Paddlers, Promises & Poison: A Camper and Criminals Cozy Mystery Book 16
Date: 2021-03-20 00:00:00+00:00
Description: Chelsea O'Connell is found dead in a model home of the new development in Normal. She was not popular in the small tourist town located in the Daniel Boone National Forest because the last thing this town wants is for more development. Detective Hank Sharp has his own hands full. He can't worry about Mae West and the nosey Laundry Club Ladies, now that he found out job cuts are coming to the Normal Sheriff's department. Rumors are swirling around about the Sheriff's department doing some outsourcing and Hank's job is one of them. Mae finds herself at a crossroads. Does she put on her sleuthing
Publisher: Independently published

Paddlers, Promises, & Poison

A Camper & Criminals Cozy Mystery Book 16

Tonya Kappes

Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Sneak Peek

Recipe and Hack from Mae West and the Laundry Club Ladies

Cinnamon Buns on a Stick

Camping Hack

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Preview

The door slowly cracked open.

Ava smiled, eyes grew wide, and she shrugged before she pushed it fully open.

“Chelsea? It’s Ava Cox from across the street.” She stepped inside the two-story foyer, and we followed her, nearly running her over as we all looked around without noticing where we were going. “My friends and I wanted to pop over and take a quick tour in case we have some friends who might be looking.”

There was silence.

“Chelsea?” Ava called again. The five of us stood there quietly.

“Maybe she’s out back smoking.” Dottie snickered.

“Funny,” Abby said flatly. “Let’s go see.”

“Did she leave with the couple in the camper?” Ava turned to Dottie.

“How on earth should I know? I was minding my own business, enjoying my cigarette,” Dottie told us, a bold-faced lie. “Fine. No. She stood right here at this door and waved them off.”

“It wasn’t no more than a few minutes ago. She has to be in here somewhere.” Ava led us down the foyer. “What on earth?”

I looked at what Ava was looking at and noticed the stream of blood.

“Is that…?” Ava’s voice lingered while the rest of us walked past her to follow the red trail.

“Blood.” Betts gasped.

“Blood?” Ava questioned and hurried over near the window in the kitchen, next to the table. That’s when we noticed Chelsea on the ground.

“Stop.” I put my hand out when I noticed the trail of blood had come from her head.

I bent down and, careful not to disturb anything, felt for a pulse.

Nothing.

I glanced up and noticed there was some of her hair on the corner of the table, like she’d fallen, hit her head, and now . . .

“Dead,” I whispered. “Ava…” I sucked in a deep breath because I had to muster up all the strength in my body. “Call 911. She’s dead.”

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Chapter 1

“These houses are going up quicker than lightnin’.” Dottie Swaggert normally stood about five foot nine, but today her hair made her about five foot ten.

The effect was directly related to the fact that she’d left the pink foam curlers in her hair too long—making her head full of red curls stand up even more—with the help of some very strong hair spray.

She took a long draw on her cigarette and slowly let out the puff of smoke in a streamline before she looked at the rest of us.

“What do y’all think?” she asked, bringing the cigarette back up to her lips, her gaze never leaving the model home across the street from Ava Cox’s house.

Betts Hager, Ava Cox, Abby Fawn, Queenie French, and I stood next to Dottie on the edge of Ava’s driveway, looking over at the beginning of what was going to be a newly developed subdivision on some very rare land in the Daniel Boone National Park in our small tourist town of Normal, Kentucky.

“I mean, y’all’ve got to be pullin’ my leg when we sit here and look yonder at what they’re doin’ to our park.” Dottie didn’t wait long enough for us to answer her question. “I can’t believe my eyes. I never figured the day.” Slowly, she shook her head.

All of us shifted at the same time to take in a better perspective. Not that any of us disagreed with Dottie. We all had concerns about hurting the integrity of the land, especially when most of the land was mountains, hills, caves, and cliffs.

“Honestly.” Dottie kept putting in her two cents, which according to her would be worth a million dollars. And unless we did have a million dollars, there was nothing we could do with the development but voice our opinion, and even then it was only amongst ourselves, like we were doing now.

“I’m gonna blame it on you two.” Dottie shook a finger at me and then at Abby Fawn.

“Now, wait a minute here.” Abby, in her late twenties, was the youngest of the group. She was the local librarian and Tupperware consultant for Normal, who just so happened to be a wiz at all things social media. “If it weren’t for us…” Abby turned her head to look at me, as she referred to me being part of the “us.” Her long brown ponytail swept side to side. “Then our economy wouldn’t be doing so well, and maybe your job would’ve been in jeopardy.”

“I don’t think it’s too bad.” Betts, the voice of reason in our group, always looked at the bright side of things. “The houses already here are super nice.” She shrugged and looked around her with her big, round brown eyes. She pushed her blunt brown bangs from her eyes and tucked a strand of her wavy chin-length hair behind her ear. “From what I understand from overhearing Lloyd Hornbuckle, the National Park Committee has taken extra precautions to make sure the land isn’t compromised. And they are making sure there’s plenty of land for the animals and their habitats.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Ava, the local attorney who had just moved to Normal, crossed her arms across her baggy top that hung off one shoulder. She looked very sophisticated with her long, black curly hair pulled to one side, even though she had on a pair of leggings. She had the prettiest olive skin. “When I first moved in, I had a few deer that would show up every day to eat the clover near the stream. When they started all this new construction, I don’t see them as regularly.”

“See there. Proves my point. All these people moving into Normal just can't be right. We are going to be so congested in our little community.” Dottie snarled. “I knew it. I knew it when you come up with the grand scheme of building up the campground and giving all this attention to our little town that people just couldn't stand it. They came to vacation, hike, and God knows whatever they’re doing in the woods, and now they want their piece of the pie.”

“Most people who come here to do all the nature things don’t want to harm the park. And most don’t have the money.” I had been privy to a lot of the National Park Committee’s concerns since most of them were brought up in the meetings.

I knew because I was on the committee.

“Betts”—I glanced her way knowing I just couldn’t let what she’d mentioned pass without getting the full details—“who told you the committee is taking extra steps to insure everything is done properly? I’ve not missed a meeting or heard anything come through.”

I made myself a mental note to look into it. The National Park Committee had already had this month’s meeting, and I would clearly remember if there was some sort of discussion about this property.

“Really?” Betts’s eyebrows arched. She gave a hesitant shrug. “Oh, gosh. I guess I better stop eavesdropping.” She grimaced in a joking way. “I was cleaning Judge Hemmer’s house, and his wife was on the phone talking about a development and how they’d gotten some big-time geotech firms here from Lexington to assess the land. By the way she was talking, I thought she was talking about here.” Betts shook her head. “See what assuming gets us.”

“Y’all are always up to somethin’.” Beck Greer, Ava’s ten-year-old neighbor, stopped his bike in front of us. “Y’all are lined up. What’s goin’ on?”

“Did your mama send you over here to be nosy, Beck?” Dottie’s mouth had zero filter on it.

“Dottie,” I scolded her even though she was much older than me.

“What?” She didn’t make no bones about it. “You and I both know he repeats. Besides, don’t you got some lawns to mow or weeds to pull?”

Beck was very entrepreneurial for his age. When the Laundry Club Ladies first met him— when Ava moved into her new home—he handed us a business card with his name and title, The Mow Monster, telling us about his gig around the neighborhood helping the homeowners with various tasks around the yard.

His eyes lowered as he glared at Dottie.

“Hey, Beck.” Ava smiled at the young boy and sucked in a deep breath as she interrupted the standoff between Dottie and the Mow Monster. “We are looking at the model home. Isn’t it pretty?”

“Pretty? I think it’s an eyesore, and everyone is going to regret letting all this construction go up. And they are expensive too. They have all this fancy marble and hardwood floors. Two ovens in most of the kitchens. Two.” He held up two fingers while he used the other hand to steady his bike. “Who doesn’t like sweet tea?” Beck frowned. “Especially my mama’s sweet tea.”

“I’ll bite.” Abby was amused by Darby Greer’s little mini-me. “Who doesn’t like your mama’s sweet tea?”

“Chelsea O’Connell.” He referred to the realtor for Blair Builders, the construction outfit putting up the big development. “She told Mama ‘too many calories.’ Mama asked Daddy how many calories were in rat poison.” He snickered. “Gotta go!”

Beck pedaled off down the street.

“Rat poison?” Ava’s eyes grew big. “That’s a little harsh for someone who likes to look after her own health.”

“Around here, we drink sweet tea, eat sweet pickles, and like our sweet banana pudding. And if Darby Greer doesn’t want to people to know how she feels, then she shouldn’t speak with her mouth full, especially when it’s full of bull.” Dottie was full of all the southern sayings we had in Kentucky, but some were funnier than others.

This one made Abby hashtag what she’d started to call Dottie-isms.

“That’s a good one.” Abby laughed as she typed away on her phone.

“Dottie, you should be ashamed of arguing with a ten-year-old boy,” I told her.

“It’s true. He hears his mama carryin’ on with the rest of these snooty people in this neighborhood.” She pinched a glance at Ava. “Not you, Ava. You are just a smidgen snooty.”

“Gee, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but thank you. Even though I fear Beck might be right about not being able to sell them.” She’d told us several times how Beck would stop and chat with her while she’d be outside doing yard work. “The neighborhood Women’s Club asked me if I could come sit in on last month’s meeting to discuss their concerns with a lawyer. I went, and they are concerned about the integrity of the land. Just like I was saying, the deer and such.”

“I think we need to get on over there and take a look at all the marble.” Dottie threw her cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of her shoe before she bent down to pick it up.

“That’s a great idea.” Queenie French bounced on the toes of her tennis shoes. She was the owner of the local Jazzercise franchise. She was also the only instructor, which made sense when you looked at her entire wardrobe of slick leggings, bright colors, and headbands for every outfit.

Today was no different. She wore a hot-pink headband in her short blond hair, a hot-pink bodysuit, and white leg warmers.

“We can’t go in there. Chelsea’s car isn’t there.” Ava turned to us. “Let’s just go inside and eat our supper so we can get on the paddleboards before sunset.”

The five of us shifted our focus when we heard a car coming down the street. “There she is now.”

Chelsea drove a gold BMW SUV.

“She must be doing pretty good for herself,” Abby said as Chelsea drove by slowly.

She stared out her driver’s side window at us before she turned into the drive.

From the opposite end, Beck was pedaling as fast as he could, having to put his foot down so he wouldn’t fall as he took a sharp turn into his driveway.

“She’s here all the time, and so are others. I’m not sure how many buyers they have for the lots, but she’s always got someone coming in there.” Ava lifted her chin when a small RV drove up, parking in front of the house.

“Uh-oh.” Dottie elbowed me with a grin on her face and nodded toward Beck’s house. “Looks like someone’s got somethin’ to say.”

“Chelsea! Chelsea O’Connell!” Darby Greer came running out of her house with Beck on her heels. She had an apron tied around her waist with a dish towel tucked in the top of it. She held up a big glass of what appeared to be ice-cold tea.

“Tattletale,” Dottie mumbled under her breath about Beck running inside to get his mother when he noticed Chelsea’s car coming down the street.

Dottie unsnapped her cigarette case to bat out another smoke before she stuck it in the corner of her lips to let it dangle while we watched.

“You think it’s sweet tea?” Betts asked. “She does make some good sweet tea.”

I gave Betts a perplexed look, wondering how on earth she knew Darby’s sweet tea was good.

“Church.” It was all she had to say. Betts really did know everyone in Normal. She should. As the preacher’s wife, she attended births, birthday parties, funerals, and any other event she could fit into her schedule. Everyone around here loved to invite the preacher and his family to anything and everything. If the preacher went to the event, it moved them up on the social ladder.

Strange but true.

“I have something to tell you! And I’ve got you some sweet tea! I hear mine is the best around!” Chelsea screamed, causing me to turn back to watch.

“I sure would like some of that sweet tea.” Abby licked her lips.

“You can run in there and lock the door, but the Women’s Club has something to say to you, so you can take it back to your boss!” Darby Greer wasn’t letting up. She’d picked up speed, and with her free hand, she jerked the dish towel from the apron, twirling it like she was at a sporting event and rooting for her team. Only her scowl told me she and Chelsea were on opposite sides.

“Ladies,” Darby greeted us on her run-by, still flailing the towel above her head and carefully steadying the sweet tea so as not to spill it.

We all greeted her with a smile and a nod but didn’t turn away because we all wanted to watch what was going to happen.

“Listen to me. And I want you to listen good because I’m only going to say it once.” Chelsea O’Connell had on a gray pencil skirt with a tucked-in cream short-sleeved blouse that showed off her svelte figure, reminding me of my old days when I wore fancy clothes instead of a baggy sweatshirt with the Happy Trails Campground logo and bleach stains on it.

Chelsea took the tall glass of tea from Darby.

“What’s she sayin’?” Dottie’s head wiggled around like a bobblehead, almost as if she were trying to read their lips. “I can’t hear them.”

“I don’t know what she’s saying, but she sure does look mad,” Abby noted. “Look at her lips.”

“Which one?” Betts asked because they both looked like they had something to say.

“Both,” I said then looked away when I noticed Darby twisted around to come back. “Stop gawking.”

“How else are we s’posed to see what’s going on if we don’t watch?” Dottie asked, garnering a few snickers from the group.

Just about that time, a sheriff’s deputy car drove by and slowed as if he knew something was going on with Darby and Chelsea.

“Uh-oh…” Dottie dragged out the concern. All of us continued to watch. “Al Hemmer is just itching to get the gun out of his holster.”

Darby jerked her head back to get a look at the sheriff’s car. As soon as he passed, as though he figured nothing but friendly neighbor chitchat was happening, Darby turned right back to Chelsea and jabbed a finger at her.

“I heard Al made deputy.” Betts swiveled her head to keep the view of what was happening. “It’s a good thing.”

“If anyone on that force is a Barney Fife, it’s that lanky kid. And I reckon he got on because of Gab Hemmer.” Dottie was probably right about the judge having some influence on his nephew making the department, especially since I’d heard Gab had been more of a father figure to Al, but I kept it all to myself. There was only one conversation that needed be to taking place at a time for me to even keep up with.

These ladies could go from one subject to another as fluid as water ran and keep up. I would get lost because I never saw a transition between the stories they were telling, but they sure could understand each other.

“Thanks for the tea, hon,” Chelsea said loud enough for us to hear and held it up with a sly grin.

“You will regret talking to me like that!” Darby yelled one last time at Chelsea over her shoulder on her way back across the street, like she had to get the last word in before she passed us on the way back to her house.

The couple in the RV got out of their camper and walked up to Chelsea. The woman had on a baseball cap, and the man had a nice head of curly, thick blond hair.

“What are you gawking at?” Dottie poked me in the ribs.

“Her Gucci.” I sighed. “I used to have a lot of those bags.”

I knew it sounded so spoiled, but I did love a good handbag, and I’d snuck one with me in the camper when I lost everything. Well, I smuggled a bag and pair of socks where Paul had left me some cash that I believed was my 401(k) that he’d stolen from me.

After he floated up dead in my lake at the campground, I was Hank Sharp’s number one suspect. I needed a little information from the bank, and Ann Doherty, the bank teller, was more than happy to take a bribe. My Gucci bag for the information.

“I’m sorry about that. Let’s go in and look around,” Chelsea apologized to them, her eyes grazing their shoulders and focusing on us. She waved.

All of us waved back.

“That woman boils my blood.” Beck had returned.

“Boils your blood, huh?” Queenie laughed. “You mean she boils your mama’s blood.”

“And mine too.” He pointed to himself. “Violet Rhinehammer will be able to bring this whole thing to light and get some attention.”

“Violet Rhinehammer.” I rolled my eyes. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Violet Rhinehammer was the local news reporter. Not only was she on the television news, but she also wrote for the local paper. She’d do anything for a scoop on a good story. Apparently, Darby Greer was figuring this was a good story.

It certainly had the makings for a good one. I could see the headlines now: “Local Development Sends Neighbors into an Uproar.” The chipper young woman with blond hair neatly parted to the side and layered in loose curls, perfect white teeth, and a big smile standing in front of the camera with the model home in the background to deliver the gossip for the day.

Made my stomach curl.

“You just don’t want to talk about Violet.” Betts winked, and all of us turned to go inside.

“Who does?” Queenie was always doing some sort of movement to keep her blood pumping. This time, she had her arms out at shoulder level doing arm circles.

Before we all walked into Ava’s house, I glanced over my shoulder where I noticed Chelsea was glaring over at Darby Greer’s house before she slid her gaze back to me.

Our eyes locked for a few seconds before she turned on those high heels of hers and trotted into the house, slipping her hair to her back.

Chapter 2

“You’re right, Dottie. All of this development isn’t good for the environment when it comes to the animals, and I’m glad Mae is on the committee to help determine the growth of the national park.” Ava led us into her combination kitchen and family room that had a spectacular view of the large babbling brook and woodlands behind her home.

All the ladies headed over to the open kitchen and started to nosh on some of the snacks Ava had set out.

“So you need to be heading over to the park board this week to find out what Betts was talking about,” Ava told me when no one else was looking.

“It looks really nice in here.” I had decided to change the tone of the conversation. I was tired of talking about the development. I was here to check out the brook in her backyard.

It was a source of conflict for the various personalities in the room, and though we all respected each other’s feelings, we also hurt each other’s feelings without knowing it. Take Abby, for instance. She loved social media and all the hashtags. It had not only allowed her to venture outside of the walls of Normal to sell her Tupperware, but also made her some friends all over the country.

Dottie, on the other hand, she believed in having a landline and reading the newspaper to get informed. Abby was respectful of Dottie, but Dottie grumbled and mumbled when it came to Abby’s views. Not that Abby ever complained about Dottie because Abby also respected her elders, but I could tell that this conversation was about to go into how Normal just needed to stay small and not grow with the economic boom.

There was something to Dottie’s theory about how tourists loved to visit Normal because it had stayed small and true to the national park, but we also needed to grow with the world, which meant making new cell towers. I believed these would be useful for hikers and campers who needed to use the GPS systems on their phones, as well as opening up new businesses that catered to the growing popularity of camping and hiking.

“Since I am in charge of finding new hikes, trails, and activities as a board member”—I wanted to clearly state what I was appointed to do so they didn’t expect me to really look into what Judge Hemmer was doing, though I would look into it to scratch my curiosity itch—“I’m excited to get on a paddleboard to find the closest trail.”

The park had so many trails that we needed to find, some that lead to the waterways. I had already opened and fully booked the brook that ran along Happy Trails off the Red Fox Trail. I also provided kayaking, over which local champion kayaker Alvin Deters and I had come to an agreement where I pay him during the warm months to give my guests lessons, making it a big win when tourists were deciding which campgrounds to stay at for their vacation in the Daniel Boone National Park.

“I’m excited y’all are here to sail on downstream.” Ava smiled, and it went to her eyes. It was nice to see her more relaxed than usual.

“I love the colors you painted.” I looked around since I’d not been there since the walls were completely white, and I changed the subject.

Her kitchen flowed into the family room, which had two big sliding doors that were floor to ceiling.

“I did live up to the six-month rule.” She pulled out the finger sandwiches from the refrigerator. Slipping off the plastic wrap I could see the pimento cheese neatly in the middle of the two small pieces of various fancy finger breads. “I lived in this house with white walls for six months to get to know it. I’ve moved that couch around so many times. I’d move it over there, then stare out the windows at various times of the day to see where the natural light hit, then I’d move it over there. Alvin Deters came over with the paint samples I’d picked out and painted some swipes along that wall.”

She pointed to the wall on the right.

“After the six months, I decided on the plum, and it’s so pretty at all times of the day.” She’d gone with a purple color for an accent wall and a light gray for the others, though she didn’t have a lot of wall space.

“I love it.” Betts took the carafe from the coffeepot and filled up the cups for everyone to take. “I think you did a great job.”

“How about your office?” I noticed the kitchen island had been cleared of her office supplies since the last time I was here. “Did you move it to a spare bedroom?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I actually rented some office space in the business district.”

“You did?” Dottie asked and shoved one of the finger sandwiches in her mouth. “I’ll be, you don’t let no grass grow under your feet.”

“I did. I need to keep my personal life separate from work now that I’ve taken on more clients. Plus, it’s close to the courthouse, which is good because I’m always needing to file paperwork and that type of thing.” Ava really did just move right on in and make Normal her home.

“That’s great.” I smiled. “You’re really settling in to Normal.”

“I wasn’t sure I’d like it, but now that I’m here and since, well, there’s no one. . .” Her words fell off when her phone rang. She picked it up. “I’ve got to take this.” She put up a finger, and as she left the room, she put the phone up to her ear to answer it.

“My goodness,” Queenie whispered. “That many people need a lawyer nowadays?”

“Honey, someone’s always suing someone or mad about something.” Dottie wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes.

The four of us stood at the kitchen counter and ate up the snacks while we caught up on what was going on with everyone. Same old, same old.

“It’s all boring until we get into full camping season.” Dottie shook her head and lined up several pretzel rings on her finger before she ate them.

