Peete and Repeat (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries Book 3) (6 page)

Saturday morning

Larry pulled their pickup into the nature center parking lot.

“Quite a few cars already,” he commented.

The parking lot was ringed on three sides by large Prairie-style buildings. The largest, in the middle, had a “Visitor Center” sign, so they headed that way.

“Wow. This looks like a pretty big operation,” Mickey said, looking around.

“It’s actually an environmental learning center,” Nancy said. “They have all kinds of programs—day camps, weekend programs for families, corporate and school programs, some just for women. There’s a high ropes course that you might want to try, Mickey.” She grinned at him.

“Uh, I’ll get back to you on that.”

They went in the main entrance and stood looking around.

“Help you?” A young, no-nonsense looking woman stood staunchly behind a desk, clad in a crisp green uniform with an engraved badge reading ‘Deborah McCabe.’

“We just want to look around,” Larry said. “Do you have brochures or maps or something?”

She took one brochure off a stack and laid it smartly in front of him. “Our main mission is intensive
participation
programs for both children and adults. We offer programs for schools, families and corporate retreats. We also have volunteering opportunities, if you are interested in that.” She paused and then continued reluctantly. “We do have exhibits in this building that you are welcome to look at. There is no charge but we
do
encourage donations.” She nodded at a clear acrylic box on the counter with a slit in the top and half-filled with fives and tens.

Larry said, “Yes, ma’am,” and dropped a couple of bills in the box.

As they walked away, Frannie chuckled. “You are as much of a smartass as me.”

“I was not being smart. She reminds me of my fifth grade teacher, Miss Budlong. Except Miss Budlong was much older. But no way I would mess with either of them.”

The others made their contributions and followed. They browsed the small exhibit of plants and wildlife and dioramas of the geographic region.

As they circled back to the entrance, Frannie said, “Just a minute,” and walked back over to the information counter.

Deborah McCabe looked up, disappointed when she saw Frannie again, meaning no large reservations, volunteers, or big donations were forthcoming. “Yes?”

“Aren’t there some hiking trails too?” Frannie asked.

“Yes, there are.” Deborah stood there, stoic.

“Well, do you have a map of those trails?” Frannie asked, as sweetly as possible.

“Yes, we do,” and she grabbed a trifold off another stack and laid it in front of Frannie, who wasn’t about to be frightened off.

“Is there a trail that leads down to that old power plant?”

“There is, but it isn’t safe, and neither it nor the power plant are on our property. We are not liable for them.”

“I understand. Where is that trail?”

Deborah McCabe gave a loud sigh. “It’s off the trail that goes down to the River Bend Campground.” She pointed in the general direction, and returned to her ledger. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Certainly. Thank you for
all
of your help,” Frannie said with a straight face and turned back to her friends, rolling her eyes.

Back outside, after a short conference, Frannie, Donna, Nancy, and Ben decided to try the path down to the power plant and the others opted to check out the high ropes course.

“Not that I plan to try it,” Mickey assured them. “Just want to see what it’s about.”

“I see there’s a session this afternoon,” Ben said. “I think I’ll try it then.”

“If you don’t fall in a hole in the power plant,” Jane Ann said.

They split up and Frannie’s group found the cutoff after passing it only once. Ben led and pointed out tricky footing spots as they gingerly descended into the thick woods and undergrowth. They could make out the shape of the old building through the trees and finally gathered on a small slab at the entrance. In spite of the sun filtering through the trees, the massive relic squatted threateningly.

Nancy entered the opening and gaped at the busted floor and ceiling, bristling with twisted beams.

“Looks like maybe this is far as we go,” she said.

“No, look! There’s a stairway here,” Donna said. She was the last one in and stood in the open doorway pointing down to the right. The stairs were cement and looked sturdy, so she started down hugging the wall. Frannie looked at the others, shrugged and went after her. Ben and Nancy followed. When they reached the lower level, they looked around at the large rusted machinery filling the center of the room and debris on the floor. Sunlit trees could be glimpsed through the window openings, but a deep gloomy chill pervaded the room.

“I’ll bet there’s a great view of the river from those windows,” Donna said, picking her way through the clutter. Frannie was nervous about letting Donna lead; they would be lucky if they didn’t end up hauling her out by a medevac helicopter.

Donna only tripped once, and managed to make her way pretty quickly to the end of the machinery. She looked back at them, saying, “At least the floor is solid here,” and rounded the corner.

She stopped. She gasped for breath and made a mewling sound.

The others halted too, looking at each other in confusion. Donna hadn’t fallen; she stood frozen in place, staring at the floor in front of her.

“Is the floor gone?” Ben asked from behind Frannie.

Donna looked back again, her face colorless. She shook her head.

“There’s two bodies. It’s those twins.” She spoke slowly and quietly, not typical for Donna.

They moved up beside her and saw the carnage on the floor. One of the women lay on her side with her head wedged in the machinery, a gaping wound on the side of her head that had bled profusely. Her sister lay next to her, face up, her skin a sickly grey-blue. Ben sidled around Donna and bent to check the pulse of the woman on her back.

He straightened. “No pulse. She’s still warm though so this must have just happened.”

Donna’s eyes grew wider still as she looked around. “You mean the murderer might still be here?” she croaked.

“Could they have killed each other?” Frannie asked.

“I have no idea,” Ben said. “I think we need to go back upstairs—I doubt if phones will work here—and you can go back up and get help. I’ll stay here.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Nancy said. “The murderer
could
be nearby.”

