’t let all of that get into someone’s hands. They could open up a credit card in my name and rob us blind before we even knew it.”

  She came over to him, taking his hands in hers. “I wasn’t trying to be funny, dear. I know this is serious. Tomorrow we can call and cancel all of your cards and report the license as lost but for now, let’s think. After all, we just solved a murder. We should be able to solve the case of where you left your wallet! Now. Where do you remember seeing it last?”

  He set his jaw and thought back. “I remember having it at the last RV park we stayed at. That Whispering Maples place. Then we went to the American Heritage museum, but we had prepaid passes to get in, so I didn’t use my wallet there, and you used your card to pay for dinner last night… so that must be it. I must have left it back at Whispering Maples.”

  “There, see? That wasn’t so hard. I still have the phone number for the place. Let’s call and speak to them and ask if anyone turned in your wallet.”

  “Oh, you mean we get to talk to our good friend Abraham Selk?” he complained. “That man’s personality was only a few steps above Humphrey Middlestead’s. Especially the way he treated Cream and the other dogs that people had with them there. I’ll be lucky if he didn’t find my wallet and keep it for himself!”

  “Don’t be silly,” she told him, but the same thought had actually crossed her mind.

  “No, I can see it now. He’s going to use my credit card and ring up a huge bill for internet porn. Yup. That, and dog repellent. You watch our next statement. The bill will be massive.”

  “Well, I’m glad you can joke about this,” she told him. “Let’s just call him and see what he says.”

  “Fine,” he relented. “That’s the same advice that I’d give anyone else if they found out their wallet was missing, so let’s do it. Let me have the number.”

  She read it off the business card for him as he dialed his cellphone. When it started to ring he put it on speakerphone and held it out, so they could both hear. She recognized Abraham Selk’s voice right away.

  “This is the Whispering Maples Caravan and RV Park. We’re currently taking reservations into next month. How can I help you?”

  “Hi, Abraham. This is Jerry Stansted. I don’t know if you remember me, but we stayed at your place the night before last.”

  “I remember you,” Selk said, his voice changing from friendly to frosty. “You were the ones with that mangy little chihuahua.”

  Cookie’s jaw dropped open. Oh, how dare he!

  From the bed, Cream’s head popped up, and his eyes narrowed. He’d obviously heard what Selk said too, and he didn’t like it.

  Jerry held up his hand to both of them, asking them to stay calm in the face of such an unwarranted insult. “Look, Abraham, I’m just calling because I appear to have lost my wallet and I’m wondering if someone might have found it and turned it into you?”

  “Wallet?” Selk echoed. “No, haven’t had anyone turn in a wallet.”

  Jerry scowled. “Couldn’t be that easy,” he whispered to Cookie. To Selk, he said, “All right. Can I give you my phone number in case someone does turn it in, so you can reach me?”

  “I guess so. Hold on.” It sounded like it was a big inconvenience for him to go to this much trouble for anyone. “I’m looking for a pen. Just hold on a minute… you know, I really thought you would have been calling about the dog.”

  “Dog? You mean our dog? Did Cream do something?”

  Cream growled. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “That little mop of yours?” Selk snickered. “Don’t make me laugh. That dog couldn’t bark its way out of a wet paper bag.”

  “All right,” Cookie said, “that’s it. Give me that phone. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

  Jerry put the phone to his chest. “Cookie, shh. I’ve got this.”

  Grudgingly, she crossed her arms and stepped back. He just better stick up for Cream, or she was going to step in!

  Holding the phone out again so they could both hear, Jerry drew a deep breath. “Sorry, Abraham. We had a bad connection or something. What dog are you talking about?”

  “That little rat terrier. Not your dog. The other one. What was his name…? Oh, right. Boxer. The one that belonged to that hot woman and the old man she was married to. Stacia and Ernesto Ferris. Their dog.”

  Cookie stared at the phone. Selk was insulting everyone equally, canine and human alike, but that wasn’t what had caught her attention. He was talking about Stacia’s missing dog.

  “What about Boxer?” Jerry asked him. “Did he do something at your RV park?”

  “You might say that, yeah. He died.”

  Cookie and Jerry both stared at each
other. Died? Boxer was dead?

  “Wait, he’s there now?” Jerry asked. “Boxer is there at Whispering Maples?”

  “Yeah, but like I said, he’s dead. You guys want to come and get him, or should I just bury him out back?”

  AS IF THINGS weren’t bad enough for Stacia already, Cookie thought to herself.

  It was going to take them several hours to get back to Whispering Maples. After hanging up on Selk before he could push Cookie’s blood pressure any further into orbit, it hadn’t taken them any time at all to decide to drive back there themselves. It was the least they could do for Stacia. She’d already suffered through so much. She didn’t need to see her dog lying dead and wrapped up in a garbage bag. Cookie and Jerry planned on retrieving Boxer and giving him some dignity. They might even bury him themselves and then show Stacia where the grave was, to save her feelings.

  At the same time, they couldn’t just take off without letting anyone know where they were going.

  They made a quick call to Penny and Franky LaRock. They gave them the basics, and asked them not to tell Stacia yet, and then they disconnected and signed out of Heaven’s Haven. They were heading back down the highway the way they came in less than a half hour.

  Cookie watched the scenery going by, the same scenery that they had passed just yesterday. It was a long way from place to place. “I can’t believe that Boxer went all that way, back to Whispering Maples. He must have really been spooked when Humphrey came for Stacia and Ernesto.”

  “It’s not unusual for dogs to travel great distances when they think they’re going home.” Jerry sped up to get past a slow-moving pickup truck. “When Humphrey scared Boxer out of Stacia’s motorhome he probably took off down the road until he found something that looked familiar.”

  “Animals are amazing, aren’t they?”

  She had once heard a story of a cat in Siberia who had travelled thirteen hundred miles to get back home. For Boxer to walk less than a day back to the other RV park didn’t seem all that impossible by comparison.