“The winter tourists will be gone soon enough.” Betts was right about Kentucky being on the cusp of spring.

We were currently in the between seasons, and right now was the time people loved to rent the cabins and bungalows around the national park and not really camp or hike in a tent. The trails could be icy in the morning and wet and damp the rest of the day. There were sprigs of green starting to pop up, and the buds on the trees were getting bigger. It was only a matter of time before the wildflowers and tulips bust out of the ground to shower us with the beauty of the vibrant colors the Daniel Boone National Park was known for, giving Mother Nature all the glory for painting a beautiful landscape that no camera could ever capture.

“While y’all yammer on ‘bout the weather that we can’t change, I’m going to go have a smoke.” Dottie picked up her old cigarette case that snapped on the top and headed toward the front door.

Queenie, Betts, Abby, and I continued to stuff our faces.

“Sorry about that,” Ava apologized. “It was Grady Jr.” She looked at me.

I made sure I didn’t give her any indication in my expression or my body language that made her uncomfortable.

“How is he?” I asked in a genuine tone in hopes she knew I really did mean it.

“You know. In prison still.” She blinked a few times as she looked at her phone and then put it back on the counter. “He’s got a parole hearing coming up, but we all know he’s not going to get out anytime soon.”

“I’m still really sorry.” It was all I had to offer. Not that I didn’t ever think about killing Paul West, my now-dead ex-husband, after he pulled off the biggest Ponzi scheme to date and got caught, leaving me—as well as Ava and her son, plus a lot of other people I had grown to think of as family—penniless.

But when Grady Jr., Ava’s son, did kill Paul, it became a whole new ball game for everyone. Even though I truly didn’t want Paul dead, I also knew that Grady Jr. was sick and had been pushed to the limits of what he could handle.

“Is he still getting counseling?” Betts reached over and patted Ava on the hand. “I know Lester saw him a couple of times.”

Unfortunately, Betts and Ava were in a similar boat. Only Betts’s convicted-killer ex-husband was also in the Kentucky state prison.

“You talk to Lester?” Queenie jumped around with a surprised look on her face. She moved so fast her headband fell down over her brow. She pushed it up on her forehead, never once taking her eyes off of Betts because Betts never talked about Lester.

“He has asked the church to start up the prison ministry again. In fact—” she fiddled with a napkin on the island “—he’s been preaching inside of the prison.”

“I wish you’d told us.” It made me sad to think Betts hadn’t told us and left us in the dark. We were always together, and she and I were super close.

“I don’t know. It’s not like I could just say, ‘Guess what, Lester is preaching the good word.’ I mean, I know he killed someone when he knew better but. . .” Her voice fell off.

The front door opened, and Dottie popped her head around it.

“Y’all come on. The camper pulled off, so we can go see the model home.” We all stared at her. “Well? Come on. Y’all are slower than molasses.”

“I want to be sure to go paddleboarding in the stream because I’d like to bring it up to the committee since I will be going there tomorrow to drop off a few of the new trails I found for the upcoming tourist season,” I told them on the way out of the house.

Dottie snuffed the cigarette out on the sole of her shoe before she unsnapped her cigarette case and put it back in there for later.

“That’s gross.” Abby sucked in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, moneybags, but I can’t afford to just throw out a perfectly good half of a cigarette,” Dottie added in a huskier tone.

“Or you could quit and get back on the health wagon like you did after you broke—” Queenie started to say before Dottie cleared her throat, interrupting Queenie.

We’d all been on Dottie to stop smoking, but she wasn’t even considering it even when she’d agree to.

“Ahhhem.” Dottie’s chin lifted, and she kept her eyes straight as we headed across the street.

“After we take a quick tour, we can hurry up and canoe or paddleboard down the stream before it gets dark,” Ava said and gave a light knock on the door of the model home.

The door slowly cracked open.

Ava smiled, her eyes grew wide, and she shrugged before she pushed it fully open.

“Chelsea? It’s Ava Cox from across the street.” She stepped inside the two-story foyer, and we followed her, nearly running her over as we all looked around without noticing where we were going. “My friends and I wanted to pop over and take a quick tour in case we have some friends who might be looking.”

There was silence.

“Chelsea?” Ava called again. The five of us stood there quietly.

“Maybe she’s out back smoking.” Dottie snickered.

“Funny,” Abby said flatly. “Let’s go see.”

“Did she leave with the couple in the camper?” Ava turned to Dottie.

“How on earth should I know? I was minding my own business, enjoying my cigarette.” Dottie told us a bold-face lie. “Fine. No. She stood right here at this door and waved them off.”

“It wasn’t no more than a few minutes ago. She has to be in here somewhere.” Ava led us down the foyer. “What on earth?”

I looked at what Ava was looking at and noticed the stream of blood.

“Is that…?” Ava’s voice lingered while the rest of us walked past her to follow the red trail.

“Blood.” Betts gasped.

“Blood?” Ava hurried over near the window in the kitchen next to the table. That’s when we noticed Chelsea on the ground.

“Stop.” I put my hand out when I noticed the trail of blood had come from her head.

I bent down, careful not to disturb anything, to feel for a pulse.

Nothing.

I glanced up and noticed there was some of her hair on the corner of the table, like she’d fallen, hit her head, and now . . .

“Dead,” I whispered. “Ava.” I sucked in a deep breath because I had to muster up all the strength in my body. “Call 911. She’s dead.”

Chapter 3

It felt like an eternity before I’d gotten all of the Laundry Club Ladies out of the house exactly the way we came in so I could tell Hank Sharp, my boyfriend, our exact steps before the Normal Sheriff’s Department had showed up.

In reality, it was probably only about ten or fifteen minutes, but I’d come to find out when your body was in shock, it didn’t take much for time to stand still.

I stood up when Hank’s big black detective car drove up and parked on the curb in front of the model home. He opened the door, but instead of him getting out, it was Chester, the dog he’d gotten custody of after Chester’s owner had been killed.

Hank took to Chester like a duck to water, and Chester adopted Hank to be his new forever home. Or at least that’s how I like to look at how he viewed getting a pet, and Fifi was no different.

With all the sirens and lights, the neighbors had started to gather outside of their houses and eventually into one big huddle at the edge of Darby Greer’s driveway. It appeared that Dottie was right. Darby Greer seemed to be the busybody of the neighborhood, and that’s exactly why all of them had come together at her house.

I watched as she talked to her neighbors and pointed to her house, Ava’s house, and the model home. Little Beck stood right there and was taking it all in.

“Chester, what are you doing here?” I asked the pup like he was going to answer me. He gave me a second of his time for a quick pat along his back before Hank snapped his fingers.

Chester darted off in the direction of the house and sniffed around like I’d seen him do so many times before, only this time he seemed to be looking for something.

“How does my hair look?” Dottie asked, patting around the curls.

“Fine. Why?” I asked but kept my eyes on Hank in anticipation of what he was going to say to me. He was talking to one of the sheriff’s deputies for the moment.

“Lipstick.” Queenie unzipped the opening of her fanny pack and passed a tube of lipstick across my face to Dottie.

“Why do you need lipstick right now?” I was confused.

“Yonder comes Violet.” Dottie snuffed her cigarette out on the street and took the top off the lipstick to curl it up. “I’m not going to be looking like no roadkill on the television.”

“Geez, what on earth is she doing here?” Betts groaned, even though we knew.

“Here. You need lipstick.” Dottie nudged me, putting the rolled-up tube in my face. “You look a little gaunt, and it’ll be worse on the TV.”

Without even looking at it, I swiped some on and handed it back to Queenie.

“I’m live at the new neighborhood development in the Daniel Boone National Park, and I see one of the National Park Committee members here.” Violet flipped her long blond hair to the side as she hurried over to us. Her perfectly lined lips were laying out the scene for the Channel 2 viewers. “As you can see, it appears there is a dog on the scene, sniffing around.”

The cameraman panned the piece of heavy camera equipment across the front of the model home.

Violet started to shoo everyone away from the shot. Everyone but me.

“Committee member Maybelline Grant West is on the scene.” Her bright eyes twinkled as she had the cameraman turn his camera on me. “Maybelline, can you tell me what the committee is doing about what happened here today? It’s my understanding the builder is in a heated battle with Judge Executive Gab Hemmer over the development of more than the few houses they’ve already built. Care to comment?” She stuck the microphone in my face.

Abby was standing behind Violet doing something with her fingers to her mouth like she was trying to tell me something.

“Mae? We’re live.” Violet got my attention with a whisper. “Why are you here?”

“I, um, I was—” I stammered, unsure of how to answer her question.

“Did you find Chelsea O’Connell?” Her eyes grew, as did the circle her mouth began to form before it splayed across her face into a huge smile, exposing those glistening teeth. “You found another dead body.”

“Did you say the committee is in a disagreement with the builder?” I asked for clarification once her question settled in my head.

“Yes. Apparently, Judge Hemmer and Rod Blair had some sort of disagreement that needed to be brought to the committee, and since you are on the committee, would you like to comment for them?” She stuck the microphone back up to my lips.

I felt panic race through my body.

“If you’re asking me if I think someone murdered Chelsea, then I’d have to say no.” I shook my head. My shoulders slumped at the thought of someone killing her. “It looks like she fell and hit her—”

“Excuse me, Ms. Rhinehammer.” I was going to tell her what I’d seen, but Hank had hurried up next to me. He butted himself into the shot and peeled his sunglasses from his face. His green eyes shifted to me, and my insides filled with the knowledge that everything was going to be okay now that he was next to me. “This is an ongoing case, and neither the sheriff’s department nor I have any further information at this time. We will hold a press conference when we know some more details. Thank you.”

He looked at me.

“You and the sheriff?” Violet stuck her microphone toward Hank. “If it’s just a case of falling, as Committee Woman Maybelline West just stated before you came up, then why would you need to be involved? Or is there more to the story?” Violet Rhinehammer had no shame.

“Violet.” Hank sighed gustily and said, “There’s nothing here to report.”

“You heard it first. This is an ongoing case and right now, we are going to send it over to Melanie, who is at the National Park Office where we are waiting for a press conference from the National Park Committee and a statement from Blair Builders.”

I slinked out of the camera’s view over next to Dottie.

“Look at her.” Dottie snarled. “She thinks the sun comes up just to hear her crow.”

Seductively, Violet looked directly into the camera lens. Her reflection was clear in the lens. She tossed her hair, smiled, and said, “I’m Violet Rhinehammer, Channel 2 News, first, fast and accurate.”

Once the cameraman took the heavy equipment off his shoulder and held it down at his side, he took the microphone from her. They had a side conversation.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Betts asked. “You didn’t even note what Dottie just said about your favorite person.”

Violet Rhinehammer and I had a bit of a rocky past from the last few years. She was not only the local news reporter for Channel 2 News, but also the editor in chief of the Normal Gazette, our local newspaper. And I was sure this would be plastered on the front page in the morning.

Thank goodness I had on lipstick. There’d been a few times Violet had gotten me on camera and in photos without a stitch of makeup on, and not to be conceited, but my deep-down southern roots had ingrained in me that we never left the house without lipstick on.

“She said something that made me remember where I’d seen Chelsea before.” I gnawed on the edge of my lip as the image came to me of her being at the National Park Committee office one day when I went in to get some more brochures for Happy Trails. I’d completely forgotten about it, even when Betts was talking about Judge Hemmer earlier.

“Where was that?” Betts asked just as Ava’s cell phone rang in her pocket.

Ava excused herself to take the call.

“She was sitting in the lobby of the National Park Office, and it was a day Judge Executive Gab Hemmer was there doing some of the legal work for the park.” My voice faded when I recalled what had happened when Gab had come out of the office and Chelsea and another man had bombarded him.

“What?” Betts put her hand on me and asked with concern in her voice.

“Here comes trouble.” Dottie spelled out the word “trouble,” referencing the Travis Tritt country song.

“Knock it off, Dottie.” Violet’s sweet camera side had completely shut off. “So what happened?”

“We don’t know a thang.” Queenie crossed her arms and took a step between me and Violet.

“Is that right?” Violet gave her a blank stare and then snapped her fingers when the front door of the model home opened and out walked Colonel Holz, pushing a gurney with the body of Chelsea O’Connell in a body bag.

“We have a new alert. Coroner Colonel Holz has just walked out of a model home from Blair Builders pushing what appears to be the body of realtor Chelsea O’Connell.” Violet put her hand up to her ear as someone back at the station was telling her something. “Channel 2 newsroom just informed me they have the 911 call that was placed by lawyer Ava Cox. We are going to play that call for you now.”

She dropped the microphone and looked at me.

“Looks like I got the wrong person to interview this time.” She smirked and made her way over to Ava, pulling the microphone back up to her mouth as the cameraman began the countdown to roll it.

“Mrs. Cox, we understand that you made the 911 call to the Normal Sheriff’s Department. Our viewers just heard the call where you said realtor Chelsea O’Connell was stabbed in the neck. Can you give us a description of what you witnessed inside of the crime scene?”

“I have no comment.” Ava pulled her shoulders back, tits up just like we were taught in our etiquette classes growing up.

Not that Ava and I went to etiquette class together because we didn’t, but as a graduate of such southern institutes, you could spot that move a mile away. I could hear the instructor and Mary Elizabeth, my foster mom, now: “Shoulders back, tits up, when you are in the spotlight.”

“But I’d love to fill you in when I’ve collected a lot of the information on behalf of my client, Rod Blair, president of Blair Builders.”

It was like time had stopped. What was Ava talking about?

“Can you elaborate?” Violet Rhinehammer knew she had a hot story, and she was going after it.

“I just got off the phone with Mr. Blair, and we will have a statement for you shortly regarding the death of one of their employees.”

“You mean the death of Chelsea O’Connell?” Violet tried again before she gave up. “Folks, as you can see, there are many things unfolding here at the model home, which is now a crime scene.” Violet went on with her spiel about the live action before she turned her camera and microphone to Coroner Colonel Holz as he passed by.

“That woman has no shame.” Dottie was still focused on giving Violet dirty looks.

“Are you sure you want to take them on as a client?” I asked.

“Of course I do. Are you kidding? These are great for résumé building, especially since I just started my own private practice.” The excitement in Ava’s voice bubbled over. “I’ve got to get to work.”

Ava hurried back over to her house, leaving all of us standing there.

“I hate to tell her, but I overheard Rod Blair say to Chelsea O’Connell after a heated discussion at the National Park Office to get the deal done or else.” I gulped.

“Or else what?” Abby gasped. “Do you think someone pushed her and made her hit her head? I mean, didn’t she just fall?”

“I don’t assume anything. We have a woman dead. A woman who Judge Hemmer had an argument with—and who is her employee as well. Not to mention…” I slid my gaze past them and looked at the neighbors with their heads stuck together as they’d gathered in Darby Greer’s driveway. “Darby Greer’s fight with Chelsea.”

“What if Darby came back after the camper couple left and they had a fight?” Abby’s eyes grew wide.

“What if. . .” Queenie’s eyes grew, too, and it was as if she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“What do you mean what if?” Abby asked.

“What do y’all think she means?” Dottie slid her finger across her throat.

“That means one thing.” Betts sucked in a deep breath. “Laundry Club Ladies,” she addressed us. “It’s time to put on our sleuthing caps and figure out exactly what happened before Ava gets too involved and ends up like. . .” Betts’s voice faded off just as her eyes shifted from us to the church cart as Colonel pushed it past us on the way to the hearse.

Chapter 4

The Laundry Club Ladies and I sat there until Hank had decided it was time for all of us to give our statements. It wasn’t until after the sun had gone down and Chelsea’s body was long gone from the scene. The neighborhood ended up starting a little firepit in Darby’s driveway and kept the snooping party going.

A couple of times I tried to get Beck’s attention, but he was too busy listening in on the crowd that’d formed at his house to pay any more attention to us.

One at a time, we were all called into the house, where Hank had us go past the office where we’d found Chelsea and out of the foyer into the kitchen where the model home had been staged. The papers, camera equipment, tape recorder, and rolled-up evidence bags along with various tools Hank used during investigations were spread all over the kitchen table as a makeshift work station while they processed the scene.

“I want you to tell me exactly what you remember from when you decided to come to the model home.” Hank gave me a heads-up and then gestured for me to sit down and turned on the tape recorder. Then he began asking me the questions. “State your name and occupation.”

“I’m Maybelline West. I own Happy Trails Campground.” I was as clear as a bell and leaned over the table a little so the microphone could pick up my voice.

“Go ahead and tell me how you found the victim.” He nodded at me.

“Well, I… me… me and my friends…” I suddenly got very nervous. My hands started to sweat. I rubbed them down my jeans and nervously recalled the situation. “Ahem. My friends and I were going to spend the afternoon over at Ava Cox’s house and paddleboard on her stream. We wanted to see the model home to be, well, nosy.”

I licked my lips and cleared my throat again, trying not to look at Hank. He always said my nosy side would get me in trouble. Not that we were in trouble, but we sure were in a bad spot where a homicide had taken place.

“Keep going. Just the facts,” Hank encouraged me.

“Anyways, Dottie said—Dottie Swaggert,” I told the tape recorder. I wasn’t sure who was going to hear this so I felt like I had to be very thorough. “She’s—” I waved my hand and shook my head. “Anyways, she said the camper van had left so we could run over really quick to take a look.”

“Camper van?” Hank sat stiffly in the chair across from me. “What camper van? None of the others mentioned a camper van.”

“Oh. They didn’t?” I guess I wasn’t supposed to start that far back. “Okay. We opened the door… no.” I changed my mind. “You know that whole confusion thing after a shock? Well, I seem to be having that.”

Hank had always told me that after someone goes through a stressful trauma such as finding a dead body, they can sometimes forget particular things that really could be main clues. Since I’d had a concussion from a wreck a few months ago, I’d still not gotten quite back to myself.

“Mae, are you okay?” Hank reached across the table and put his hands over mine. “Do you need a minute?”

“No. I’m just not sure where you wanted me to start and I got a bit confused.” I smiled so I could reassure him I was okay. “Anyways, there was a couple who came to look at the model home. Chelsea greeted them so she must’ve known they were coming. We had gone inside Ava’s house for a bite to eat, and Dottie went to smoke. While she was outside, she saw the couple leave, and that’s when we all went across the street, here, and when we found Ava.”

“Did you see the license plate? Hear anything? Screaming?” He hit me with all sorts of questions, and I shook my head. “Can you describe the camper van? Color? Model?”

“No,” I stated.

“Did you see the couple that went in?”

“Yeah. They were your typical younger couple who looked like us.” I shrugged and looked down at my sweatshirt and jeans with my hiking boots. I shoved back a strand of my curly hair. “The lady had a brown bob that was cut about here.” I used my fingertips to sweep past my jawline. “Gucci!”

“Whatcci?” Hank’s brows dipped.

“The lady had a Gucci bag. I sorta swooned over it. I’d know that bag anywhere.” It was true.

“You mean you can’t tell me what a huge camper van looked like or even anything about the couple except they looked like us? Normal?”

“Right. So when I saw the bag, I was curious as to what she looked like, and I only saw the back of her once Chelsea had apologized for Darby’s behavior.” I sat back and sighed.

“Darby’s behavior? Who’s Darby?” He asked then looked over at the deputy sitting with us.

“She’s the neighbor across the street, sir.” The deputy told him. “She didn’t hear anything. Said she was in the house.”

“Why was the victim apologizing for Darby?” Hank asked me.

“I didn’t hear what they were saying, but Beck told us that Chelsea boiled his blood, and I’m sure he heard that from Darby.” I was thinking I needed to start this whole thing over.

“Who is Beck?” Hank asked.

“Mrs. Greer’s son.” The deputy looked through his notes. “Darby Greer’s son,” he clarified when he noticed Hank’s confusion.

“Can you leave me and Mae alone?” Hank had turned off the recorder. The deputy got up, and after he was ear distance away, Hank continued, “What on earth is all of this? I’m so confused.”

“Why is he here?” I pointed back to Al, the deputy, where he’d made his way over to the other deputies who were collecting for the crime scene.

“He might take my job.” Hank clenched his teeth, his jaw tensed.

“Take your what?” I gulped, and more fright fled through me than when we’d found Chelsea O’Connell’s body.

“That’s why it’s important I get this murder solved with no loose ends and fast.” His words sent chills all over my body.

“Murder?” My eyes grew.

“Colonel Holz did a quick evaluation, and it appears Chelsea had tea in her mouth at the time of death. There was a cup on the table. With the quick droplet test, it showed remnants of poison. We won’t have any sort of final chemical makeup until the labs results are in, but it looks like someone wanted her dead.”

My mouth dried.

Chapter 5

It came as no surprise to any of us that we decided not to go back to Ava’s to finish eating the food we’d brought or to tell her goodnight. Obviously it was too late to do any of the activities we wanted to do in the stream, so the five of us piled back in Betts’s cleaning van to go back to the Laundry Club to get our cars and call it a night.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Betts looked over at me from the driver’s side. “You’ve not said a word since we left.”

