Bats and Bones (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries) (17 page)

Donna told
how they got separated, and Frannie finished the story with her account of
hiding in the casket room.

“Wow.” Jane
Ann said when she finished. “You guys are amazing. I would have dissolved in
tears at the beginning and that would have been the end of it.”

“No, you
wouldn’t,” Donna said. “Frannie was so calm, I couldn’t believe it. She kept me
from falling apart.”

“It was
mutual. So your turn to fill us in,” Frannie said to Larry. “Were you already
with the sheriff?”

“We had
been ever since you disappeared. We already suspected Marner, of course, and
when the alarm sounded at the funeral home and the 911 call came in about the
same time, we headed there. We were just debating the best way to go in when
that garage door opened. A stroke of luck.”

“You know
what they say, better to be lucky than smart,” Rob said.

“In this
case, definitely!” Larry agreed.

Mickey got
up and refilled his coffee. “So how much longer do I have to behave myself? In
other words, when are we going to eat?”

Jane Ann
glared at her husband. “After all they went through, all you can think about is
your stomach!”

“Mickey’s
right. We’re going to waste away unless we get some sustenance. I’ll get the
potatoes going,” Frannie said. “Maybe we can get breakfast out of the way
before Sanchez shows up.”

Jane Ann
agreed and went to warm up the gravy. Frannie got a coffee refill and headed
into her camper, followed by Donna.

“Can I
help?”

“Sure,”
Frannie pulled a sack of potatoes from under one of the dinette benches. The
two proceeded to scrub, pierce and microwave enough potatoes for the six of
them plus several extra.

“I hope
Sanchez is able to fill in a few gaps for us,” Donna said.

“That would
be nice,” Frannie said. “And of course, it won’t tie everything up in a nice
little package. Stephanie may still have problems with Trey, Dave Schlumm may
still be a jerk to his daughter, and Stub’s vacation is still a nightmare.” She
got out a baking pan and placed the cooked potatoes on it.

“True. Now
you smash them?” She watched as Frannie used a spatula to flatten each potato.
Then Frannie directed Donna to drizzle each potato with olive oil and sprinkle
them with salt and pepper while she called Larry into light the oven.

“Aren’t
those things a pain to light? We’ve hardly ever used ours,” Donna said,
watching Larry on his knees peering into the tiny oven with a lighter.

“Us
either,” Frannie said. “Only for smashed potatoes.” She shoved the small pan in
the oven, checked her watch, and said, “Twenty or twenty-five minutes.”

They
gathered plates and silverware and went back outside and proceeded to clean off
the table. Rob went back to their trailer for juice and glasses. Mickey came up
to Frannie while she set out plates.

“Hey, Fran,
I’m awfully glad you’re okay. I wasn’t making light of what you went through.
Jane Ann was beside herself with worry yesterday—well, me too.”

“Mickey,
don’t you think I know after all these years that the more stressed you are,
the more obnoxious you get?” She gave him a hug and he gave her a sheepish
grin.

“Really? Is
that what it is?”

“Of
course.”

“I’d better
go help my wife.”

“Excellent
idea.”

Before
long, Mickey came out bearing a pan of sausage gravy, the potatoes were passed
around, and they all settled to a more relaxed and pleasant meal than any since
their arrival. The beautiful weather continued, and the morning sounds of the
birds provided the perfect backdrop. When they finished and pronounced
themselves unable to eat another bite that day—well, at least until
supper since it was a late breakfast—Mickey and Rob offered to do the
dishes. Frannie found an old foil tray and sent the remaining potatoes and
gravy with Larry over to Stub and his friends.

They were
just wiping off the table again and topping off their coffee cups when Agent
Sanchez pulled up.

“Good
morning, folks! Better than it’s been anyway.” They unanimously
 
agreed and offered him a chair, which he
accepted, along with a cup of coffee. He pulled out a small tape recorder. “I
hope you don’t mind, but I need your statements recorded and I thought you
would rather do this out here than at the police station.”

