Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 02 - Trouble at Sunny Lake (6 page)

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 not 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?

And if so, should I use my air horn or just run for the RV?
, I said.
I almost giggled but stopped short. I backed up a few feet, and Scott moved toward me.

I put out my hand as if to stop him, and he paused. He leaned forward. I suppose if I had thought about it, I might have realized that he had moved forward to keep his voice low, not to harm me.

“What did the police tell you?” he whispered. “What happened to him?”

“How did you know it was your brother?”

“I have a police scanner.”

“Oh!” I said. He didn’t seem particularly grief stricken to hear his brother had been killed.
 

His demeanor is most curious indeed,
Ben offered.

No kidding!
I agreed.

“So, what did the police say? Was it an accident?” Scott asked again.

Somehow, I was unwilling to share the information at that moment. I don’t know why.

“I don’t know,” I lied. “I saw you up there, you know. Behind the trees.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I thought you had. I wanted to find out what was going on, but I couldn’t get close enough to hear anything without being seen.”

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

Scott shrugged. His jaw worked.
 

“People die,” he said flatly. “I’ve lost a lot more brothers in Afghanistan.”

I recoiled at his first statement, but I supposed his reaction was one of suppressed emotion and that of a man conditioned to death.

That could be true, Minerva.

Hopefully. Otherwise, he is one cold dude who actually seems capable of murder,
I told Ben silently.

“When did you last see him?” I asked.

“Yesterday. He’s the one who rented the cabin for me.”

“Oh, really?” That meant that his brother’s name was listed as a guest in the office. I wondered why no one had said anything about that. Did the police know?
 

“But that means the people in the office knew him…or knew of him anyway.”

“They did,” he said. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I guess they didn’t know it was Jason who was killed, at least not by today. The police weren’t releasing his name.”