I was staring out the window with Hank on my mind. Every place I looked reminded me of something or somewhere or an event that’d taken place with Hank. If he lost his job, what would he do? It wasn’t like jobs were plentiful in a small southern town, much less one that was deep in the Daniel Boone National Forest.

The carriage lights that dotted Main Street came into focus as we got closer and closer.

Betts took the road on the right since Main Street was one-way on each side of the grassy median where Hank and I had spent many dates and picnics on the picnic tables that sat among the large oak trees on each side of an amphitheater.

The amphitheater was another fond memory. We’d already gotten this year’s calendar of events that were going to take place there and circled the ones we wanted to attend. They ranged from classic music concerts to outdoor movie nights.

The posts on the lantern were gaslit, and they glowed a silence that stung me in my heart. Soon the several ceramic planters would be filled with spring arrangements to welcome the eye. Twinkling lights around each pole made the entire area magical, even when the temperatures were low.

Every shop that ran along each side of Main Street gave me a memory. The Smelly Dog, a pet groomer, was where we took Fifi and Chester. We’d eaten at the Normal Diner a million times and shopped for all the things we needed at the Tough Nickel Thrift Shop. Deter’s Feed-N-Seed was a staple when it came to things we needed for the campground. These were just a few memories that used to comfort me but made me sit in fear now.

The shops were freestanding, cottage-style homes with small courtyards between them.

“Mae?” Dottie put her hand on my shoulder as she leaned in from the back of the van. “What’s going on?”

“I wasn’t sure I needed to do this because Hank really doesn’t like when I put my nose into things, but ladies…” My voice faded as Betts pulled up to the Laundry Club. She shifted the gear into park. I unbuckled my seat belt and turned around in my seat to look past Betts and at my friends. “I think Hank is in trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Abby asked. “Trouble how?”

“Does he know something about that darn sheriff? I’m telling you that they ain’t no good down there. Now that Hemmer’s boy is part of the department, it means he’s got one more foot in the door.” Though I hated to hear what Dottie was saying, I couldn’t dismiss it as untrue. “What do they do with all them illegal drugs and stuff they find people trying to smuggle in and around the park?”

Dottie always had some sort of conspiracy theory that I attributed to the fact she watched way too much crime television.

“No. But he said something that told me his job was in trouble. I’ve not gotten all the details, but…” I continued to tell them how Hank had made mention his job was on the line.

“Then it means one thing.” Betts was about to throw some sort of wisdom out that I really didn’t feel like listening to. “We have to find the killer and fast, just like Hank said. He needs us.”

“He didn’t say it was a full murder yet.” I bit my lip and prepared myself to tell them what I did know. “Colonel Holz said the preliminary test at the scene appeared to be poison.”

“Poison?” Everyone’s jaw dropped.

“And”—I emphasized the word to make sure they continued to listen so I could finish what I had to say—“Hank certainly didn’t mention that he needed us. He just said he had to solve the murder fast if it was a murder.” I blinked a few times and let the idea settle in my mind. Once something got into my head, it was hard for me to get it out, and this seemed to be settling really fast.

“Poison sure does sound like the murdering kind of dead to me.” Dottie’s smug expression revealed an air of conquest.

“And who is faster than us?” Queenie’s head stayed still, her eyes shifting to each one of us. “I think we can do this again. Even if she wasn’t poisoned, which we all think she was, then who pushed her? Did she fall over? Was someone inside with her?”

These were all great questions from Queenie, and she was right, they all deserved to be answered.

“I’m totally in. I love this stuff.” Abby rubbed her hands. “Murder or not. We might as well get a jump on it.”

“You know I’m in.” Dottie snorted. “And I say we get started right now.”

“I’ve got the time.” Betts smiled. “And the place.”

“I’ll get the coffee on.” Dottie jumped out of the van, and the rest of us followed.

“I’ll get the notebook.” Abby gestured to Betts’s office once we got inside the Laundry Club.

Just like always, we headed past the television area, where a couple of customers on the couch watched television while they waited for their laundry to be finished, and then walked past the tables Betts had set up with puzzles as we made our way back to the book club area, where Betts had a bookshelf of books and some chairs for people to sit and read while they did their laundry.

She’d really made it a homey place, which was great. There weren’t too many laundromats that were this nice, and when you were camping and needed clothes, it was nice to be able to find a place like the Laundry Club.

“What do we know?” Abby sat down with the notebook we’d used for clues before and clicked the pen. “We know the victim is Chelsea O’Connell. She’s a realtor and works for Blair Builders. She was possibly poisoned.”

“That’s a start.” I eased down into the chair and started to go through my list. “We already have three suspects, but we only have one name.”

“Three?” Betts asked as she walked into the office.

Queenie and Dottie had joined us after they’d started the coffeepot, which was also available for customers to enjoy for free. It was one of those southern hospitality things that was engrained in all of us. Even though this was a place of business, one of us owned it, and that meant no matter who walked through our door, we gave them the benefit of the doubt of being a friend, smiled, offered them a cup of coffee, and kept special treats on hand for them to enjoy.

It was only when someone betrayed our trust that we slammed the door in their face, locked it, and blessed their hearts without them even realizing it.

“Yep, three.” I held up my fingers. “Darby Greer.” I stopped talking to let them get their mumbles out. “Hear me out before you guys start bemoaning.” I waited for all of their attention. “Judge Executive Gab Hemmer. And Rod Blair.”

“I’ve got just enough left for us.” Betts had re-emerged with one of those store-bought coffee cakes with only half left in the box. “I opened it this morning to put out with the coffee for the customers.”

“I’ll pass.” It did look good, but so did all the other types of sweets I’d consumed during the holidays that had decided to form their own community on my hips. Nothing I was worried about. With spring soon coming and all the cleaning up that needed to be done around the campground to get it whipped back into shape, those extra pounds would fall right off.

“I’m trying to limit the sweets.” I patted my hips and was met with groans.

“I’ll take her part.” Abby shrugged and smiled. “Have you had Bobby’s cinnamon rolls?”

“Bobby?” Dottie snickered. “Since when did Bobby Ray start going by the one name?”

Betts walked around with paper plates tucked up underneath her arm and swept the opened box in front of everyone, letting them take a plate and pick their piece.

“News to me. I’ve only known him as Bobby Ray.” I teased Abby knowing the new romance she had started with my foster brother, Bobby Ray Bonds, was in the honeymoon phase. “And to answer your question, I have not. But I’ll be sure to ask him about it.”

“I swear they taste just like these but gooey and better.” Abby took a bite and set the rest of it back down on the plate on the tops of her thighs. “Speaking of Bobby. We’ve got plans to watch some television tonight since this starts his day off. So let’s get moving.”

Bobby Ray worked as a mechanic at Grassel’s Garage. He worked six days a week there and was off on Sunday. And Sunday was the busiest day for the campground.

“And we have to get some sleep for the busy day of check-ins,” I told Dottie, who’d already eaten the piece of pastry and had moved on to licking her fingers.

“Yep. Glad you’re opening because you’ve got two check-ins early.” Dottie glanced over at me with her brows raised and eyes wide open. She must’ve seen the look I’d given her since I’d asked her not to let guests check in before nine a.m.

“How early?” I asked.

“Seven,” she spouted out and took a drink of her hot coffee. “They paid the extra fee to come early. I reckon they are together. One is hauling a fifth wheel while the other is renting.”

“Then we need to get down to business.” Queenie must’ve been feeling guilty about eating her share of the pastry because she started to do some leg lifts while she sat in her chair.

“I heard you mention Gab Hemmer when I was getting the food.” Betts pinched her lips like she’d just eaten a sour grape. Her head tilted. “Are you stretching this one?”

“No. You’re the one who overheard his wife talking about a development on the phone. It could’ve been this one. I mean, it’s the only development going on here now.” I looked at Abby, and she was writing everything down. “Even Violet Rhinehammer mentioned something about it. Did you hear her?” I looked around at everyone to see if they all heard.

“I heard Violet, but that doesn’t mean I listen to her or take a darn thing she has to say as truth.” Dottie eased back in her chair. “I think I can speak for the group when I say that. Violet Rhinehammer will say anything to get any sort of information. She might say a lie just so someone will come back to correct her with the truth.” Dottie shook a finger at me. “That girl has played that card all of her life.”

Dottie should know. She had lived in Normal, Kentucky, all of her life.

“She knew something, and Betts obviously heard right because now that I’ve been thinking about it, I did witness some tension at the office, but I didn’t question it. I knew I’d seen Chelsea somewhere before but I just figured it was a television ad or something. There’s always some sort of feuding going on with the committee and environmentalists.” Not that the development had any, but Blair Builders had a lot of hands in various projects all over the Daniel Boone National Park, not just the part of the park here in Normal.

“What about us seeing Al drive by?” Abby looked up from the notebook.

“That’s right. Why would Al be patrolling out there? That’s ranger territory too.” Queenie was right. Normally the line between where the sheriff patrol ended and the ranger territory began was mostly patrolled by the rangers.

“We can play devil’s advocate and say they were busy today so it was put on the sheriff’s list to patrol.” Betts just had to put that spin on it.

“Write it down anyways,” I told Abby. “I can check with Agnes to see if they were patrolling the area. Then it wouldn’t be so out of sorts. Though, I could see him doing some checking around for his daddy.”

Still, it was unusual for deputies to be patrolling.

“Think about it. It’s an election year for the judges and the mayor. They are willing to make promises to people to keep them elected.” I looked around. “Is it something where the judge promised one company one thing and another something different? Did he think he could back one and slip it in the committee through the back door? It makes sense that I knew nothing about what Betts had overheard if he’s doing something under the table.”

“What if it wasn’t with Blair Builders and that’s what some of the fussin’ is about?” Dottie and I loved to play that what-if game when it came to putting our sleuthing caps on, and not to brag, but most of the time we did come up with some sort of lead to sniff out.

“Which brings me to the third suspect.” I held up three fingers. “Rod Blair.”

“Her boss?” Queenie changed legs. “Didn’t Ava say Chelsea was doing a great job?”

“She said how there were a lot of people coming in and out of the model home, but she didn’t say if she was making the sell.” There were a lot of ways to interpret things people said, and this was one of those times. “But I remember seeing him, too, at the office and he said to her that she better get it done. Or else.”

My “or else” was met with a big, “Oh.” Everyone did a little shimmy shake and leaned back with a big grin on their face.

“Then we will start with the first one.” Abby moved to sit on the rug on the floor and laid the notebook open so we could see it when she wrote down the things.

The notebook had sorta become our little sleuthing secret. Somehow me and the Laundry Club Ladies always found ourselves mixed up in something, and sometimes it was the other side of a murder. I guess we didn’t really just so happen to sneak into one, but we butted in and our nosy side had to be scratched.

Like Betts would always say, we weren’t being nosy. It was our way of praying for them by keeping them in our thoughts and on our lips. Gossip.

This time I had a huge reason to help figure out who killed Chelsea O’Connell, and that was Hank Sharp.

Over the last few years, I’d seen Hank change jobs from being a park ranger to the sheriff’s department where he took over as the lead detective. One might not think the Daniel Boone National Park would need a detective or how on earth could we have so many murders, but in the park, there were a lot of illegal things that happened, and the park rangers could only do so much with the few they had.

The park itself was over seven-hundred thousand acres, and that’s a lot of woods, caves, canyons, and ledges that could hide a lot of things. Mainly Hank was called in to investigate drug smuggling through the park or even people coming in to grow dope or illegal moonshine. But this time, it was him who was needing the Laundry Club Ladies to do what they do best.

Snoop.

“Didn’t y’all look at Darby? She was hopping mad about something, and even though we have no idea what she and Chelsea seemed to be arguing about, and with everything Beck had said, then I think we have a valid reason to look in on her.” Abby talked at the same time she wrote Darby Greer’s name underneath the suspect column she’d printed on the page. “I’m not a mother, but I was a kid, and I do know that everything he said he’d heard from somewhere. Plus, he mentioned the iced tea.” Abby looked at me. “Hank said tea, right?”

I nodded.

“I’m sure the poor kid just rides around on his bike and does his odd jobs. He’s probably bored out of his mind.” Betts gave me a great idea.

“Which is why we need him to come to work at the campground so I can pick his brain.” It was a perfect plan. “Do you still have that business card he gave us when Betts moved in?” I turned to Dottie.

“Mm-hmm.” Her chin dragged up and down real slow. “I have it tacked up on the corkboard.”

“Abby, write down under Darby’s name in quotes, ‘that woman boils my blood.’ And you already wrote about the tea?” I recalled what Beck had said, but Abby shook her head. “I’m going to ask him about it. So plan one is for me to call Darby Greer tomorrow to see if Beck can work for me for a few hours this week around the campground.” I gnawed on my lip. “What’s the weather supposed to be?”

“Cool sixties. Just enough to bring the crazies out.” Dottie snorted since we all knew this was the time when college kids or just-out-of-college kids loved to flock to the park and do all sorts of outdoor activities that put the rangers on high alert.

“Which is really good for now since Hank will be the only person the sheriff can rely on to get the case solved.” I smiled. “With our help, of course.”

“Of course.” Betts wagged a finger at Abby. “Put down Judge Executive Gab Hemmer. I clean his house. I can snoop around and see if his wife knows anything.”

“When do you go there?” I asked.

“Monday morning, first thing.” Betts’s forehead softened. “I could definitely use some help that day. Pick you up around seven?”

“Don’t worry.” Dottie waved a hand in the air. “I’ll work your shift. I like Hank Sharp, even though Agnes gets on my nerves.”

“Thank you.” I loved how Dottie was like a hand-dipped ice cream cone. She was hard on the exterior but a big old softie on the inside. “Speaking of Agnes, I’ll drop by her house tomorrow and see what she knows.”

I really wanted to go by there to see what she knew about Hank’s job. If anyone in that department knew something, it was Hank’s granny, Agnes Swift. Not only was she the dispatch operator but she had her hand in everything. If there was some truth about Hank’s job, she’d already be in the loop whether they wanted her to be or not.

“What about Blair Builders?” I asked, not sure how to proceed with that lead. “Do we have any contacts there?”

“They are pretty new to the area. From a quick search I did, their main offices are in Slade.” It was another town in the Daniel Boone National Forest that wasn’t necessarily too far, but with all the back roads that were one lane and all the hills through the forest, it took longer than I cared to drive. But anything for Hank.

It was what I kept telling myself.

“They’ve been having their meetings at the library. They keep the conference room on reserve. I can see when they are scheduled for the next meeting and try to shuffle in and out.” It was a good suggestion, but time was of the essence with Hank, and if I had to use Abby’s suggestion as a last resort, I would.

“Okay, put that on there, but I think we need to get something this week.” My mind felt jumbled, and nothing good was coming to me.

“Since I am the president of the Historical Preservation Society, I can make a little pit stop. Give them some information about the history of the park and see if they’d like to come take a tour of the museum.” Queenie just might have something.

“I think that’s a great idea.” My mind thumbed through my calendar for the week. “I’m off on Wednesday. Maybe we can drive to Slade to check them out,” I suggested to Queenie, and when she agreed, I said, “Abby, can you find their contact information and give it to Queenie?”

I already had stored too much in my head to get their information. I knew Abby would send it, and on Wednesday when Queenie got in the car, we could use the GPS system to get us there.

“I’ll also check out the file about Chelsea and see what her living situation is and make sure her personal life didn’t have something to do with this.” Abby was a genius. “I know she was married because I saw a ring on her finger.” Abby shrugged, held her hand up in the air, and stared at her empty ring finger.

“Are you trying to picture a big old diamond on that finger because let me tell you that your hopes are set too high for Bobby Ray Bonds to get you a rock unless it’s from the five-and-dime’s rock candy machine.” Dottie cackled. “That boy don’t have a pot to piss in.”

Abby’s eyes snapped at Dottie. Poor Abby.

“Don’t pay Dottie a bit of attention,” I told her and gave her a sympathetic look, but Dottie was right. Bobby Ray lived for free in one of Happy Trails Bungalows, and he didn’t have any sort of expenses.

In fact, when Bobby Ray had tracked me down in Normal and showed up one sunny day, Dottie thought he was a drifter and shooed him off, but when I recognized him, I knew I couldn’t turn him away. After all, it was Bobby Ray who had given me the three thousand dollars to hop on a Greyhound bus and create the life I had. It was a rocky road to where I was now and right back in Kentucky, the state I’d tried to escape from many years ago, but I owed him. He was there for me when I needed him, and I was there for him when he needed me.

He wasn’t poor, but I certainly didn’t know if he was ready to take on another person to pay for, and that meant I needed to protect him and Abby. I loved them both.

Abby let out a long sigh, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. She was young, but good about shaking off nonsense and not getting upset with Dottie or holding it over her head, keeping a grudge.

“Then it’s settled.” Betts pushed herself up to stand. She walked over to the coffee table and picked up the notebook where Abby had written out what we’d discussed. “Tomorrow you can talk to Darby at church.”

“Church?” I asked.

“Yep. Darby is actually in the choir, and tomorrow they are doing a little performance. Plus, I know Mary Elizabeth would love to see you.” Betts Hager, though no longer the preacher’s wife, was still good at poking the engrained Baptist, go-to-church-every-Sunday at me. When she threw in Mary Elizabeth, it was my cue that my foster mother had put into Betts’s head that Betts needed to talk to me about getting my heinie in the front pew of the Normal Baptist Church. Here was her opportunity.

“Anything for Hank.” I wasn’t going to let the guilt get to me. Too much.

Chapter 6

“What’s this business about Hank Sharp’s job?” Dottie asked me on our way back to Happy Trails Campground.

I was always leery to drive at night. The darkness had closed in on us, and the backroads in the Daniel Boone National Park could be tricky, which meant I had to take it slow. Especially this time of the year when the deer had emerged from the cold and the clover was ready for them to eat. They would pop out of the woods along the road, and it was hard to swerve. If you swerved at the wrong place, that could be the end of you with the various cliffs.

There weren’t any sort of streetlights or highway lights on the roads, which meant it was up to the old Ford Focus’s headlights to do the job. But a film of grime had covered them, and they were dim. It was something Bobby Ray could take care of, and it would give me an excuse to go see him. That’s when I would bring up Abby and what his intentions for her were.

“I don’t really know. The first I heard of it was when he said that it was important for him to get this murder solved quickly. I’ll be sure to ask him about it tonight.” I turned the car into the drive that led up to the campground.

I smiled, looking at the old arched wooden sign above the road that read Happy Trails Campground. I remember the first time I’d seen it and had put it as one of the first things to replace, but the old sign had been there since the beginning of the campground and had grown on me. Of course, we could’ve replaced it, but it now had some sentimental value.

“Do you reckon he was just talkin’?” Dottie asked. I shifted my eyes from the road to look at her. She stared straight ahead.

“I don’t think so because he brought Chester with him.” It was something that had bothered me about the whole investigation when I’d seen Chester jump out of Hank’s car.

Chester was a hunting dog, and he had a great nose on him. A couple of times, Hank had just so happened to bring Chester to a scene and Chester had sniffed out some key details, but from what I understood, it was just by sheer chance. Today, it looked deliberate, which told me Hank was serious about getting the case closed if he’d already started to rely on Chester, even though he wasn’t a trained police dog.

“You know, I never even figured on why he was there.” Dottie put her hand on the door handle after I pulled up to her camper, which was the first one on the right just beyond the storage units and across from the campground office. “Are you really going to get you some religion in the mornin’? After your seven a.m. check-ins,” she reminded me, though I didn’t need the reminder.

She opened the door and swung her feet out, turning over her shoulder to look at me.

“I am. I think it’d do Mary Elizabeth some good.” I smiled.

“I reckon you oughtta pick me up on your way out.” Dottie got out of the car and didn’t turn back around.

“I’m going to do night check,” I called out before she shut the door to let her know I would check on the campground before I went to bed. It was easiest to do when Fifi needed to go potty.

My little yellow camper van was a few camper lots away from Dottie’s. It was important for me to live on-site in case anyone needed me. Most campground owners had seasonal campers that they could use to stay on the property for free. In exchange, they would work the gate or entrances to the campground. They were generally paid with free hookups at the campsite and various other free amenities.

Dottie was already here and established so we did things a little differently. I was a very type A personality so I liked my hands in all the pots. Tomorrow would be a long day of staying in the office and checking people in. Online reservations had made things much easier, but they still needed to give me their license number as well as a signature.

I pulled onto the concrete pad and could already hear Fifi barking. Poor thing. She’d been in there all day, and I felt horrible. I’d spoiled her by taking her pretty much everywhere and letting her have free rein.

Though I knew the campground was safe, there was still a killer out there, and you never knew what could be lurking in the campground.

I gripped my flamingo key chain with the tiny camper key on it and looked around in the dark while I headed underneath the awning of my camper. There were twinkling lights I’d strung around the arms of the awning and up along my camper van, but it was only for decoration. Clearly they didn’t give off enough light to see much.