“Yes, we
would,” Frannie said and Donna nodded too.

They all
settled in the chairs. Agent Sanchez snapped on the recorder, gave his name,
the date, and other pertinent details. Frannie and Donna proceeded to retell
their tale, interrupted occasionally by perceptive questions from Sanchez. He
was impressed by the women’s escape attempts and their relative calm through
the whole ordeal, although Frannie didn’t remember being calm at all.

When they
finished, he turned off his recorder and went to refill his cup. Mickey and Rob
exited the Ferarro RV complaining about dishpan hands and rejoined the group.

“So, Ms.
Shoemaker, how did you figure out the black market thing?”

“Marner had
a weird reaction Saturday when the funeral director mentioned that Maeve
Schlumm would be cremated—like he had reason to be pleased about it. Donna
joked afterwards that maybe he was a body snatcher. That didn’t really register
at the time, but combined with his attempt to pick up Randy’s things and the
tissue services address in Randy’s duffel, it was the only thing that made
sense. I had seen a news report about the black market in tissue not long ago.”

“So what’s
happened with Marner? Is he talking?” Larry asked.

“Non-stop,”
Sanchez said. “He’s new at this, thought it would be a snap out here in the
sticks, and that he was invulnerable. So now he’s scared.”

“So why did
he kill Randy? That’s the one thing we don’t get,” said Frannie.

“Apparently
Randy got cold feet. When their trip was cut short, he put the cooler out for
Marner to pick up again and used his GPS to mark it and gave Marner the coordinates.
But the more he thought about it, the more scared he got. Poor guy was pretty
stressed anyway. He had tax problems and saw this as a way out. Thought it was
pretty harmless. Then Marner kills Maeve when he’s making the drop. And when
Randy goes to pick up the cooler, it’s dark so he doesn’t even see the body.
Imagine his shock the next morning when you guys discover that.”

“Stub has
insisted all along that Randy wasn’t a murderer,” Larry said.

“And he
wasn’t,” Sanchez continued. “So he was going to turn himself in and decided to
use the cover of the storm to retrieve the cooler. However, he made the mistake
of telling Marner that he was quitting. So Marner was waiting for him.”

“I think
Marner overheard Stub mention to me that Randy had a duffel bag and shaving
kit. He must have come back here yesterday hoping he could sneak around the
back of Stub’s RV and somehow retrieve anything incriminating.” Frannie said.

“The
address list,” Donna said.

“Yes, that
was exactly it,” Sanchez replied. “And that reminds me, the handwriting on that
list appears to be the same person who wrote your note. We’re having the state
lab confirm that. But it appears that Randy tried to warn you off rather than
threaten you—part of his attempt to make amends.” Frannie tried to catch
her husband’s eye—a perfect ‘I told you so’ opportunity. Sanchez stood
and returned his small recorder to his pocket. “Well, ladies, I hope you don’t
make a habit of this detective work or you could put me out of business.”

“Believe
me, Mr. Sanchez, we have no desire to repeat this,” Frannie said. “We honestly
did not intentionally get involved. We’ve been camping ten years or more and
have never experienced anything like this. I don’t expect we will again.”

“So this
weekend won’t end your camping days?” Sanchez looked around the group.

They all
looked at each other with surprise. No one had even considered not camping.

“Heavens,
no,” Jane Ann replied for the group. “We have a trip planned in two weeks to go
biking in Minnesota with five other couples and we’ll all be camping. The menu
is to die for, in case you want to drop by,” she finished with a grin.

“Out of my
jurisdiction, I’m afraid.”

“And we
have state park reservations for four or five more weekends this summer and
fall, plus we’ll do several county parks,” Mickey added.

The agent
stood and placed his mug on the table. “Well, good luck to you all. And thanks
again for your help.” He looked directly at Frannie, Larry and Donna. “Stay
safe.” He walked back to his car.

They all
waved goodbye and voiced thanks and farewells. He walked over to Stub’s
motorhome to give him a final report on Randy’s death.