“And you’re going to protect me?” Ben gave a little smile at his wife.

“Someone has to,” Nancy answered, and Frannie suspected that Nancy, small and wiry and very fit, could hold her own.

She led Donna back up the stairs and out to the path.

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Donna asked, puffing along behind Frannie.

“
If
someone else killed those women, and I’m not so sure of that, both deaths look like crimes of passion—not planned. I don’t think the murderer would hang around. Besides, Ben can take care of himself.” Ben worked out daily and had considerable upper body strength.

They trudged on up the path.

“You don’t think someone else killed them?” Donna said, panting.

“They were having some issues. Maybe it was a murder-suicide or something. Depends on how they died.”

They reached the parking lot and Frannie debated calling 911, but also felt they needed to notify the nature center first and let them take charge. She wished Larry was around but there was no sign of him or the rest of their group. He would know what to do.

Reluctantly she led the way over to the Visitor’s Center. The only Center employee that they saw when the entered was Deborah McCabe at the information desk. Frannie hurried over to her.

“Ma’am?”

Deborah McCabe looked up and frowned when she saw Frannie. “What is it?” So much for customer service.

“We hiked down to the power plant and there are two dead women down there. I wonder if you could call the authorities?”

Deborah did not flinch. “As I told you, we have no liability there. That is not Center property. Don’t you have a cell phone? You need to call 911.”

Frannie stammered. “Yes, I do, but I thought…”

“Is there a problem here?” A pudgy man, also in a green uniform, had come out of an office behind Deborah McCabe.

Frannie explained the situation, with Donna adding embellishments. The man registered much more reaction than McCabe.

“Let me get this straight.
Two
dead bodies? Are you sure? Follow me.” Without waiting for any answers, he turned and marched back in to the office.

Frannie resisted smirking at McCabe as she and Donna rounded the counter and walked into a compulsively neat office.

The man hurried around the desk and pulled the phone toward him but did not sit down. He dialed, and when it was picked up said, “Yes, this is Director Lindorf at the Nature Center. We have just had a report of two dead women down in the old power plant.” He paused. “No, it doesn’t appear to be an accident.” He raised his eyebrows at Frannie and she nodded. “Thanks. Yes, they’re here. We’ll wait for you in the parking lot.” He hung up.

He came around the desk again and motioned for Frannie and Donna to follow him. As they passed the information desk, he said over his shoulder, “Deborah, we’ll be outside waiting for the sheriff.”

“But Bob, you have a meeting in ten minutes with…”

“Tell them we’ll have to reschedule,” and he headed out the door. Outside, he stood where he could see the entrance drive and turned to the two women.

“Were you alone when you discovered the—?”

Frannie said, “No, there were two other friends with us. They waited there.”

He frowned. “That could be dangerous. We need to get back down there as fast as possible. As soon as the authorities arrive.”

They stood in silence for a moment. There was little wind and a few lazy bugs circled them. A perfect early summer day. Laughter reached them from one of the other hiking paths. Larry and the rest of Frannie’s group emerged from the trees on the other side of the parking lot.

“Larry!” Frannie shouted, and motioned them over. When they arrived, Larry looked at the Director standing by Frannie.

“What’s the matter?”

Frannie told him what they found in the power plant. They all talked at once.

“Those women next to us?” Rob said. Like they had run in to a lot of twins that weekend.

“Are you sure they’re dead?” Jane Ann asked.

“Ben and Nancy are still there?” said Larry.

“What are we waiting for?” Mickey wanted to know.

In answer to his question, a sheriff’s car pulled into the entrance.

A petite woman with short brown curls jumped out of the car almost before it came to a stop. As she approached, Lindorf mumbled to Frannie, “Don’t let her size fool you.”

“What’s going on, Bob?” she asked, jogging up to the group.

Director Lindorf introduced her to the group as Sheriff Mary Sorenson and precisely recounted the events.

“The paramedics are on their way, although sounds like it’s probably too late. Which of you actually found the body?”

Donna and Frannie raised their hands. The sheriff jotted down their names and hometown. Frannie gave her Ben and Nancy’s names as well.

“Did you touch anything? Move anything?”

“Ben checked for a pulse—he’s a physical therapist,” Frannie said. As if no one else was qualified to take a pulse.

“Okay, I need to get down there. I would like one of the women who discovered the bodies to go with me.”

Donna usually had to be in the middle of everything, but paled, stepped back, and said, “Frannie can go.”

Frannie said, “Can my husband come, too? He’s a retired cop,” and then thought she sounded like a five-year-old, begging for a friend to go on a family outing. The sheriff looked at the rest of the group and Larry stepped forward a half step and raised his hand slightly.

The sheriff appraised him a moment and then said, “Good idea. Let’s go.”

They had a little trouble keeping up with Sorenson. When they reached the power plant, Frannie introduced Ben and Nancy and indicated the stairway to the lower level. Sheriff Sorenson sent the Terells back to the nature center and led the way down the narrow cement steps. When they got to the bottom, Frannie pointed out the direction to go around the machinery. As the sheriff picked her way through the debris, Frannie noticed that the place seemed to have acquired an even more sinister air, just because she knew what lay on the other side of the room.

She watched the sheriff as the woman turned the corner. A little look of shock before her face turned impassive. Frannie and Larry reached the corner, but stood back while the sheriff examined the bodies. When Sorenson stood, she noticed the open door to the second room, and, resting a hand on the gun at her side, sidled around the bodies, and peeked around the edge of the door.