I had a picnic table underneath the awning that I loved to pull out during the warm months. In the winter, I stored it in one of the storage units so it didn’t get ruined. We did have snowfall and some harsh winters since the ice and snow had a hard time melting because the sun didn’t get too hot during those months.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl.” I bent down once I’d gotten inside and grabbed up my little poodle. “Oh, I love you too,” I talked to her in a baby voice and let her give me kisses all over my face. “Let’s go potty.”

I put her on the ground, leaving her to dance around me as I grabbed her leash and at the same time looked to see if she’d gone potty in the camper. To my relief, it appeared she hadn’t.

“I know you want to run around, but it’s dark and you know what that means.” I clipped on her leash and opened the door. “You can’t be someone’s snack.”

She darted out, extending the leash to full capacity, stopping just shy of it jerking her back. She was so smart. She knew the limits the leash gave her. Since she had been cooped up all day, I let her choose which way she wanted to go. She picked the direction to the right side of the campground.

“You can take your time,” I told her as she darted from budding tulips, to car tires, to pieces of grass, to tree trunks, giving them all the sniffs. I walked in the middle of the main road of the campground. It made a circle around the lake in the middle and some of the camper lots were on the outside of the road. These lots went fast with campers who had little kids.

They liked to be near the lake since it offered a lot of things for them to do as a family without leaving the campground. We had a little pier from which they could fish, dip their toes in, or just swim around. We also had paddleboats. Those were a big hit. Then we had the sandy beach where they could play, sunbathe, and just hang out.

Along the shoreline were various fire rings where they could just pop a squat all day and cook there at night.

There on the far end of the lake opposite the entrance of the campground was where all the bungalows were located. They were rented by bedroom size and how many each could hold based on the guests’s needs.

Off the main road were several smaller gravel roads that lead back to more primitive campsites and some tent camping.

The prices had various ranges, but every rental included all the hookups. I couldn’t imagine going camping with no water or electric hookup. It was included in the price, but they didn’t have to use it.

We had a bathhouse and restroom facility along with a couple of washers and dryers in the recreation room that was located a little behind the office. That was another big plus with families because we did offer free snacks along with vending machines and a game room.

I clicked on the flashlight and slowly walked from campsite to campsite around the perimeter of the lake to make sure the fire rings were cleaned out, the firewood piles were restocked, and the sites were clean of any debris or trash. There were many things that you had to think about as an owner of a campground. Since we were surrounded by the forest and many trees, all the lots were nicely nestled, giving everyone some privacy, but that came with a price. Falling limbs could ruin a camper. They weren’t built all that sturdy anyways, so when a branch came down, it could really do some damage.

Now that we were in a little more open space than driving on the roads, the moonlight was high in the sky and lit things up naturally. The dark-blue sky was filled with stars, and I knew many of their names. And for a brief second, I forgot about the day’s troubles, which was exactly what I wanted the guests at Happy Trails to do after they pulled in and set up for their vacation.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get home.” Ty Randal was sitting in his camping chair in front of his camper. Ty was a full-time resident of the campground. He had moved into his parents’s RV after he moved back to Normal from California to help his father take care of his siblings after his father had taken ill.

Thankfully, his dad was all better and even working some at their family diner, Normal Diner, located in downtown Normal.

I jerked the flashlight in his direction to spotlight his face.

“Geez, Mae.” He dragged his hand up in front of his face to shield his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about what I overheard the mayor and Sheriff Truman talking about in the diner.”

Fifi recognized Ty and hurried over to get her chin scratches and belly pats from him. Ty was such a southern gentleman. He stood up when I walked over, and though I tried to gesture for him not to, he did it anyways.

“You know that my mama is looking down on me, and if I don’t get up when a lady approaches, she’ll make me pay.” He snickered. His blue eyes lit up underneath the moonlight.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to meet your mama. I think we would’ve gotten along just fine.” I had a brief relationship with Ty when I first moved to Normal. He hadn’t paid his lot fee and Dottie had let people slide.

I was going to be the big bad you-know-what and knock on the camper doors to either evict them or get my rent. It was then that I began to realize the magnitude of just a little kindness going a long way. The Randals were one of those families. But Ty was a charmer by design. It exuded from him, but that was my problem. He was too nice.

Hank, he gave me a bit of a run for my money. Made me earn his attention, and well, I did like that, and you’ve seen how we ended up.

“Here.” Before Ty sat back down, he offered me a camping chair next to him then flipped open the cooler full of beer. “I think you’re gonna need one of these too.”

This was a situation I’d never been in with Ty before. He had helped me out a few times on a couple of cases. One of those few cases I’d gotten a little too nosy on, and he was good at it.

He took the neck of the beer, held the top against the arm of the chair, and, using his palm, popped it off before handing it to me.

I took the extended bottle from him and pushed my hair back from my face.

“What did you overhear?” I asked about him mentioning the conversation between the mayor and the sheriff, both elected officials.

“Did you know they have bought some land and plan on extending the sheriff’s department?”

Immediately I thought of where the station was located. It was actually attached to the courthouse and in the business district along with all the other businesses in Normal. Things like doctors’s offices, dentists, and those types of things. The only shop was the Cookie Crumble Bakery. That was owned by my friend Christine Watson, and she’d move the bakery to the downtown area once there was something available. That didn’t look to be anytime soon.

“I was playing chef, waiter, and cashier because my dad had to go to the school for the boys’s Grandparents Day.” He snickered. “It’s so funny because he has to do it all. Grandparents Day, Mothers Tea, you know all the things a single dad does.”

“He is a great dad.” I smiled and recalled just how much his father had done for him and his brothers. “But you are a great son because he couldn’t do all of those things if you were off in California making all the fancy food for those rich people.”

It had been hard for Ty to pursue his dream of being a huge chef and then when tragedy struck, tucking tail to come home and giving that dream away. Didn’t that seem familiar? Not the chef part but the trying to leave only to be brought right back to what you were running away from.

“I wish he’d hire more people, but Dad always says that if we do, then they won’t give it the personal touch that it was meant to have.” And that was the one thing I did love about going to their diner.

“He’s right. It is the best place for a homey feel, and the tourists love they can get that. It’s a little special touch.” I’d had enough of the chitchat. I tugged on Fifi’s leash after she, too, got tired of the conversation and meandered around the camper tires to see what were the smells. “So, what did you hear?”

“Like I was saying, the mayor said with the growth of Normal they need more space in the courthouse. With one courtroom and a small county clerk’s office and the circuit clerk’s office, it’s getting too tight. When the sheriff asked her what she could do about it, Mayor Mackenzie said the only thing they could do was to take the wing of the sheriff’s department off and use it for more space.”

“What does that have to do with Hank?” I asked, in fear that I could already see where this was going, but if Ty had firsthand information he’d heard with his own ears, it wouldn’t be hearsay, would it?

“They don’t have it in the budget to build a new building next to the Cookie Crumble Bakery unless they did some cuts. The sheriff said they’re already shorthanded with the few deputies on staff. In order for them to get out, they’d need to extend their budget, and the only way to do that would be to get rid of Hank.” The words sent chills all over me.

“Get rid of him? Exact words?” My heart began to race.

It was one thing for Hank to sort of feel they were doing it, but for them to have actually acknowledged it really did bring the words to a whole different level.

“Yeah.” Ty shook his head. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“Did they know you heard their conversation?” I asked.

“No.” He took a swig of his beer, and I took the opportunity to down mine. “Mayor Mackenzie said she didn’t know if that was possible with a new camping season starting and how the rangers were also short-staffed.”

“How did the sheriff take it?” I asked but honestly wasn’t sure if I even wanted to know.

“He said that he’d been going over the numbers of what she’s asking, and he handed her a piece of paper with all sorts of figures on it.” I started to talk, but he shushed me by holding up his beer bottle. “I know what you’re going to ask, and it’s if I saw the numbers. I didn’t. I thought I should tell you so Hank can be looking over his shoulder. Though I did hear there was a murder over at the new development. Maybe they need to keep him.”

“Yeah.” I gnawed my lip. “Maybe.”

I was going to keep the information that Hank had mentioned to myself because for one, it was Hank telling his girlfriend, and for two, I didn’t want Ty to think I already knew and was pumping him for more information.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to let him know.” I stood up and put the beer in the trash can outside of the camper. “It’s bedtime. I think I’m going to have a long day tomorrow.”

The sound of gravel spitting up underneath tires followed by the beams of two headlights coming up from the entrance of the campground got our attention.

The vehicle slowed down when it got closer to us, and we saw it was Hank with Chester hanging out the passenger window.

Once Chester saw us, there was no driving past without him howling his head off to grab Fifi’s attention. Hank stopped the car, and I walked over. Ty got up and followed. Fifi danced in circles with the leash zipping in and out, making Chester bark.

“Hey.” I greeted Hank with a forced smile. By the way he looked at me, I could tell he sensed something was going on in my head. “I’ll take him, and you can go park.” I opened the car door to let Chester out.

“Hey, man.” Ty did the whole guy-thing greeting. “I heard about that murder. You got the killer yet?”

“Nope. Got some leads.” Hank slid his eyes to look out the windshield while he tapped the steering wheel with his fingers and slid his eyes back at me. “What are you two doing?”

“I’ll see you two later.” Ty didn’t wait around to see what I told Hank. I could appreciate that he didn’t really want any part of the conversation. Just passing along the information.

“What was that about?” Hank put the car in park, deciding not to go park it at the camper he’d restored over the last six months to move into after he’d rented a camper from me.

He’d only been living here a while because he was living on his parents’s property in an old trailer, but when they moved back home after a long time away, he decided it was time to be on his own. That’s when he fixed up an old camper to live full-time in Happy Trails Campground, even though I liked to tell people it was because he wanted to live by me.

“He told me he overheard Mayor Mackenzie and Sheriff Truman talking about your position at the diner today.” My words were met with a few nods. “He said the mayor is really pushing to make more room in the courthouse for the growing economy. Need more space for county clerk, circuit clerks, and such.”

“Makes sense. With Normal growing as fast as it has been, people are down there more paying their taxes, getting their licenses, property, and all that stuff.” Hank’s voice was monotone. “Did he say if they named me specifically?”

“Yeah.” My voice fell away when I noticed the hurt in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Unfortunately, it appears as if Al Hemmer is going to shadow me on this case.” There was a wounded look in Hank’s eyes. “I guess they are setting the tone for who will take over investigations.”

“He’s a joke.” I snickered. “He was driving past Ava’s today, and he did slow down when he noticed Chelsea and Darby having their little heated conversation.”

“He was over at the development?” Hank asked as if he didn’t hear me the first time.

“Yes.” My mind began to ruminate on a “what-if”: had Al Hemmer stopped by on his way out of the development, after the camper couple left and when we were in Ava’s house eating snacks? “I thought it was odd that he’d be patrolling out there.”

“He shouldn’t’ve been. That’s ranger territory, and there wasn’t anything on the ranger board yesterday to keep them from patrolling their own area.” When Hank was a part-time ranger a few years ago, he always complained how he had to do his job and the deputies’s job if one or the other had something else on their plate.

“How would him being out there be tied to Chelsea O’Connell’s fate if she were murdered?” I knew that her death hadn’t been technically marked as a homicide, but the more time that passed, the more the motives for people kept adding up.

“You have the sheriff race, and I hate to say it, but the last time there was a murder here, Jerry mentioned that if this kept up, they were going to have to hire more people.” Hank’s cheek muscles stood out when he clenched his jaw.

“More deputies mean more money to pay them which means cutting someone from somewhere.” He pointed to himself.

“Do you think Jerry is running a corrupt department to get what he needs to be reelected?” I questioned Jerry Truman’s motives and morality for getting elected.

“I wouldn’t put it past anyone these days.” Hank ran a hand through his hair before he reached over to pull me close to him. “But I can’t have you worrying about this. Heck. Maybe Chelsea wasn’t poisoned and we’ve wasted good time together when there’s nothing we can really do about my job security.”

“We can focus on getting Chelsea O’Connell’s murder solved so we can show them how valuable you are and that they can’t afford to let you go.” If Hank Sharp knew me, he knew I wasn’t going to let anyone take his job without a fight or a few fusses. I was good at both.

“Let who go?” Dottie Swaggert appeared in front of Hank’s headlights, nearly scaring me to death with her head full of pink sponge curlers under a shower cap. She had on her green satin pajamas and matching fuzzy slippers. “Well? You gonna answer me?” She took a long, slow drag from the cigarette in her right hand while her left hand rested on her jutted-out hip.

“What on earth are you doing out here?” I asked because it wasn’t too long ago that I’d dropped her off and told her I’d do the rounds.

“I’m getting in my nightly walk for my hip and enjoying this gorgeous night we have here, but I’m sensing something’s wrong.” She walked over to the passenger side where I was still hanging in the window while Fifi and Chester did a great job of curling Fifi’s leash around my ankles as they played. “Now, who is going to let who go?”

“Mayor Mackenzie wants the sheriff’s department to move out so she can have more room. Something about Normal growing and stuff.” I knew Hank didn’t want me gossiping about his job, even though Dottie was playacting about not knowing. Thankfully, it appeared Hank had fallen for it.

So Dottie kept right on.

“How they gonna afford that? They are already stretched thin down there.” She pointed her finger with her lit cigarette at Hank. I jerked out of the way of the burning end so as not to get singed. “Look at you down there. You ain’t got nothin’ down there but a desk in the middle of the room. You’re the big Detective Hank Sharp, and you need you an office. If I were you, I’d tell them to find their own space and leave you out of it. Next thing you know, they’ll be gettin’ rid of you.” Her mouth ran a mile a minute.

I stood there with my jaw hanging open as I tried to concentrate on what she was saying. There was a difference between a southern accent, a hillbilly accent, and Dottie Swaggert’s accent. It was like all of the tones were rolled up into one, and my mind just couldn’t translate that fast.

“Honestly, that’s not a bad idea. I mean, I don’t need a cell or nothing. I generally don’t take people into custody. I just use my computer and sometimes I use the interrogation rooms, but I can do all that…” His voice trailed off. “Listen, I’ve got to make a couple of quick calls. I’ll be up for coffee in the morning.”

“Me and Dottie are going to go to church. Do you want to go?” I asked, and when he hesitated, I continued, “It’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“Absolutely I’ll go. I need that big guy in the sky right now.” We both knew that Hank could use any and all help he could get if Mayor Mackenzie already had something in motion.

Rarely did that woman have a plan that didn’t come to fruition.

With that, Hank drove a few more campers down, got out, and whistled for Chester. Chester’s ears perked up, and he took off running to Hank.

“What was all that business about him needing to make some calls?” Dottie asked.

“I don’t know, but I sure will let you know in the morning after coffee.” I wrapped my arms around my waist and hugged myself tight, shifting toward her. “Right now, we need to get some sleep. We’ve got our own work cut out for us. And thank you for acting like you didn’t know about Hank’s job.”

I knew she didn’t need any thanking, but I wanted Dottie to know just how much I did appreciate her and our friendship.

“I was thinkin’ about that Chelsea stuff.” Dottie reached up and adjusted one of the pink curlers as we walked back toward my camper and hers.

Uh-oh, I thought to myself. When Dottie gets to thinking, it can sometimes get us into trouble.

“Yeah?” I asked and reeled Fifi in a little tighter as a cloud flittered over the moon, creating more darkness around us.

“Do you reckon what Betts was saying about Hemmer’s wife’s conversation was spot-on?” Dottie was back on the subject of Chelsea O’Connell’s murder, which wasn’t far from my mind either.

“I’ve thought about that now that—” I gulped “—we saw Al at the crime scene.” Dottie’s eyes grew big and her mouth dropped as if she’d just remembered he’d driven past. “I can’t decide if it was the sheriff that sent him over there or Judge Hemmer. Both appear to have a motive.”

I knew I was going to have to put Sheriff Jerry Truman on the list, though I hated to do it because he and Emmalyn, his wife, had become a fun couple for Hank and I to hang out with, but when it came to livelihood and money, friendship seemed to come last.

“Well, it is awfully strange that some of the key players with this development are in the government.” She sighed. “Which one is more crooked?”

“That’s the million-dollar who-murdered-Chelsea-O’Connell question,” I agreed.

It was late, and I needed all the things I’d learned today to really sit in my head so I could mull them over. It was like someone took a puzzle, shook up the box really good, opened it, and tossed all the contents into my head.

Chapter 7

The next morning, there was no time to dillydally. I’d gotten up early to let Fifi out and then get her all fed and settled before I put on the pot of coffee so I could get my shower and be ready before Hank showed up for coffee—and before I had to meet the early camping guests at seven.

I knew Mary Elizabeth would throw a giant hissy fit if I showed up in anything less than a nice dress and a strand of pearls, so slipping into some comfortable jeans and a sweatshirt was out.

There were a couple of key pieces of clothing that I’d kept from my glory days of the wealthy housewife, and since there wasn’t hardly any storage in my small camper van, I had no need to keep a large closet full of clothes. Key pieces were things I could use for various occasions.

“Hm.” I stood in front of the small closet in my bedroom that was literally the size of a broom closet. Long and thin. “Which one should we wear?” I asked Fifi, who had decided to jump back on the bed and make herself comfortable on top of my pillow.

I took out two hangers. My phone beeped. I put the two dresses on the bed and headed up to the kitchen counter to get my phone off the charger when I saw the Laundry Club Ladies and I needed to text back and forth a couple of times to make sure we were all on the same page.

“Green or floral?” I asked Fifi when I went back to the bedroom to pick a dress.

Now, the green one was nice and solid with a belt around the waist that was perfect for interviews, funerals, and more formal things. I held the green one up to my chin, and Fifi looked at me.

“Or floral?” I moved the green one and replaced it with the white dress with huge flowers.

The floral one was great for summer outings, weddings, or even fun date nights with Hank.

Fifi laid her head down on the pillow. Abby must’ve gone to the library after I left the Laundry Club to get her research started. After her last text to the group, she called.

“Green was my first choice too.” I took Fifi’s lack of interest as a sign and pulled the green dress over my head, fluffing my curls out before I answered Abby’s call.

“Chelsea O’Connell is married.” She told me something that we pretty much already knew because she’d mentioned Chelsea had a ring on.

Luckily it didn’t take me too long to get ready because there was no way I could wash my hair every day. It took hours for it to dry, and today was not the day to run around with wet hair. “She has one little girl, and I think she’s under five years old. I couldn’t get an exact date she was born, but I’ve got to go down to the clerk’s office to pick up some paperwork. They owe me since after their last election I did a lot of marketing for them.”

“What else?” I had grabbed the notebook from my bag and sat down at the small café table in the front of my camper van to write down what Abby was saying.

“She’s been the Blair Builders sales associate of the year for the past three years. I looked up what exactly that meant. She’s outsold everyone in their entire company. It comes with a ten- thousand-dollar bonus. That’s a lot of cash. And their company is fifteen hundred employees.” That number scared me.

“That means anyone in the company could’ve killed her to knock her out of the running.” I didn’t like the odds of how many people I might have to look into.

“Or what if her husband got tired of her being at work all the time and he offed her?” Abby threw me for a huge loop.

“Why would you say that?” I asked, excited to hear her answer since we all knew that the spouse was always looked at first.

“According to some court paper recently filed down at the circuit clerk’s office, Phillip O’Connell recently filed for divorce seeking full custody of a minor child.” This bit of news was very interesting. “She’s contested it. Her lawyer is from out of town in Slade. They were supposed to be in court tomorrow.”

“Oh, gosh. Do you know the time?” I wondered how this whole proceeding would go if she was dead.

I quickly pulled the phone from my ear and texted Ava.

I understand Chelsea O’Connell was supposed to be in court for temporary child custody agreement between her and husband. What will they do with that case tomorrow?

She answered so fast.

They will still call the case but dismiss it because the husband will now have legal custody unless you’re thinking he killed her. Interesting. We should talk.

“I don’t have the time.” Abby’s voice was drowned out from Fifi barking her head off when Hank knocked on the door.

“Hank’s here for coffee before the early check-ins I have this morning, and he’s going to go to church with me and Dottie.” I unlocked the extra dead bolt I had put on the door since it was my real home and all my earthly possessions were in there. And the regular door locks that came with campers were so flimsy Fifi could knock them open. “Keep digging and let me know about Blair Builders.”

I waved for Hank to come in, and Chester didn’t need any invite. He was already inside eating what kibble was left in Fifi’s bowl.

“Great. I’ll send you everything in a text.” Abby got off the phone.

“You look beautiful.” Hank’s eyes lit up when he looked at me.

“It’s an election year for Mayor Mackenzie too,” I told him, ignoring his comment and putting my phone back on the charger.

“Can’t you take a compliment?’ he asked.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” I smiled, looking at how cute he did look in his white button-down shirt, skinny red tie, and khaki pants. “But we don’t have time for all these nice compliments. We have to save your job, and I think I know why Mayor Mackenzie wants to expand the courthouse. For her own gain.”

“I’m listening.” Hank gave me a peck on my lips when he passed by me. He sat down in one of the chairs at the small two-person kitchen table where I had the notebook with all the Laundry Club Ladies clues in it laid open to my list of suspects.