The campers
stoked their fire and began to discuss plans to pack up and depart early
afternoon. While they were talking, the sheriff’s car pulled up and the sheriff
along with Deputy Smith, Stephanie and River got out. River ran over to Mickey
yelling, “What’s on the radar?”

 
Mickey pulled out his phone, orchestrated
a few flicks and swipes and turned the screen so River could see it.

“See? No
green, no yellow, no red—going to be a beautiful day.”

Stephanie
came over to Frannie and Donna, who had stood to greet her. “I heard what
happened. I’m so glad you guys are okay and that Trey wasn’t a part of it.”

“No, he
wasn’t,” Frannie said, thinking that she hoped, for Stephanie and River’s sake,
he wasn't a part of something else.

“Did either
of you get injured?”

“We’re
pretty stiff and sore and Frannie got a thorn in her palm,” Donna said, and
Frannie held up her sore hand. “Larry got the worst of it.”

Stephanie
looked over at Larry, who put on a sad sack face. Frannie said to her, “He’s
going to use this the rest of the summer to get waited on hand and foot.”

To her
surprise, Stephanie leaned over and hugged her gently. “You guys are great. I
don’t know what I would have done without you this weekend. Will you ever come
back here again to camp?”

“Probably
not this summer,” Frannie said. “We have a lot of other places reserved. But
this park is one of our favorites and we will be back.”

Sheriff
Ingrham and Deputy Smith walked over and inquired about their welfare today.

The sheriff
said, “I’m glad to hear you say you’re not going to write off our park based on
this past weekend.”

“If we only
run into murder once every ten years,” Larry said, “we should be okay for as
long as we can handle this rig.”

“I’d better
go pack up
my
rig,” Stephanie said.
“River, are you going to help me?”

“Awww, I
wanted to talk to Mickey.”

“He’s the
only one,” Jane Ann said. Mickey hoisted himself out of his chair.

“Rob, let’s
go help River get his stuff packed up. Then maybe we’ll have time for a quick
game of Chicken Feet.”

“Oh boy!”
River shouted. “Let’s go.” He raced around the Shoemakers’ camper to his own
site.

“We don’t
have to run like that, do we?” Rob asked Mickey.

“Not an issue
because neither of us can,” Mickey said. And off they went, much slower.

The sheriff
tipped his hat and said, “Hope to see you in the future then, under pleasanter
circumstances.” He and the deputy got back in the patrol car. Agent Sanchez had
moved his car on down to talk to Dave Schlumm, and with the road open again,
Frannie could see signs of packing up all around them. The Airstream owners had
returned, hooked up their trailer and were pulling out. Stub waved as he and
his friends reloaded the storage compartments again. When they finished, he
came over to say goodbye.

“Hey, I’m
sorry that we really messed up your weekend,” he began.

“Stub, as I
told you before, this was in no way your fault. And you were right that Randy
was not a murderer,” Frannie said.

“That’s
nice of you. I’ve been thinking. I know I told you that no way I would ever do
this again, but you guys have so much fun—when you aren’t abducted, that
is—I might try it again with just my family.”

“Wonderful.
But start small and stay close to home—see if you like it. You guys
have
given us a lot of entertainment
this weekend.” She smiled and Donna agreed.

Stub
laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure we have. Well, good luck to all of you—and happy
camping.”

He shook
hands with Larry and Frannie, but Donna leaned over and gave him a hug. His
face turned bright red. “Gee…thanks.” He turned and retreated to his side of
the road.

Frannie
looked at Donna and Jane Ann and they all struggled to contain their laughter.
“Poor guy,” said Jane Ann.

They
started their packing up process. Frannie worked inside, stowing everything
that might slide or move around. Toothbrushes, drinking glasses, and soap went
back in the bathroom cabinet. The refrigerator was checked for anything that
could spill. The clock, tissue box, and a little vase confined to cabinets or
the footstool. Bedside lamps unplugged and laid on the bed, water pump and
heater turned off, TV antenna cranked down. Finally, she and Larry slid his
recliner near the door and they brought the slide in.