“I bet Mayor Mackenzie needs all the votes of the new residents for her election, and I recalled a small write-up in the Gazette about it. I think Violet Rhinehammer covered the story.”

I knew the Normal Gazette was up at the office because I kept them all. We stuck a paper in each camper’s wood bundle as kindling for their fire rings.

“You think she’s going to use the idea that she’s growing the structure of the government by expanding the courthouse as part of her platform?” Hank asked with a faraway look in his eye like he was pondering how right I was.

“Yes. If the article is the one I’m thinking about, it’s an editorial from Violet saying she’s come across some emails to the mayor with new residents complaining how it’s taking too long for building permits and about the lines at the courthouse to get a new license for a change of address so they can get all of their banking moved over.” I rolled my wrist around so he got the picture of all the things the courthouse provided. “And with the population boom, these people are having to wait. I also believe there were some longtime residents who complained how the good old days were nice and everyone went into the courthouse to get their stuff done and chitchat. Now they don’t like standing in line.” I smiled at him because I knew exactly what she was doing. “If she doesn’t get this done, her job as the mayor just might be coming to an end.”

“And it is an election year.” Hank reminded me that in the fall we held our elections. “If she gets elected for a third term, she’s set for life.”

“And she’d scratch anyone’s back to keep her position.” It was an intriguing and unsettling thought to even have an inner feeling that somewhere in the Normal government the elected officials would stop at nothing, even murder, to make sure they got what they wanted.

Courtney Mackenzie and Jerry Truman, along with Judge Executive Gab Hemmer, all had motive to keep their jobs for various reasons related to Chelsea and her position at Blair Builders. Gab had motive because of the development. Courtney had motive to grow the courthouse since the town was growing and she needed the money to move the department. Jerry had motive because he wanted a bigger department and if Hank stood in the way, they didn’t have the money. And Al Hemmer driving past just an hour or so before we found Chelsea dead was a coincidence? No way.

But which of the three had really done the job to get what they wanted?

Mayor Courtney Mackenzie?

Sheriff Jerry Truman?

Or Judge Executive Gab Hemmer?

Chapter 8

Hank and I had finished our coffee well before the seven a.m. guests arrived. I made sure Fifi was all settled before I headed up to the office in my car, leaving Hank to go check on Chester before he said he’d meet me up at the office.

The files for the early check-ins were waiting on my desk in the order Dottie liked to file them. First, there was the contract that gave all the particulars about the rules of the Daniel Boone National Park as well as the campground. Things that covered no littering, no fires outside of the fire ring, no feeding the critters, no leaving food outside of your camper or sleeping area, along with the visiting hours of the campground.

Most campgrounds had a gate and a gatekeeper at the entrance with strict rules about when the gates opened and closed in the morning. I didn’t have that. I took it upon the guests to be responsible enough to be respectful of the surroundings and that included the other campers. We did ask they be in the campground before eleven p.m.

There were other rules in the packet that came from the rangers about the hiking hours, trails, and what trails were off-limits during each season. It was just easiest to put all the rules in the packet to have them sign and keep on file.

Thankfully, I’d yet to have to get on anyone for breaking any rules.

The next piece of paper was the amenities and map of the campground along with the numbers of each lot. When I quickly looked at both reservations, I noticed Dottie had already circled the lot numbers she’d either assigned them or they’d picked.

Abby was such a whiz at the internet, she had put together our website along with an interactive map so when guests were booking their visits, they were able to pick which lots they wanted to camp in if they were available.

The lots around the lake were always taken first and most of those were families. It was the friend groups who tried to pick the lots in the woods. The bungalows were generally rented for wedding parties, bridal showers, family reunions, and such because they liked to have a fully stocked kitchen.

Today, the guests seemed to have Class-C RVs and took spaces next to each other across the lake from my camper. They’d also gotten a few of the guest baskets, which was the next piece of paper.

“Birthday basket and spa basket,” I read out loud on my way over to the closet where I grabbed a premade birthday basket and spa basket off the shelf. “And the Gazette,” I said to myself as I went to shut the closet door and noticed the stack of newspapers on the closet floor. “You’re next,” I told the stack and left the door open while I went to put the baskets on my desk.

The baskets were a special add-on feature that complemented the guests’s stay. Since this one included a birthday basket, I could safely say someone in the group was having a birthday, and they were also gifted a spa basket, which was really nice because there were not only items in there for a nice, relaxing massage that included various oils, lotions, and facial masks, but it included a manicure and pedicure in-RV.

Over the past year, I’d gotten to know Tex. Um, no last name. Just Tex. Tex was a hippy chiropractor who had become a good friend to me and Mary Elizabeth. He’d done more than just chiropractic work on both of us and really dug down deep into some of my emotional baggage that I’d like to happily say was in my past.

Tex had befriended another friend of mine, Glenda Russel. Long story short, they needed a place to live over the winter months and had asked me if they could live in one of the bungalows. Of course, I never turn anyone away, especially a friend. I knew them well. Both of them had good hearts and their souls belonged in nature, which was where they preferably liked to live, under the blanket of stars in tents.

We’d had a brutal winter, worse than most, leaving us to rely on each other for entertainment due to roads and trails being closed and too much snow with freezing temperatures to do much else than cook. The bungalows didn’t have heat. Bobby Ray had put heat in his, but none of the others had heat since I really hadn’t put that much work into them.

But when I told Tex and Glenda they could live in the bungalows, I knew I had to get them some heat. Bobby Ray was able to install some baseboard heat for me at a fairly good cost. I hired him to install the heat in all the bungalows, which would only be a bonus for next winter season because I knew I could market them for winter or romantic getaways, but this year we’d all huddled together, making food and riding out the winter while enjoying each other’s company.

When you’re one who loves to be in nature, it’s only fitting to start getting a little itchy and bored when you’re cooped up. That’s exactly what Glenda had done. She started to surf the internet, and that’s when she decided that she wanted to open a mobile spa.

I, being the entrepreneurial woman I’d become known as around here, encouraged her every step of the way. Plus, Tex was a Reiki practitioner as well as a licensed medical esthetician, which meant he was able to perform small things like IV drips, Botox, and various other medical procedures that would be in a fancy spa like the ones I used to frequent in New York City.

Since there weren’t any available storefronts in downtown, it was a perfect match to take a camper van and convert it into a spa.

One night over supper, we’d obviously had too much sweet tea to drink and started to come up with different business ideas for Tex and Glenda that weren’t just warm climate jobs like the chiropractic gig he did in the deep woods. Practically no one knew about it unless they tripped over it, as Mary Elizabeth and I had literally done when we were hiking and Mary Elizabeth had turned her back.

Anyways, we were enjoying each other’s company a few months ago over a plate of comfort food and that darn sweet tea as we snuggled in with a nice fire, when Glenda came up with the brilliant idea. One thing snowballed into another and before I knew it—which was what sweet tea could do to you—I had drawn up a business plan and the Pamper Camper was born.

Our little joke turned out to become an actual business that was not only a great place for Glenda and Tex to have full-time shelter if they wanted it, but generated them a wonderful income as well as a much-needed spa for Normal.

I was marketing the idea to my guests, especially the women, as a much-needed mani-pedi after a nice, long hike or a deep massage after that long hike for the men and women. I had put it out in one weekly email chat, and the slots we’d willy-nilly put together filled up in hours.

I’d yet to participate in the camper van spa experience, but that was only due to the fact that Glenda was booked. It had become a great success, and she and Tex were already thinking about expanding to two mobile units.

Just thinking about what they’d created made me smile as I finished up the paperwork for the new guests.

I sat back in the chair and glanced over at the closet. I had a few minutes before my seven a.m. guests arrived, and there was no sense in wasting time. I got up and refilled my mug before I headed over there to sort through the papers to find the article I’d seen that Violet had written.

I popped a squat on the floor and plucked off each weekly newspaper until I was about halfway down the stack. I’d not realized the article had been written late fall. It’d been that long? Time sure did fly. But it also meant Mayor Mackenzie had some time to think about what was taking place with the new citizens and how she would be able to use it to her advantage once spring came and do what she needed to do to get the extra money to create more room in the courthouse. Now, I hated to believe she’d do anything such as murder to get what she wanted, but the truth of the matter was that maybe she didn’t have anything to do with it. Maybe she told Jerry Truman that he needed to figure something out.

I shivered at the thought that someone would even think that way. But I’ve learned that if I could think it, someone else had already done it. When it came to greed, money, or jealousy, people would stop at nothing. It didn’t matter about their morality.

I read the editorial out loud.

“‘It has been brought to my attention from various citizens that the lines down at the courthouse for all the branches of government have had longer waits than usual. What some considered a social hour while going to get their driver’s license renewal or sheriff’s inspection for their new vehicle has turned into a couple of hour’s wait time with no socializing to be had. In fact, the growing population in Normal has the citizens concerned. One concerned citizen stated that when he approached the mayor about what the planning and zoning office was going to do about the new subdivision being built by Rod Blair or Blair Builders, the mayor just smiled at him and told him economic growth was good for Normal.

“‘Economic growth good for a national park? That should be the question posed to Mayor Courtney Mackenzie when, in fact, land development only creates more of an environmental issue when it comes to the stability of the mountains, cliffs, caves, and trails the park was built around. If all of those are compromised and taken away, why would anyone want to come visit Normal for the outdoor vacation they have embraced?

“‘These are questions we here at the Normal Gazette are working on for you, our loyal readers. Stay tuned. Editor in Chief, Violet Rhinehammer.’”

After I was finished reading it, I put it aside and quickly thumbed through the next weekly paper, then the next and the next, until I got to last week’s.

It wasn’t like it took me long because honestly if it weren’t for the obituary section and the sheriff’s report, along with the week’s events in and around the national park, there’d not even be a paper.

There was nothing else written about the development. If I recalled correctly, though I had little memory of that time because I had gotten in a car wreck that made my mind a bit fuzzy, when Ava Cox had moved in, there wasn’t any sort of development across her street, so this article had to have been written when Blair Builders had filed for a permit.

Rays of light filtered through the window, catching my attention. I took the stack of newspapers along with my mug and got up, placing them on my desk. It was Sunday, and I knew Henry Bryant would be doing one last check this morning on the campers, tent sites, and bungalows that were going to be rented today. This meant he would go around and make sure everyone had their supplies for their campfire pits which included all the tools, wood, the s’more making kits, and a newspaper to help start them.

There was no way I wanted him to take these copies. After church, I’d come back and look through them again to make sure I didn’t miss something.

The sun had already popped up and filtered through the lower tree branches, spanning the magnificent rays across the campground as it did every morning. There was a tickle inside of me that hoped the guests would be here soon because it was going to be one of the sunrises that a photo just couldn’t do justice, and I was giddy for them to watch as the sun peaked a little higher, and as the deep-purple sky floated magically into a pink haze right before your eyes.

I set the baskets on my desk and grabbed my cup. I walked over to the coffee maker and filled it up, stepping outside to take in the sunrise for myself.

With my hands cupped around my mug, I took in a few long and deep breaths, giving my silent thanks and gratitude for being able to witness such a spectacular sight. Then I took a few sips that would set my day off to a great start, a day where I needed a good sign now that I had a list of people to see and talk to about Chelsea O’Connell.

Not that starting off my morning having coffee with Hank wasn’t the absolute highlight of the day. It was absolutely something I enjoyed, but today was the day I’d start to figure out if Chelsea O’Connell was part of a greater scheme to inch Hank out.

“Hey there!” I yelled and waved at the couple getting out of their fancy Class-C camper, followed up by another couple in their RV. “Welcome to Happy Trails Campground. Can I get y’all a coffee while you have a seat and watch this sunrise? I promise you won’t regret it.”

The couples smiled, offered me their names, and took me up on my offer while I hurried inside to get their coffees.

“When y’all are ready, you just come on inside,” I told them and went back in to let them enjoy the view.

When they came in, I had everything laid out and explained to them rather quickly what we were all about and invited them to take part in our Monday-night get-together here at the campground.

“Everyone makes something over their campfire. You’ll come to the covered patio at the recreation center.” As I talked, I pointed out the locations on the map of the campground that was on the wall and the one that matched in their packet. “At the recreation center, you’ll grab a paper plate and walk around to each campsite to get a little nibble of what everyone has made. It’s not only a great way to taste campfire food but also to get to know your fellow campers. It might look like we are all spread out here, but we are a tight-knit community that loves to have a lot of fun.”

The four of them seemed pleased and told me how they’d actually become friends by meeting at a campground out west. They were traveling across country together, and it was going to take them up until the winter to do so.

“That’s why I love this job so much,” I gushed after Dottie had come over to hitch a ride to church and I told her all about the new guests.

“Why do you think I’ve never left?” Dottie smiled. “If it weren’t for the people here, I wouldn’t have any family left.”

It was one of those times I threw my arms around Dottie to give her a big hug.

“Now don’t be goin’ and gettin’ all sappy on me.” She peeled me off her. “You need to get your mind in the game because we are headin’ to the good Lord’s house to do us some snoopin’.”

Hank drove up and was beeping the horn of his car.

“That just didn’t sound right,” I told her and felt a bit of guilt, southern Baptist guilt, about why we were really going to church—to see Darby Greer.

“You ladies ready?” Hank popped his head into the door of the office. “Mary Elizabeth’s head will spin off her body if you come in after the call to worship, not to mention what she’ll do if you come in after the first note of the first hymn.”

Chapter 9

To be truthful, I’d only been to the church a handful of times since Lester Hager’s part in a murder. I’d come for the big occasions, which I believed most everyone went to church for. Things like Easter and Christmas to name two big ones. I didn’t mind going to church, and it was just a way of life growing up in Kentucky or just the south in general.

When I was a kid, my mama and daddy would drag me out of bed early on a Sunday. We’d get to church in time for Sunday school then off to big church. After that was what made the day feel so special. Mama would make us a big family dinner right after church, and it was so much fun.

It wasn’t until after they’d died in the house fire and I went to live with Mary Elizabeth that I realized it was not just my mama and daddy’s way of life, it was just the way of life in general. After I’d skipped town, I didn’t step foot in another church until I did come back to Normal and Betts dragged me there.

Truth be told, it was kind of a hard pill for me to swallow after what Lester Hager had done. I knew it wasn’t the church’s fault, but I guess you’d say I was kinda mad at God. First, my family had been taken from me in a horrific arson after we’d been such good stewards. Not to mention, my mama had dragged me there on Wednesday night for a spaghetti supper and that I’d just recently found out and ironically found myself right here at this very church that next day to celebrate Christmas, thanking the big man for bringing my family’s murderer to justice. All the while, in the same breath, still upset that I’d trusted God to give such a big job as preacher to someone like Lester Hager.

Even though we all fall down, for some reason I held a preacher to higher standards than my own when it came to doing right by everyone. Still, as I walked down the aisle where I could see the back of Mary Elizabeth’s perfectly combed, straight hair lying evenly across her back, I saw Lester Hager, a strawberry-blond-haired man with fair skin, his tall and slender build leaning over the pulpit, wagging that tattered black Bible above his head as he spouted out the verses.

“Heavens to Betsy.” Mary Elizabeth was as shocked as I was being there when she saw me approach the end of her pew. “What in tarnation has happened to make you come here today?”

“Scoot.” I gestured for her to slide down and let me and Hank in.

She had a huge smile on her face and couldn’t help herself. She actually stood up and turned around to the pew behind us.

“Carol, you remember my daughter, Maybelline, don’t you?”

“Of course she does.” I grinned at Carol Wise, one of the Bible thumpers with Betts. “Good morning, Carol.”

“Oh, and well, you know Ethel.” Mary Elizabeth was going to go right on down the line, even though she knew I knew them all.

“You know I know Ethel.” I didn’t have to remind her about how Ethel’s dog had gotten my sweet Fifi pregnant.

I said hello to everyone down the pew, which was Helen Pyle, Gert Hobson, and Ann Doherty, who was hugging my old Gucci bag close to her chest like I was going to snatch it if she weren’t careful.

Hank went right along behind me, giving all the ladies a good southern Baptist nod.

Mary Elizabeth sat down and clasped her hands in her lap, patting the pew next to her for me to sit.

“I’m glad to see you look much better today.” She leaned into my curls and whispered in my ear.

“I didn’t see you yesterday.” I twisted my head to look at her.

“I saw you on the television. What on earth lipstick did you have on?” Mary Elizabeth’s southern drawl held a hint of sarcasm. “I mean, I’d rather you’d not had on any.”

“What do you mean? Queenie gave us her lipstick, and I didn’t even pay attention. I saw Violet Rhinehammer coming with that camera, and you popped into my head. So if I didn’t look good, then I blame you.” I was teasing, but she didn’t take it that way.

“It’s just like all the kids in your generation to blame their mamas for everything that went wrong. And your posture.” She huffed and stared straight ahead. “What happened to ‘shoulders back, tits up’? You know good posture speaks louder than your résumé.”

“I’ll try to remember that when I find the next dead body,” I said sarcastically.

“But I hope you aren’t going to try and figure out what happened to that woman.” Mary Elizabeth wasn’t going to say anything else. She’d said her piece and that was that.

“You know I am.” I was already on a roll with her, so I might as well tell her the truth. At least we were in church, and I felt somewhat protected from her fussing. She’d never throw a fit in the Lord’s house. “I have to.”

“You have to do no such thing.” She gasped and snapped her eyes at me.

There was a silence that blanketed the congregation, and when I turned to see what they were looking at, Mayor Courtney Mackenzie was waltzing down the middle aisle like she was the preacher, giving everyone a little wave as she passed.

Immediately, I remembered what Dottie Swaggert had told me the first time I’d met the mayor a few years ago. “The mayor was so crooked you couldn’t tell from her tracks if she was coming or going” were her exact words. Even when I tried to remind myself that we were in a church, I still couldn’t get the facts out of my head that one, Dottie said she was crooked and two, she wanted Hank’s job to be eliminated.

A huge smiled curled on the edges of her perfectly lined lips.

“What is she hiding?” I leaned back to Hank and whispered.

His lips pinched, the edges dipped, and he let go of a long and sorrowful sigh that even reached my heart. It sank. I reached over and laced my fingers into Hank’s and squeezed.

I held it the entire time. Even when we stood up to sing. I tried not to look at the choir because I could feel Emmalyn Truman’s eyes focused on me as if she were trying to get my attention. It was hard enough to play nice when in the back of my head her husband just might be one of the people who wanted Hank’s job to go away. Jerry and Hank had been friends for a long time, and I didn’t respect anyone who tried to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes. Especially someone I loved.

Even if Jerry Truman didn’t have anything to do with the idea that taking Hank’s job to give to one of his deputies would free up some money, he should’ve at least gone to Hank and told him what was happening. Maybe get a plan together with him instead of all the hearsay and gossip flying around.

If I had any sense, I’d give Emmalyn and Jerry one of Mary Elizabeth’s classes in manners and friendship.

“Mmm, mmm,” Mary Elizabeth ho-hummed. “That interim preacher can preach that Bible.” She was as happy as a tick on a fat dog. “Now, you two need to come on over to the Milkery for dinner.” Mary Elizabeth shot her eyes between me and Hank. “I’ve got collard greens and mashed potatoes, and not store-bought either. Homemade.” She planted a grin on her face and waved at someone walking by before she went right back to where she’d left off. “I even made oven-baked cornbread in the corncob cast-iron mold you love so much.” Mary Elizabeth’s nose curled at the memory. “Hank, even though Maybelline was a pill, she did love to eat that old oven cornbread out of my own mama’s cast-iron mold.”

“We have to get back to the campground. We brought Dottie with us and—” I started to say before Dottie popped her head into our conversation.

“I’m starvin’. What’s the meat?” She butted right on in.

“Country ham. And it’s a fresh one from the same people the Red Barn get their country ham from.” Mary Elizabeth licked her lips at the thought.

Hearing it made my mouth water. Funny how someone can bring back memories such as food and your mouth reacts like it just ate some. Kinda like that with a lemon. Oh, the power of the mind.

My eyes shifted to the mayor across the aisle in the front pew saying hello to the interim preachers. I couldn’t help but notice the choir was walking through the door to exit the stage, and this was my time to get back there and talk to Darby Greer about having Beck come to work around the campground.

“I’ll let you three work it out. I’ve got to say hello to someone real fast.” I didn’t even let Mary Elizabeth’s jaw flying open and Hank’s scared look stop me. Nor did I let the fact that I shouldn’t be on the stage stop me either.

I took the first few steps that lead up to the pulpit two at a time and hurried across to the door where I’d seen Darby exit.

“Darby,” I called after her in a much louder voice than I probably should’ve because everyone in the red choir robes turned around. “’Scuse me, Darby.” I moved past a few of them, and when I reached her, I used my finger to peck on her shoulder and interrupt her as she was unzipping her robe and talking to another member of the choir. “Darby, can I talk to you?”

She looked at me, blinking a few times as though she were trying to place where she’d seen me. The other person looked at me with a snarl.

“Good singing by the way,” I told them. “I’ve never heard anyone do a rendition of ‘Jesus Loves Me’ like y’all.” I tugged on the sleeve of Darby’s half unzipped choir robe. “I’m a friend of Ava Cox’s. Mae West. And, well, I was there when you-know-who was—”

“Excuse me for a minute.” That got her attention, and she told her choir buddy goodbye. “We can talk in here.”

She had me follow her down the hall into one of the children’s Sunday school rooms. There were tiny little tables with four small chairs around each of them. The wooden bookshelf was tiered and had little children’s Bibles on them. On the top of the bookshelf were strings of elbow noodles dripping with paint.

Man, what a waste of some good macaroni noodles, I thought and wondered if Mary Elizabeth had also made some homemade mac and cheese. My stomach grumbled.

“I recognize you now. What can I do for you?” Darby asked.

“I’ve met your son, Beck, a few times. Ava mentioned how he does a great job at mowing and various other things around her yard. I own Happy Trails Campground outside of downtown, opposite of your side of downtown, and I would like to hire Beck to do some weed pulling and maybe some trail clearing of sticks. We are coming out of winter, which you and I both know was pretty icy this year.” My eyes grew, as did my smile, for emphasis. “And with ice comes a lot of tree limb breaks, and me along with my staff just can’t get it all and be ready for the big push of tourists coming in.”

“You were standing there when I was giving Chelsea O’Connell a piece of my mind.” I could see the light bulb turn on in her head. She lifted a finger and slowly shook it at me. “You saw that I didn’t go in there and kill that woman.”

“I… um… I’m not accusing you of killing no one.” What was happening here? Was she able to see my little ploy to get her son alone so I could pepper him with questions about his own mother’s motives to have wanted to kill Chelsea? “But you did say and I quote, ‘You will regret talking to me like that.’”

“Oh my gawd, you’re the one who told that detective that I threatened her, and because of you, I think he thinks I’m a suspect.” She glared at me. “Just because you and I are having words right now doesn’t mean I’m going to kill you. Or does it?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow.

“Mae, honey?” Hank popped his head in the door. He smiled. “There you are.” He looked at Darby. “Excuse me. Sorry if I interrupted something.”

I looked at Hank and noticed Emmalyn Truman down the hall watching us. Quickly, I shifted so it didn’t appear as if I’d seen her.

“You.” Darby uncurled her arms and jabbed that finger at Hank. “Honey? You too?”

“Sorry, Mrs. Greer, I didn’t recognize you.” Hank shot his look back to me. This time, it was the detective look he gave when he was on the case, and the one I didn’t like when he knew I was in here with her to get some information. “I see you know my girlfriend.”

“Your snitch girlfriend.” She glared at me. “The one who is so nosy she didn’t see anything but me walk away. That’s exactly what I did. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Why do you think Chelsea was killed?” I asked her and then looked at Hank since I’d yet to know it’d been confirmed.

“The autopsy came back. Chelsea O’Connell was poisoned, and it was found in the iced tea someone had given her.” Hank had all but said someone had poisoned Chelsea, and Darby knew it, too, because once the words registered in her head, her jaw dropped.

“And—” Darby’s mouth clamped shut then open again “—you are thinking I did it?”

“I’m sorry. This isn’t the time or the place to discuss this information. I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow and have you come down to the station to give a statement.” Hank, Darby, and I looked around when we heard Beck calling for her.

“Look, Mama, I made a Bible bookmark out of elbow noodles.” He held up the painted noodle thingy like I’d seen on top of the bookshelf, droplets of paint falling on the floor. “Oops.” He grinned and laughed, putting it back in the paper towel he’d taken it out of.

“I’m guessing I don’t have to remind you not to leave town, or do we need to make arrangements for that?” Hank turned into detective mode in just a split second.

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere. I’ve done nothing.” Darby took Beck by the arm. “Let’s go, son.”

“Wait.” I stopped her. “Seriously, can I hire Beck to come do some work around the campground?”

“Yes!” Beck’s eyes lit up. “That’s got to be a lot of money, and I’ve been saving up for a new lawn mower. Please, Mama?” He put his hands together in prayer position. He looked up. “Please, Lord, make my mama let me go.”

“You’re using Jesus?” Darby’s eyes grew when she looked at him. Her nostrils flared and her eyes looked up to me. They narrowed, and she gave a slight shake of her head. “Fine,” she said through her gritted teeth. “But I’m going to go and sit there while you work.”

“Great.” I could sense someone walk up behind me and Hank.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see it was Mary Elizabeth. She put a hand on the small of my back, letting me know it was time to go.

“I’ll be back at the campground around one, so we will see you then.” We had plans to go to the Milkery, the dairy farm and bed and breakfast where Mary Elizabeth was co-owner and called home.

It was always an unspoken event that when I came to church, we always headed over to the Milkery for Sunday dinner, which was what some people called lunch. Around here, we had breakfast, dinner, and supper.

“Where are y’all going now? Why can’t we go now?” Beck asked.

“You can go. We are going to my place, the Milkery.” Mary Elizabeth had no idea what was going on. She kept on yammering. “I’ll even let you milk a cow and maybe fetch a few eggs from the henhouse.”

Dottie had found us. I could smell that she must’ve hurried up and ran outside to smoke after the preacher gave his final amen.

“Mama,” Beck gushed. “Can we?”

“No, honey. I have my choir meeting, then we will go home to change then go to the campground to work.” Darby was fidgeting.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I think going to the Milkery sounds a whole heck of a lot better than sitting around here listening to a meeting.” Dottie snorted. “But that’s just me, kiddo.”

Darby huffed and puffed before she gave in.

“I’m more than happy to take him with us.” I jabbed Hank’s arm. “Hank’s driving, and he is the safest person I know.”

“You mind your p’s and q’s, mister,” Darby told her son before she ruffled his hair. “I’ll be at the campground.”

“Thanks, Mama.” Beck turned to Mary Elizabeth. “Can we milk the cow first?”

Chapter 10

“We should’ve let Mary Elizabeth take him. She’s the one who promised him all this junk,” Dottie grumbled under her breath.

I jerked around, giving her the stink eye over the front seat and happy to see Beck didn’t even hear since he was still rambling on about the cows and eggs.

“I’ve never been next to a real cow. I do have a stuffed cow my granny got me but a real live one. Do you think you can take a picture of me next to the real live cow? I can send that to my granny. She has an iPhone. Do you have an iPhone?” Beck came up for air and looked at Dottie. “You don’t look like you got an iPhone. You don’t look like—” I had no idea what he was going to say about Dottie, so I just interrupted him.

“Do you like chocolate pie?” I turned back around and looked at him.

“Mm-hmm. But my mama doesn’t let me have many sweets. She says that they make me hyper, but I’m not hyper. My granny says I’ve got all this energy because I work a lot with my Mow Monster business and keep in shape so I don’t need all the sleep.” Beck made a muscle with his arm and peeled back the sleeve of his short-sleeved shirt. “See that, Hank? I bet Hank has a big muscle. He looks like he would.”

Hank’s face didn’t move, but his eyes shifted to get a look in the back seat at Beck, who was still talking nonstop.

“Thank you, Lord Jesus.” Dottie threw her hands up in the air once we got to the Kentucky post fencing that was our clue we were about to turn into the Milkery.

It was all nicely painted and shiny. I didn’t expect any less from Mary Elizabeth.

When she bought the Milkery, it wasn’t in bad shape. It was a typical working dairy farm. But it was Mary Elizabeth along with Dawn Gentry who converted the empty farmhouse on the back end of the property into a really cool bed and breakfast.

It was shocking how many tourists came to Normal who weren’t into camping like the ones who came to my campground.

Mary Elizabeth took her southern hospitality and sprinkled that stuff everywhere. No bed was left without several throw pillows that not only matched the bedsheet, comforter, and rug, but also the curtains that hung on the walls in each room. Each room was decorated differently, and it was done at no expense.

“What on earth?” Beck’s jaw dropped, and the car was silent. I looked back at him, and he was pointing to the large silos around the Milkery that had the dairy’s name printed on each of them.

“Have you never seen a silo?” Dottie’s face contorted. Slowly, Beck’s chin moved right to left. “Where did you live before you moved here, child?”

“Lexington.” He was suddenly a one-word kid as he stared in awe at the silos as we passed a few.

The long blacktop driveway was another touch of Mary Elizabeth’s and probably the most expensive. With the black against the white Kentucky fence along each side, it felt like you were driving up to some big mansion, but as soon as we took a turn past the building on the left where the employees worked, we came to the free-range chicken coop on the other side.

It was no regular chicken-wire coop. Mary Elizabeth had gone to great lengths to create a home where the hens could lay their eggs while they lived in luxury.

They had the best feed as well as a nighttime bed story read by Mary Elizabeth as she rocked in a rocking chair in the coop. It was that large.

Mary Elizabeth claimed happy hens laid the best eggs and that’s why she couldn’t keep any in stock.

“What’s that?” Beck pointed to the steel office building.

“The Milkery office.” I looked over at Hank and smiled. I couldn’t tell what was going through his head and suddenly wondered how he felt about children. Or if he even felt anything about them.

It was typical for an early spring afternoon in the state of Kentucky where it was cool in the morning and warm in the afternoon. The buds on the oak trees that surrounded the property showed the first signs of new life and would soon sprout into the brightest green leaves. The limestone-rich soil had already given the Kentucky bluegrass a hint of blue, and it was highlighted by the baby-blue sky from the clear day.

“Don’t even tell me that’s the henhouse!” Beck jumped in his seat with delight when we passed the hens.

I tried not to notice Hank’s jaw tightening, but I did.

He looked over at me and pinched a grin as his eyebrows rose. I gave him a few soft blinks before I looked away.

“Is that that woman’s house?” Beck’s eyes couldn’t grow any bigger than they were. He was totally impressed and just at a loss for words.

“That woman is Mae’s mama and you will address her as such.” Dottie’s limit had been reached. The veins in her neck were literally popping out.

Beck gulped, and when Hank stopped the car, Beck jumped out and darted to the kitchen door where Mary Elizabeth was standing with her apron already tied around her waist.

“Hey, Mae’s mama, you’ve got a really cool place.” Beck ran inside of the bed and breakfast.

Dottie grunted and said a couple of curse words under her breath.

“What?” Hank asked her. “You’re the one who said she was Mae’s mama and he was to address her as such.”

“You know what I was talking ‘bout.” Dottie sucked in a deep breath before she let out a long sigh. “What can I do for you?” she asked Mary Elizabeth once we made it to the door.

“Nothing.” Mary Elizabeth hugged each one of us. “Enjoy yourself until you’ve got to get back for check-in.”

“I’m going to take you up on that offer.” Dottie pushed past us and headed into the kitchen, sitting at the table. “You got any coffee?”

“Hello, Dottie,” Dawn Gentry greeted Dottie. “Good to see you too. Yes. I will make you a coffee.”

“Huh.” Dottie’s brows furrowed. “What’s up her craw?”

“Maybe you should say hello,” I told her. “I need to teach you and Beck some manners,” I said and stepped over Beck’s shoes laying in the middle of the kitchen. “How are you?” I asked Dawn and went over to help her get some coffees on the table.

“Good. Your mom is doing a lot better too.” She knew I was going to ask her about Mary Elizabeth.

Over the last few months, it appeared as if Mary Elizabeth had some memory loss, but in the last week or two, she’d been on her game. It was always something I worried about since I didn’t know any of her family or her family history. Kinda like me. I didn’t know any of my family history since my parents had passed. I guessed I had some sort of cousins out there like second cousins or once-removed cousins. Neither of my parents had siblings, but I did know they had extended family. None of which ever stepped up to take me.

“I’m so glad.” I was happy to hear the good news from Dawn. “Are you growing your hair out?” I asked Dawn about the pixie haircut she normally kept nice and neat.

“I’m not entirely sure yet. While you all were visiting Perrysburg, I had a hair appointment that I needed to cancel since Mary Elizabeth was with you. Then with winter, the roads were bad and my hairdresser couldn’t make it in, so here we are with longer hair than normal.” She raked her hands through her black hair.

“Your hair might be longer, but your clothing style ain’t changed a bit.” Mary Elizabeth gave poor Dawn a once-over.

“No matter how hard you try, you’ll never get this city girl in anything different than my skinny jeans, with a black tee or white”—she waffled her hand—“depending on the day and my leather. So don’t be trying to southernify me.”

She did have a cool New York City style to her, and that leather jacket of hers was to die for.

Dawn Gentry had come to Normal and stayed in Happy Trails as an assistant to a very famous author. Needless to say, her stay became very extended, and she ended up staying and purchasing the Milkery with Mary Elizabeth.

“I’ll get a pair of pearls around that skinny neck of yours. Just you wait and see.” Mary Elizabeth had made it her purpose in life to bring up every girl to have manners and what she called southern grace.

Dawn giggled and brought the creamer over to the table along with the sugar bowl because she knew Dottie would be asking for it soon.

“Thank you.” Dottie took the spoon out of the sugar and tossed in five or seven spoonfuls in her mug.

“Can we go see the cows now?” Beck tugged on Mary Elizabeth’s apron.

“Ask Ms. Gentry if she’s gonna keep an eye on the cornbread.” Mary Elizabeth pointed to Dawn.

“Ms. Gentry?” He started to ask his question.

“Of course I’m going to keep an eye on it.” Dawn covered one of her eyes with one hand and talked like a pirate, making Beck laugh.

“What are you waiting for? The cows aren’t going to milk themselves.” Mary Elizabeth was always good with the little kids. “Grab the bucket!” She yelled before he ran out the door and past the stacked metal buckets she and Dawn used to milk.

“I reckon I better go have me some lung respiratory and oversee the cow milking.” Dottie got up, taking her coffee with her. “Lung respiratory” was her way of saying she was going to smoke.

“You two test-driving kids?” Dawn snorted and looked at me and Hank.

“What?” Hank’s face looked like she’d asked the most disgusting question. “No. He’s Mae’s little gossip buddy that we are using to see if he’s heard anything from his mom.”

“Whhh-at?” Dawn might’ve gotten a little southern accent in there after all. She was getting good at drawing out her words.

“You make it sound bad, but it’s not like that.” I walked over to check on the cornbread. The smell of the fresh corn, sugar, and butter filled the air, making my stomach growl. “That murder over in the new development was in his neighborhood, and he has a little job going around to mow for people, and he knows things.”

“Kids are good at not being seen.” Dawn frowned. “I should know. That’s how I grew up.”

“Really?” I was a little shocked. “I never knew that about you.”

Come to think of it, I didn’t really know a whole lot about Dawn’s early years, only her later years when she was in the fast-paced working world of the city.

Hank got up and headed outside, no doubt not wanting to hear me and Dawn talk about emotional things.

“Something I don’t talk about.” She dosed the collard greens with some salt before she threw in a couple tablespoons of lard. “But I do have to say that I’ve learned to make some really good southern food because Mary Elizabeth is a great teacher.”

“Don’t I know it.” I placed my hands on each side of her arms and peeked over her shoulder to look at the collard greens. “You look like you’re a pro.”

“Tell me about the murder. I didn’t realize they’d called it a homicide.” She hadn’t heard.

“Apparently, she’d been poisoned from what Colonel Holz told Hank was in the sweet tea.” My words got a gasp from her. “I know. Someone wasted some good sweet tea,” I teased.

“If Hank is questioning a little boy for clues, that doesn’t seem like a good sign,” she said and walked over to check the cornbread.

“There’s more to it than just the murder.” I quickly told her about how Hank’s job appeared to be in jeopardy and kept my eye on the screen door in case Hank walked up. I didn’t want him to know I was talking about it.

“And that boy’s mother gave the victim some sweet tea right before she died, and you saw it?” Dawn was so mesmerized that she’d stood there with a stick of butter and swiped the tops of the cornbread so many times that the stick was all melted.

“I’m not sure if she had any other sweet tea, but everyone saw it.” I took a fork and began to scoop the cooked cornbread out of the corncob cast-iron mold, plating it exactly how Mary Elizabeth liked it presented.

“Everyone?” Dawn asked.

“All the girls minus you and Mary Elizabeth had gone over to Ava’s so I could use her stream as some research for the National Park Committee.” I proceeded to tell her all about how I also thought Gab Hemmer, Jerry Truman, and Courtney Mackenzie all had very different motives but enough to be suspected.

“So you’re saying that Jerry Truman and Courtney Mackenzie possibly had motive so Jerry’s deputies could get the case solved faster and therefore have reason to do away with Hank’s job?” she asked and put the rest of the food on the table.

“Something like that.” I didn’t have time to tell her a lot of it had to do with it being an election year before Beck came running in with a half-filled metal bucket of fresh cow’s milk.

“Look what I did!” Beck held the bucket up and had me look inside.

“Cool, huh?” I asked and ignored Hank when he walked in because I wasn’t so sure how I felt about his reaction to the entire child comment.

“Did you know Rod Blair hired the little boy to mow the grass on the lots?” Hank asked when Beck left to go wash up after Mary Elizabeth scolded him for sitting at the table with dirty cow-tit hands.

He stomped all the way to the bathroom yelling, “I’ve got dirty cow-tit hands.”

“No. I had no idea. But I am going to go to Slade to visit their headquarters because Chelsea was the salesperson of the year, and it came with a ten-thousand-dollar bonus, which makes me think she could’ve been on someone’s list to knock down the ladder. I’ll check into it.” I wasn’t going to hold anything back from Hank when I normally would because he didn’t ever like me sticking my nose into anything that had to deal with one of his homicide cases.

“You just seem to be running with it, aren’t you?” He scooped up a big helping of greens.

“When it comes to you and your job, you better believe I’m going to help you out.” My tone stated a nonnegotiable.

“As long as you don’t put yourself in danger.” He looked at me from across the table and smiled. His green eyes melted my heart.

All of a sudden, his face blurred and I imagined a little boy with his green eyes and my curly hair.

“Mae?” I jerked when he called my name. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Of course.” I put on that “I’m fine” smile and enjoyed the food and company.

Only it was Beck talking the entire meal and out the door, not to mention the entire way back to the campground.

“I don’t know how you ate anything with your mouth runnin’ a mile a minute.” Dottie continued to send little jabs his way until we stopped the car in front of her camper to let her out. “Come on, Beck. You go to the office with me.”

“I’ll get Fifi and be down,” I told them. “So we couldn’t consider that a test-drive?” I asked Hank when he pulled off.

“What? Kids?” He threw his head back and laughed. “Could you imagine us having kids?”

I gulped. Yeah. I could.

Chapter 11

I’d never figured myself to ever want or even think about having a family. Like one with kids, and I had told Mary Elizabeth that several times when I was growing up.

I could see her now, standing in the kitchen, with a plate of brownies in her hand, offering me one as she told me, “Just wait, Maybelline. You’re going to find your Prince Charming one day, and that’ll make you change your mind about having babies.”

I hated to even think that she was right and I was beginning to feel that way, but was Hank my Prince Charming or just a knight on the way to finding my prince? Obviously, I wasn’t about to have children with Paul West. He was just too old, and it honestly never crossed my mind. We were always jetting off somewhere fabulous. Little did I realize it was everyone else’s money he was using to do that, but in this case, I never felt the lifestyle we lived suited to having a family. If I was really being truthful and honest, which was hard for me to do with myself sometimes, it was the fact he was much older than me. The thought of him not being around to see them grow into full adults didn’t sound like something I wanted to sign up for.

Then there was the image factor. Most of the couples Paul and I had hung around with were his age or his colleagues and their wives who had grown children with children of their own. The wives took good care of themselves but at the expense of going under a knife with the various plastic surgeries, and I was too much of a chicken to do that, so I just never figured on kids.

Even with Hank. Not to put the cart before the horse, but I never considered having children until it crossed my mind today with Beck. I wasn’t saying Beck was the ideal child either. There was just some sort of innate switch that he had seemed to flip on with Hank around, and that was new territory to me I was going to just damper down.

Clearly, Hank didn’t want children, and was I ready to give up a great guy for something I wasn’t even sure of?

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Dottie was sitting in one of the chairs outside of the office. She’d already taken off her go-to Sunday-meeting clothes, which was what we called our outfit for church, and put on a pair khaki culottes along with her green Happy Trails Campground Sweatshirt and flip-flops.

Henry Bryan was sitting next to her with his clipboard with the checklist of items that had to be done each Sunday before new guests arrived.

“I was just going through the checklist.” I tapped my temple. “You know me. Always got something running in there.”

“Here you go.” Henry’s toothless grin curled up under his big nose into a wide smile. Pieces of his scraggly hair peeked out from underneath his knit cap. “I got it all completed.”

“Look at you.” I took the clipboard and really didn’t go down it like I usually did every Sunday. I wasn’t into it, and he’d never let me down over the past few years. He knew the campground much better than me anyways.

He’d been the handyman well before I got here, and he was very knowledgeable about pretty much everything. A real jack-of-all-trades.

“I heard something about you hiring somebody to come help me, and I don’t need no help.” His smile faltered.

“Oh.” I lifted my chin. “Where is he?” I asked, almost forgetting about Beck being here.

“I gave him a roll of quarters and told him to go get lost in the arcade.” Dottie tapped a cigarette out of the case and lit it.

“Dottie, that’s terrible. We can find him something to do.” I looked back toward the recreation room and noticed Fifi had finally made it around the lake. “I’ll take Fifi to go meet him. What time is it?”

Henry pulled out his pocket watch. “Pertnear time.” He gave a hard nod telling me it was almost three, which was the real check-in time.

“Then I’ll be right back.” I knew I could leave and Dottie could handle anyone who drove up.

The sun was high in the bright, blue sky and it was a perfect afternoon to take a hike that could lead into some really good campfire-sitting tonight. From what I’d heard on the weather report on the radio, the temperature was going to get up into the midsixties today with a nighttime low in the fifties. Perfect weather.

“Hey, Beck.” I opened the door of the recreation center. Fifi darted in ahead of me, and she sniffed the little boy out really fast. “I was wondering if we could do a little hike down to the brook and start to pick up some of the sticks off the trail. I think the weather is going to be perfect this week for the guests to really take advantage of the trails.”

“No problem.” He was sitting in the race car video game and shifted gears, moving side to side with the car on the video screen. “I’ll just crash. I’ve got a whole stack of quarters from that lady who smokes like a freight train.”

I choked back a laugh.

“I bet you hear all sorts of stuff like that since you work around your neighborhood.” I wasn’t sure just how to manipulate this kid into telling me what all he’d heard and seen, but I was willing to try just about anything. “Like when you told me at your house how Chelsea O’Connell boiled your blood.”

“Yeah!” He yelled out as the car on the screen hit the racetrack wall and burst into flames. “That was awesome.” He let go of the wheel attached to the video game and looked at me with a huge grin.

“I’m glad you liked it. You can do it again after we finish walking Red Fox Trail.” I knew getting out in nature and walking would be something he liked since he’d been outside all the times I’d seen him.

“Sure.” He got up and casually shrugged. “About that lady. She’s really been giving the neighborhood women’s club the runaround.”

“Is that right?” I asked and patted my leg for Fifi to follow us out of the center, holding the door for both her and Beck. “What did she do?”

“My mama is the president of the club, and they come to our house each month. My daddy said that I’m too involved when he comes to get me and that my mama has too much time on her hands. Did you know that when women have too much time on their hands, they like to butt into other people’s business?”

“Your daddy is Cabot Greer, right?” I’d heard Ava talk about the couple before but never really knew what he did for a living.

“Yep. Best car salesman this side of the Mississippi.” Beck was like a regular old tape recorder. I just had to push the button and off he rolled. “Which is what got him mad about the whole Chelsea O’Connell thing. She boils my daddy’s blood too.” Beck pointed. “What’s that?”

“That is a tiki hut. I like to have parties here for the guests. I keep all sorts of fun food in there when the party is going on, plus it’s filled with food during the hot summer months. In the cold months, I keep it in the room where we just were.” The tiki hut was so cute and added to the feel of the campground.

I liked to offer coffee from the local coffee shop, Trails Coffee, and donuts from the Cookie Crumble in the morning to my guests. In the summer, I loved to put them in the tiki hut, but in the winter, I put them in the hospitality room located in the recreation center. Just as I liked to use local products in the guests’s baskets, I also liked to showcase local foods and restaurants.

I led the way to the mouth of the trail, which was just a little behind the tiki hut along the treeline.

“Now stay on the path. Don’t veer off,” I told him. “If you go straight down, you’ll end up at the stream where there’s a stack of whitewater rafts, kayaks, canoes, and boards for my guests to use while they are here.”

There used to be a guy who ran an adventure company at the stream I was telling Beck about, and in another story for another time, I’d gotten to be the owner of the company. I took it to a whole new notch with all the outdoor adventure fun on a nice running stream and a few whitewater rapids thrown in.

“If you come straight back up, then you’ll get right here. There are also lights along the path that you can follow back. If you don’t see a light, then you are on the wrong path.” My brows furrowed. “Do you have a cell phone?”

“I do.” He pulled it out of his pocket. “It’s for my clients to text me.”

“I guess you need my number because I’m a client,” I told him. “Let me put in my number, and I also want to make sure your GPS is on in case you get lost.”

“Get lost?” He handed me his number. “Maybe I’ll just stick with you and help you pick up sticks.”

“Sounds good.” I still put in my cell number and quickly toggled over to his cell phone settings to make sure his GPS was on. You never can be too careful in the woods.

“What was it you were saying about your dad? Is he the one who said Chelsea boils his blood?” I asked, thinking it was his mama who had said that.

“Yeah. When she came to the neighborhood with the boss man.” Beck laughed. “My daddy calls him boss man.”

“Is that right?” He had to have been talking about Rod Blair.

“Yeah. He said to my daddy that his crew was going to need some work trucks and have my daddy work him up some numbers.” Beck and I picked up sticks along the trail.

I was surprised to see the trail was pretty well maintained and not too much debris over the winter had made its way along the path.

“I bet that took him a while.” I wanted to make sure I kept him talking.

“Long? Forever.” He sighed. I tried not to let him see me smile because I could see how he was acting just like a grown-up. “He was working himself to death.”

Now I could hear Darby saying these words. I listened while Beck meshed his parents’s words together to form his own as he told me what happened.

“He worked sun up to sun down. Even thought with the amount of commission he was going to make he would send me to that private school they’ve been dying to send me to.” Beck looked at me with big eyes. “I want to go to a different school. I don’t really fit in with my classmates.”

“That’s okay. I understand. I didn’t fit into my school when I was growing up either.” It was like I was thrown right back into school when I was known as the fire starter, the girl with the dead family. “Kids can be cruel. My parents died in our house fire. Kids called me the fire starter.”

“You killed your parents?” Beck gasped.

“No.” I laughed and left out the part where they’d been murdered. “It was a house fire, and I got out, but I had to go into foster care.”

“So your mama isn’t your mama?” The poor kid was confused.

“She wasn’t my mama who birthed me, but she took over as my mama after my birth mama died in the fire. She took me in, gave me a warm bed, nice clothes, and food, and loved me.” A lump formed in my throat. “In any case, I didn’t like going to school.”

I also left out the fact that I didn’t really graduate from high school and years later ended up getting my GED after faking Bobby Ray’s diploma for my own to even get the flight attendant job when I moved from Kentucky.

“Well, my parents are my real ones.” He eyeballed me for a second then went back to picking up sticks as we made our way down the trail. “My daddy wanted me to go to a special school that cost extra money, and he told my mom that with the money he was going to get from the builder with all those trucks that I could go there for a long time.”

“When do you start?” I asked. When he didn’t say anything, I made myself clearer. “The new school?”

“Boss man lied. He even had my daddy go to a fancy judge and tell them that on behalf of the neighborhood society, they agreed with the development. It was a mess. Made my daddy really mad. So mad that he stormed out of the house after he told my mama he was going to go find that Chelsea.” Beck stopped and looked out into the open air like he was thinking. “That’s when my daddy said ‘boiled his blood’ because she kept coming over and telling them how the deal was almost done and they’d be in the dealership to pick out them trucks. Only they never showed up. My daddy even spent longer working days there watching out the window of his dealership. Mama said that he’d say that boss man was coming any minute, any day now.”

I stood there in awe, listening to Beck tell the story, and just couldn’t believe it. How doublehanded Rod Blair was and how he’d made this promise only to be a big fat liar.

“Mama cried and cried. Daddy told Mama to kill her with kindness and give Chelsea some of his special sweet tea. And that’s what happened yesterday.” Beck kept talking, but I’d tuned out.

Special sweet tea? Did that mean poison was the special part?

Now I questioned if Cabot Greer wasn’t the killer and Darby was the accomplice.

Chapter 12

Picking up sticks took a lot longer than the conversation to get any information out of young Beck Greer. There was one thing for sure that I had discovered: parents shouldn’t talk openly in front of young ears.

I couldn’t wait to get back to let Hank know about Cabot Greer and the financial situation Blair Builders had him on the line for—which made a perfect motive to have killed Chelsea and made me wonder about the conversation I’d seen Rod Blair and Chelsea have when I saw them at the national park offices.

“When did the sheriff come by?” I asked Dottie after Beck and I had made it back to the office where Darby was waiting for us. “I was going to go tell Hank something, but I saw the car in front of his camper.”

“I have no idea. I was with Henry trying to get one of the C-Class guests backed into lot 15. They sure don’t know how to back that thing up.” Dottie snorted. “But I noticed the sheriff was there when we drove past in the golf cart.” She held up a piece of paper. “When I got back up here, there was a voicemail for you from Emmalyn Truman.”

“Really?” I took the piece of paper from her and looked at it. “Wonder what she wants.”

“Either why you snubbed her at church or why her husband is getting rid of Hank.” Dottie glanced out the window when we heard someone drive up. “I’ll go get them checked in while you call her back.”

“Do I have to?” I groaned and picked up the landline on my desk. Slowly I dialed her number and sat down. “Emmalyn, it’s Mae. I got a note here that you called.”

“I wanted to see if you were free for supper. I’d love to take you to the Red Barn for their Sunday buffet.” Emmalyn was a nice woman, and I couldn’t hold her husband’s actions against her. Though I did.

Loyalty was a curse and a blessing when it came to me. In this case, it was almost a curse because I liked Emmalyn and Jerry a lot. Like I said, Emmalyn couldn’t help her husband’s actions, but she certainly could have somewhat of an influence or say. Especially since Jerry and Hank were friends.

Or so I’d thought, and so did Hank.

“Of course, I’d love to meet you for supper.” I looked up at the clock on the wall and calculated just how much time I had to not only meet her for supper, but to fit in a visit to Agnes Swift. “What about six thirty?”

Six thirty was a good time because it gave me an hour to help out with the paperwork that was going to need to be filed from all of the new campground guests, drive to see Agnes for about forty-five minutes, and then head to the Red Barn where I wanted to hear what Emmalyn had to say for herself.

After that, I was sure Jerry Truman would be gone and then I could tell Hank not only what Beck had told me about his dad, but use whatever information Agnes had to see if that shed any light on the situation. I wasn’t sure if I’d tell him about supper with Emmalyn because Hank probably wouldn’t like the fact that the girlfriend and the wife got together to discuss anything having to do with him.

Hank was one that believed in going straight to the source, and I wondered if he’d initiated the visit from Jerry.

“Sounds great. It’s my treat, and I’ll see you then.” Emmalyn hung up, and quickly after, Beck came into the office with his mom.

“Beck said he loved picking up the sticks.” There was a grateful look on Darby’s face. She looked at Beck. “Why don’t you go play one more round of that video game before we leave. I want to talk to Ms. West alone.”

Beck didn’t have to hear his mom’s request another time. He bolted out the door, making us both laugh.

“He’s a good kid.” I smiled at Darby. “But I have to come clean.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. I have nothing to hide, so that’s why I let him come here to flap his jaw.” She pointed to the chair. “May I?”

“Of course. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you to sit down. Can I get you a coffee or water?” There wasn’t any coffee in the coffeepot, but I would’ve made some fresh, though I didn’t really want to give her too much of a warm welcome because I needed to hit the road if I was going to keep to my timeline.

“No. I’m good. I’m not staying long. Just here to clear some things up.” She folded her hands in her lap and, with a stern face, looked me square in the eyes. “Beck is a child. He hears what he hears, and sometimes things get a little out of sorts. I probably shouldn’t talk in front of him—or we, meaning Cabot and I, shouldn’t—but I assure you that neither Cabot nor I did anything to jeopardize losing our child and that includes murder.” She sighed, cocked her head to the left and eased back a little more in the chair. “I asked Beck what you asked him while we were outside, and he told me about how his dad’s deal with Blair Builders didn’t happen in so many words. If you watch all those television crime shows, it would appear that my husband and I would have some motive to have killed someone since we were counting on the money, but it isn’t worth losing my son over.”

Without saying it in so many words, she was trying to express that going to jail wasn’t worth not being a mom to Beck.

“When you and your friends saw me over at Chelsea’s, it was because I was trying to get her to quit that job. Rod Blair had her do all of his dirty work when they first looked at the property for sale. She came around to all the neighbors and built up this awesome community and became part of our neighborhood association. She even came to a couple of our meetings and told us everything we wanted to hear and more. They were only supposed to build a few houses so as to not disturb the environment, but Rod Blair got greedy and started to build those smaller homes that could fit two on one of the lots, creating all sorts of havoc. When we went to talk to Chelsea about it, she would mock us and wouldn’t give us the time of day. Regardless of the fact they didn’t come through with the car deals, but to put everyone in our neighborhood in jeopardy is what I have a beef with. So no matter if she’s dead or not, the project is still moving forward.” She eased up on the edge of her chair. “If there’s one person you need to check out, it’s Rod Blair and that judge who signed off on the paperwork before it was brought to a vote because our neighborhood association was planning on going to the planning and zoning meeting for the Blair development. We found out after the fact because they conveniently didn’t have it listed as a public meeting in the Gazette.”

It became clear to me that this was much bigger than Hank’s job on the line, and I felt like Hank’s job situation had nothing to do with this murder. It just so happened to coincide with Chelsea’s death, and all eyes were on Hank to see how fast and efficient he was at solving it. And Darby didn’t know I was on the board.

“I’m also not dumb. I read the paper. I shop downtown Normal and know you and your friends snoop around, so when you asked for Beck to come here, I knew you’d be questioning him, which was only good for me since you and Detective Sharp are an item. The more the heat is taken off of me, the quicker Detective Sharp can find the real killer.” Darby Greer was a smart woman, and she’d played her cards to win. “I’m sure Violet Rhinehammer would love to get an exclusive interview from me.”

This was a win for her.

“Then I think we can settle up.” I pulled out the desk drawer and took a fifty-dollar bill out of the petty cash for Beck. “This is not only for Beck’s wonderful job of helping clear the path, but for your gas having to come all the way out here.”

She plucked the money out of my fingers and tucked it in the pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll take this as a little hush money. Because I know you don’t want what I have to say about this little investigation of yours to hit the papers.” Darby Greer stood up, tugged down the edges of her shirt, and raked her hands through her hair as if she were making herself presentable before she turned and walked out of the office.

In the distance, there was a plume of dust from Darby Greer’s car tires, or at least I thought they were her car tires until some of the dust cleared and a Channel 2 television van was barreling up the campground drive.

Chapter 13

“So much for hush money,” I muttered to myself and crossed my arms over my chest.

The office door creaked open. I didn’t turn around, just kept my eyes focused on the dark outline of the person in the passenger seat of the van, who I knew was Violet Rhinehammer.

“What’s she doing here?” Dottie asked and fluffed up her short red hair and then used her fingers to clean the corners of her lips as if she wanted to be presentable. “Thank God we went to church this morning and I’m already dolled up.”

The van came to a halt, and Violet Rhinehammer popped out with that huge, sparkly, and white-toothed grin on her face.

“Hey there, ladies.” Violet’s tone dripped with so much sweetness that it almost made my blood sugar drop. “I’m guessing y’all know the autopsy for Chelsea O’Connell has come back as a homicide. Dead from Jimsonweed leaves.” She had told me something I’d not heard. “Or maybe you didn’t hear.”

Violet was so good at reading people, but when Dottie looked at me with wide eyes and then elbowed my ribs, it didn’t take Violet too much insight to know we’d yet to hear.

“Mm-hmm.” Violet blinked a few times and looked down the campground toward Hank’s camper. “I see the sheriff is here.”

The driver-turned-cameraman had emerged with his big camera equipment on his shoulder.

“What in tarnation do you have on your eyes?” Dottie took a few steps forward and got all up in Violet’s face.

“I got me some new eyelashes.” Violet blinked several times. “My other ones needed to be replaced. I got thicker ones this time.”

“You’re going to create a windstorm with those things if you don’t stop blinking.” Dottie took a few steps back and stood next to me.

“I’m going to go live, so you two little ladies smile.” Violet took the microphone from the cameraman and twisted around to face him. She pulled her long hair around the side to lay nicely around one shoulder.

“Wait.” I heard the word come from my mouth before I could stop it.

Violet held up a finger to the cameraman. He took the camera off his shoulder and set it on the ground.

“Give us a sec,” she told him and handed the microphone back to him. “You are ready to talk?”

This was the fine line I was always trying not to cross with her. I was never sure when she was bluffing and when she really did have some information that I could use. Today, she mentioned the name of the poison, which told me she’d seen the report. I knew I was going to have to get firsthand information from her now, instead of waiting to get the information from Agnes. Even though I didn’t have to sell my soul to the devil with Agnes.

“Did you want something?” Violet reminded me of a snake as she slithered up to me.

“Nah,” Dottie snarled.

“Dottie.” I turned to her and smiled, letting her know I had something up my sleeve. “Violet and I are going to go take Fifi for a walk.”

I reached behind me and opened the office door, whistling for Fifi to come. She danced her way across the tile in the office with her little tail happily wagging then bounced out of the office door and over to Violet.

“She is so cute.” Violet bent down and ran her long fingernails along Fifi’s spine, and Fifi wiggled in delight. “Oh, she loves this.” Violet looked up at me and then slid her gaze to my hands. “You should really think about going down to Cut-i-cles and getting some nails.”

“I would if I didn’t have to pick up sticks around here and go on hidden paths around the national park to find new trails so you’d have a job.” It was a snarky thing to say, but I was a bit jealous of Violet and her well-put-together self.

It made me think back to the life of luxury I had led, but Violet didn’t have the one thing I did, and she craved it more than I wanted long lashes and nails.

Friendships.

“So, this is how this is going to go down?” she asked as we walked along the road around the lake.

“Actually, I was going to call you tomorrow,” I lied, but she didn’t need to know that. “I had kept an editorial you wrote back in the fall about the citizens of Normal complaining about the lines at the courthouse for the various government branches, and it seemed to have gone nowhere.”

“Why, Mae West, you never cease to amaze me.” She clasped her hands behind her back and continued to look forward. Our slow pace seemed to delight her because she had a huge smile. “I never figured you for the reading type, much less interested in what I have to say in my little editorial in the Gazette.”

“It’s good, quality paper for starting campfires.” I knew that would give her a snort.

She laughed.

“What are you getting at?” She stopped shy of Hank’s camper. “What’s going on here?”

“One question at a time.” I gestured for us to keep walking. “First off, I don’t know why Jerry is here. I guess I’ll find out in a couple of hours when I meet Emmalyn for supper.”

“Interesting” was all she said.

“I had no idea she was poisoned from Jimsonweed.” The plant grew all over the Daniel Boone National Forest, and if what Violet was saying was true, then anyone could’ve poisoned her.

“It was found in her stomach along with the unsweetened tea.”

I put my hand on her when she said that.

“What?”

“Did you say unsweetened?” I asked.

“Yes. I’ve got an insider who sent me the autopsy report, and it says unsweet tea.” She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket.

We stopped just after we passed Hank’s camper and stood on the banks of the lake right in front of Bobby Ray’s bungalow. I noticed Abby Fawn’s car was parked on the concrete pad and Bobby Ray’s truck was tightly parked behind it. I made a mental note that it appeared Abby had stayed there overnight, reminding me that I needed to talk to him about their relationship. I was worried Abby was going to get her heart broken by him since he’s never truly settled into a long relationship. It was generally at this point in a relationship, when the girlfriend honestly thought she was going to get a ring from him, that he bailed.

I didn’t want Abby to get hurt.

“I guess those two are getting chummier.” Violet also looked over at Bobby Ray’s bungalow.

“Is my face that obvious?” I really did think I had a good poker face when it came to my feelings.

“Yes.” Violet scrolled through her phone. “Rightfully so. You have two people that you love involved with each other that could possibly go south, forcing you to choose one over the other. The foster brother who helped you escape from your past, only to bring you right back here, or the best friend who helped you create the life you have now.” She tsked. “Choices, choices.”

“Goodness, you make it sound like a title to one of your Gazette editorials.” A nervous laugh escaped me as I thought about how right she was, and that I didn’t want to admit it.

“Oh.” She had a delighted look on her face. “I need to remember that if I’m ever at a loss of what to put in the editorial. Seriously.” She handed me her phone. “You can read for yourself. Unsweet tea.”

“Then it means the Greers were telling the truth.” I said it out loud when I only meant it for my thoughts.

“You mean Darby and—” she hesitated and took the phone, quickly hitting more buttons “—Cabot. Son Beck.”

“You sure have done some research.” I knew it wasn’t too hard, but I needed to know what she knew.

“I have all the neighborhood information including that your good friend Ava Cox has been retained for services by Rod Blair. Who just so happens to be on my list of people to see.” She shoved her phone back in her pocket. “So what is it that you wanted to discuss about the editorial I wrote about the lines at the courthouse? Do you think it has anything to do with the development?”

Fifi took a running leap into the lake, making a huge splash and scaring off the ducks.

Violet laughed.

“She thinks she’s a duck sometimes.” I started to walk, and Violet followed. I waved to a few of the new guests who were already setting up their fire rings for nightfall, which wasn’t too far off.

Though the nights got longer during the spring and summer, it’d yet to reach its peak, still making the darkness come around seven thirty.

“You know, we are better together, and my offer still stands as it always has in the past.” Violet was extending the olive branch like she’d done so many times before when we were in this situation, only Hank wasn’t the dangling part during those times that I was worried about.

“I’m throwing a curveball here, but Hank’s job is on the line. The mayor needs to cut funds from somewhere in the budget in order to expand the courthouse so they can hire more county clerk deputies and circuit clerk deputies.” The county and circuit clerks had employees under them that were called deputies, and it was the lack of employees that was under scrutiny, as that was what made the lines long.

“So you’re saying she needs to move the sheriff’s department out of the courthouse in order to make room.” Violet turned her head toward the sun and lowered those fancy fake lashes. I could see the wheels turning in her head. “Which she had Judge Executive Gab Hemmer push through the development during the closed hearing.”

“I had no idea there even was a hearing, and I’m on the committee.” It was a strange thing to be telling Violet in fear she’d quote me, but I would do anything to figure out if this murder was related to Hank’s job.

“Does the sheriff think so?” She looked over her shoulder at the sheriff’s car still parked in front of Hank’s camper.

“I don’t know what he knows. I just know that Emmalyn called me to have supper with her, and I intend on finding out exactly what Jerry does know.” I referred to Sheriff Jerry Truman by name. “Or if he knows.”

“He has to know the mayor wants them out.” Violet took her phone back out and started to type.

“What are you doing?” I asked, a little worried about who or what she was telling something to.

“I’m making notes. At first I thought Chelsea’s murder had to do with the affair she was having with Al Hemmer, but now I’m wondering if it does have to do with something Al might’ve told her, and she knew too much.” She shook her head. “I tell you what, no matter what, I’d never get into politics. It’ll kill you. Literally.”

“Chelsea O’Connell was having an affair with Al Hemmer, the sheriff’s deputy? As in Geb Hemmer’s nephew?” The images of Al driving past the model home popped into my head.

I kept that fact to myself.

“Apparently that’s why the husband has filed divorce papers. I tried to talk to them, but he wouldn’t see me.” She stopped talking and reached out to touch my arm. “I bet he’d talk to you since you’re the one who found his wife.”

“Maybe.” I hadn’t planned on going to visit the husband, but I guessed I could. I was already going to be off tomorrow to help Betts clean for the Hemmers, which was more important than ever now. I could easily drive over to the O’Connells’s. “But why did you not do a follow-up piece on the editorial?”

“You know, the mayor is the one who came to see me after I wrote the editorial. And in no uncertain terms told me that if I continued to report on such things, the funding for the Gazette just might stop.” Her words weren’t what sent chills all over my body. It was her eyes with that burning, faraway look in them that told me she was going to get to the bottom of this murder with or without my help.

Chapter 14

“She thinks the killer might have something to do with the government too.” I stood in front of the big whiteboard in the office with the sleuthing notebook in my hand.

“I reckon she’s just out for a good story.” Dottie had her doubts about everyone. I had given her the Gazette with the editorial written by Violet for her to read and form her own decisions. “I guess that’s her job though. What did she say about it?”

“She said the mayor stopped the editorial and that’s why we’ve never heard any more about it.” I took the information from the notebook and started to make a diagram on the whiteboard that normally had the campground events for the week for the guests to come in and check out in case they lost the brochure we’d given them at check-in.

Most weeks the events didn’t change. We had the gathering around the campfires for supper, a little cocktail hour one night, a shop-local event where locals set up their wares once a week, and so forth. It was when we hosted the various annual festivals that we had all the extra things.

Not this week. It was typical nice weather for enjoying your hiking and camping experience around here, which was much welcome because I had a murder to help Hank solve.

“Unsweet tea? Am I readin’ that right?” Dottie squinted at the board after I’d written down about the Jimsonweed that was found to be the poison of choice. “Jimsonweed? That grows around here as much as the bluegrass.”

“Yeah. I know, but who is using it for more than the intended purposes?” I walked over to Dottie’s computer and typed in Jimsonweed. “Read off what you can find about it.”

“According to Dr. Internet,” she teased, “Jimsonweed can be used for various ailments like the flu, asthma, cough, and nerve diseases.” Dottie rattled off the list, and I wrote them down. “You reckon she might’ve accidentally overdosed?”

“Did she have any of those sicknesses? She sure didn’t look like she had anything wrong with her.” I shrugged. “Keep going.”

“My goodness gracious.” Dottie gasped and leaned in a little more to the monitor to read. “Children are using it to get high.” She tapped the screen. “Says it right here.”

“What?” I should probably be shocked, but since I’d been dating Hank, my eyes had been opened to just how many weeds, mushrooms, and various plants in the forest people did harvest for such things.

Still, I was shocked.

“Listen, I’m telling you that this here investigation has more tits on it than a nursing mama dog.” Dottie must’ve seen the look on my face because I had no idea what on earth she was trying to tell me. “It means that everyone you’ve got written up there has something to do with this development. And the guilty dog barks the loudest.”

“First, you’re talking about a nursing dog and now a guilty dog. Which is it?” I didn’t follow her at all.

“Follow the lead with the suspect who is squawking most. Loose lips.” She winked just as Hank walked in the office door.

“Hey.” I snapped the lid back on the marker. “What was up with Jerry?”

“Jerry? Oh, it was Al Hemmer.”

“Oh! Al Hemmer.” I turned around to the board and put the top of the marker in between my teeth, pulling it off before I wrote Al’s name as a suspect.

“I see you’re making your usual diagram, but why do you think Al did it? According to him, he stopped by because he needs the information I’d gathered since we are working on the case together.” Hank did air quotes.

“Did you hear this specifically from Jerry Truman?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Hank asked for clarification.

“Exactly what I asked. Did Jerry Truman himself tell you that he wanted Al Hemmer to work on the case?” When he hesitated, I continued. “Because Al Hemmer is a suspect. He and Chelsea O’Connell were having an affair. That’s why her husband filed for divorce, which by the way, their custody hearing was tomorrow. Now I’m sure he doesn’t have to worry about that since she’s dead.”

“That means this entire case could be about an affair.” Dottie understood exactly what I was saying. She pushed her chair back from her desk. She jabbed Al’s name on the board. With an excited tone, she cried out, “We saw Al drive past when Chelsea and Darby Greer were having their little discussion.”

She stopped. Her eyes darted around, and she grabbed the receiver of the landline phone and started to dial.

“Who are you calling?” I asked.

Hank had tried to say a few things a couple of times, but we ignored him.

“Hey, Ty. It’s Dottie at the campground,” she introduced herself as though Ty Randal didn’t know who she was. “I was going to get some tea sent over to the sheriff’s department for the hard work they are doing on the investigation of Chelsea O’Connell, and I recalled there’s one deputy that likes unsweet tea, though I think it’s a sin to even think about unsweetenin’ the stuff.”

There was a silence in the air as Hank and I watched her listen to Ty. Faintly, I could hear him on the other end.

“Al Hemmer.” Dottie looked up at me. “That’s right. Yeah. We’d like to send over some sweet tea and some unsweet tea to the department. Send the bill to Mae.”

She hung up the phone.

“Why on earth would Al want her dead?” Hank walked over to the board and took the marker from me. “We’ve got the husband. He would’ve known his wife liked unsweet tea. Then we have the boyfriend.” Hank circled Al’s name a few times.

There was a little bit of giddiness in me that Hank was actually going through his process in front of me. Other times, he’d kept me an arm’s length away, leaving little nibbles of information here and there, but this time I could see how he was working the case.

“I’m not so sure you need to focus your attention on Rod Blair as much as we need to focus on Gab Hemmer, the husband, and Al.” When Hank said their names, he touched the tip of the marker to their name. “The husband definitely has a motive, and he seemed pretty upset when I went over to let him know about his wife.”

“Did you take anyone with you, like Agnes?” I asked since I knew she went on those difficult ride-alongs because she was good at comforting people.

“She didn’t go. And I asked Al to go, but he said he felt it was best he stay at the crime scene since I was going to see the family. Didn’t flinch a bit when he saw Chelsea dead either.”

“And he drinks unsweet tea. We didn’t see him drive back by before we headed into Ava’s house.” Dottie sat back down and stared into the air, tapping her fingernail on the top of the desk. “I reckon he’d had enough time between us eatin’ Ava’s snack and me going outside for a smoke on her porch that he could’ve stopped in to see Chelsea and handed her an unsweet tea to drink or possibly took the cup back with him so the only evidence was the sweet tea cup from Darby.”

Hank wagged a finger at Dottie and nodded his head like he was following her and in agreement with everything she was saying.

“Do you mind if I move my investigation here?” Hank asked me and Dottie.

“Sure.” Dottie’s face lit up in amusement. “You can even have a key.” Dottie opened her drawer and took out a single key on a metal camper key chain, dangling it in the air.

Chapter 15

I didn’t question Hank’s decision to involve me and Dottie in the investigation. I wasn’t too shocked about me since in the past he had included me in a few of the homicide cases he was working on, but to actually talk as openly as he did in front of Dottie and take her up on her offer to use the campground office as a work space for him really did tell me something.

He was worried.

I thought about it all the way over to the Red Barn Restaurant. It was one of those times where after I’d parked my car and walked through the old barn that’d been restored as the nicest restaurant in Normal that I realized I didn’t even recall driving there.

I hated when that happened. It meant I wasn’t living in the present, and that was one thing I wanted to do better at. I hadn’t succeeded thus far.

“How many?” The hostess asked as I pulled up on my tiptoes to look around at the tables.

Emmalyn was already there and waving me over.

“My friend is already here.” My heart dropped when I said the word friend, questioning if she really was being a friend or if I’d been betrayed, yet again.

The hostess looked back and smiled, gesturing me to go ahead.

From the stage in the back of the converted barn was a familiar band, Blue Ethel and the Adolescent Farm Boys. Ethel was attempting to sing a love song that didn’t really go well with their bluegrass and twangy sound, but she was giving it a good try.

I weaved in and out of the tables, making sure I didn’t step on any of the edges of the white tablecloths since they covered the entire table and fell all the way to the ground.

There were a few familiar faces that I waved and smiled at as I walked by. The old barn’s wooden beams had twinkling lights strung all around them, which created so much light that the regular lights really didn’t have to be turned on, but they were dimmed to create a romantic atmosphere.

“I’m so glad you showed up.” Emmalyn stood up from the two-person table that was clearly meant for a romantic couple. The candle glowed in the middle along with a long-stemmed rose in a single vase.

“I told you I’d be here, and I am a woman of my word.” I set the tone from the get-go that I wasn’t the one who had crossed the line of friendship.

“This is how we will start, I see.” Emmalyn sat down when it was clear I wasn’t going to offer up a hug, which I normally did when I greeted any of my friends.

“Hi, can I get you a drink?” The waitress had walked up.

“Yes.” I turned around in my chair and looked along the back wall of the barn where there was a bar with floor-to-ceiling shelves of every Kentucky bourbon and wine you could imagine. There was no mistaking the pride the Red Barn took in their spirits. “I’ll have a Maker’s and Coke.”

“I see we are going for the heavy stuff.” Emmalyn sighed and jerked her head to the side. She held up two fingers. “Make it two.”

“Two Maker’s and Cokes coming up.” The waitress turned and headed straight to the bar.

“Let’s get this out of the way, shall we?” Emmalyn fiddled with the edge of the fancy white napkin lying on the table. “What is going on?”

“Like you don’t know.” I leaned back in my chair with my hands folded neatly in my lap and stared at her, thinking that she was pulling my leg, but when the candle flickered a little higher, I could see in her eyes that she was clueless. “You don’t know, do you?”

“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did Jerry do?”

In her defense, I did remember when she told me once that Jerry never told her anything. Maybe she didn’t know.

“Hank’s job is on the line because the sheriff’s department needs his salary to help fund the budget for them moving.” It was pretty much cut and dry.

“What?” She threw herself forward and leaned on her forearms on the table. “Jerry is moving the department?”

“Okay, I can tell by your reaction you had no idea.” A ping of guilt about how I’d treated her when I saw her at church, of all places, really fell over me.

“No. And I would never have agreed with Jerry. Why? Why would they want to move the department?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure, since the lights were so dim, but I think there were tears in her eyes.

“This doesn’t make sense.” She shook her head and swiped her cheek where I knew now that this news had really upset her as she wiped away a fallen tear. “I’m calling him right now.” She reached for her cell phone.

“No.” I put my hand up to stop her. “But maybe if I tell you the story, you can somehow help out with some insider information.”

“Are you asking me to spy on my husband?” Her head tilted.

“Not spy, just poke around.” I noticed a little glimmer of a grin tick up on the edges of her lips.

The waitress brought over our drinks.

“Would you like to order?” she asked with a smile, shifting her eyes between me and Emmalyn.

“Yes. Two more.” Emmalyn lifted her glass into the air, sending the waitress away with a laugh. Emmalyn took a sip of her drink and looked at me. “What can I do to help? Give me the details.”

She eased back in her chair, sipping on her cocktail as I told her about the murder and how initially I had thought the murder was a setup so Hank would lose his job by not solving it quicker than Al Hemmer. I explained how that would be a good leg to stand on to argue that the deputy solved it before Hank, which meant they didn’t need Hank to do the job.

As I told the story, it just seemed so unreal that I even thought this way and a little silly knowing that Jerry and Emmalyn were some of my and Hank’s biggest cheerleaders.

Still, my mind was always racing with who I could and couldn’t trust in this life, but I knew I needed to move past it if I was ever going to have a fulfilling life.

“I just can’t believe this. Do you think Jerry knows? I mean, he didn’t want to hire Al, but of course with Judge Hemmer being his uncle, he was practically strong-armed by Courtney.” She referred to the mayor by her first name. “Courtney gives all sorts of promises, and I told Jerry that he just needs to retire and do something he’s passionate about.”

“What is that?” I was curious.

“He always wanted to open up his own private investigation office. It would be perfect. He can do it out of our home from the unattached garage. It’s fully insulated and has a living quarters upstairs that we were going to use for our parents when they got older, only they all moved to a warmer climate before they all passed. Now it’s just dead space. Our grandchildren like to go up there and hang out, but honestly, Jerry could easily start his own company.” The stress of what I’d told her was written in the deep wrinkles on her forehead that had yet to relax since I’d told her what I knew.

She sucked down the rest of her drink and continued. “You wouldn’t believe how many calls he gets for things like a private eye would get. ‘Can you go see if my wife is cheating on me? Just do a drive-by. You’re the sheriff. Ain’t it illegal to…’” She stopped talking and put the drink on the table. “Mae, who was the woman murdered?”

“Chelsea O’Connell.” I watched as something popped into her head. “She’s the realtor for Blair Builders who works for them to sell the lots they own.” I continued to talk to jog her memory even more.

The waitress came back with our other drinks, and Emmalyn told her to keep them coming. I could tell it was going to be a rough night, but I was about to do just about anything for Hank Sharp, and if that meant getting a tiny bit tipsy, I was all over it.

“Her husband called Jerry a few times about her over the last few months.” She sat there looking like she was staring off into space, though she was staring right at me.

“Did he tell you what he said?” I asked.

“No, but it didn’t stop me from listening, and I’m going to tell you because I’m so mad at Jerry right now, I’d rather him lose his job instead of Hank losing his.” Her eyes lowered, and she began to tell me. “He’s called a few times. His first call was about how he wanted a deputy to drive past the model home because it was in the middle of nowhere, and he was worried because Chelsea was coming home late. Jerry sent out Al Hemmer, who apparently had stopped instead of driving by.”

I sat there intently listening and only sipping on the first cocktail because I had to not indulge in drinking when I needed to remember everything Emmalyn was saying.

Chapter 16

The campground was alive when I got back from eating supper with Emmalyn. It was no shock to me to see Hank and Dottie along with Fifi and Chester sitting around the large communal firepit. Henry was also there, stoking the fire.

When I pulled up, I rolled down my window and waved.

“I’ll go park and be right back,” I told them as the car did a slow roll.

The ducks were in the lake and swimming in a group to each campfire ring around the lake on the shore. They were so smart. They knew if they went over to the campers, they would get thrown a treat or two.

There was a little background music from someone playing a guitar, but the sun had set and the moon had yet to hang high enough in the sky to get a real good picture of which camper was making the toe-tapping music.

After I parked my car, I headed into my camper and quickly changed from the Sunday church clothes I’d been wearing all day to a comfy pair of sweats and a sweatshirt.

I made my way down to the front of the campground by taking the long way around so I could say hello to everyone. I felt like it was important for them to know someone was always available and on-site.

If they didn’t need us for anything to do with camping, we were also there with a lot of information on activities to do around the park while they were there.

“Hey you!” I jerked around when I started to pass Bobby Ray’s concrete pad in front of the bungalow.

“Hey!” I couldn’t help but smile when I saw him. “Is Abby here?” I asked and looked for her car, but I didn’t see it.

“Nope. She had to get some of the returned books checked in, and I just told her I’d see her tomorrow after work.” I meandered over since I thought this would be a good opportunity to talk with him about his intentions. “Where’ve you been?”

“I went to eat supper at the Red Barn with Emmalyn,” I told him. “How are you and Abby doing?”

“I reckon we’re fine.” He pulled his baseball cap off of his nearly bald head and rubbed what was left of his hair back in place. “Why? Did she say somethin’?”

“I know it’s not my place. And you know if anything ever happens to the two of you that I love you and I love her.” I rolled my eyes. “God knows that I owe you for getting me out of Kentucky, and I owe her friendship for keeping me here.”

That sounded so funny and like one of those oxymorons.

“What are you beating around the bush about, May-bell-ine?” The look on his face suddenly gave me a sense of place.

“I shouldn’t say anything. You two are great. I love you both.” I hugged him around the neck, but the hug wasn’t returned with the big bear, two-arms-with-a-tight-squeeze kind.

“You’ve done gone and stepped in it now.” He pulled away and crossed his arms.

“Well.” I gnawed on my lip and knew I had to come up with a different way of saying it, only I’d never truly not been one-hundred-percent honest with Bobby Ray. “Fine. Abby is expecting an engagement ring from you. She thinks you’re the one, and if you aren’t thinking the same thing, then I suggest you tell her that you’re not in the same place right now.” I put my hands out when I saw him open his mouth. “Not that you won’t be in the future, but I honestly think she thinks it’s coming soon. Which I would love.” I put my hands up to my chest, and it was as if my mouth were on a hamster wheel that just wouldn’t stop. “I would definitely love Abby as a sister, but I couldn’t bear to see her heartbroken. Then I’d be pulled into two different directions, and it just wouldn’t be…” I finally stopped for a breath and saw he was grinning ear to ear. “What?”

“Well, I already asked her to marry me, and she said yes. I’m just waiting on saving up enough money to get her a ring.” There was a deep-down love for Abby that I could see on his face. “We weren’t going to tell anyone until I got her a ring, even though she told me she’d take a bread tie. But you and I both know I’m too proud to give her any old bread tie.”

My hands flew up around my mouth. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, but it took everything in my person not to squeal with joy.

“May-bell-ine, when a man knows, he knows, and there’s no need to wait.” Bobby was spewing over with love in his eyes.

“Bobby Ray.” I reached out and grabbed his arms, slid my hand down to lace my fingers with his. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” he asked. “I don’t want to go tell Dottie and Hank. We don’t want anyone to know just yet. She’s already going to be spittin’ mad when she finds out that I told you and she didn’t even get to ask you to be her maid of honor.”

“I’m the maid of honor?” I jerked around, still walking and guiding him up to the front of the campground where the storage unit was located.

“Golly gee, now I’m stepping in it.” He hung his head. “I just can’t stop. Just like you. Boy oh boy, we might not’ve come from Mary Elizabeth’s body, but we sure did get her ability to talk a leg off someone. We just don’t know when to shut up.”

Bobby Ray hemmed and hawed all the way up past Dottie, Hank, and Henry, but we picked up Fifi and Chester along the way. He didn’t shut up until I opened up my storage unit and started to thumb through the few boxes that Stanley, my former lawyer—or rather Paul’s former lawyer—had been smart enough to send with a few of my belongings to the campground before I’d even known about the campground. That even included the shirt Bobby Ray had on his person this very moment.

When Bobby Ray came to town with nothing but the shirt on his back, I knew I had a few items of Paul’s in the storage unit and had gone in there to get him a few things. While I was looking through the containers, I’d noticed a few smaller boxes that I didn’t bother opening because I had no use for them.

“May-bell-ine, I appreciate you giving me some of Paul’s clothes, but I’ve already proposed and in my greasy overalls, which was fine with Abby, so if you don’t mind…” He continued to talk and try to excuse himself while I dug through Paul’s clothes box and pulled out the small box. “What’s that?”

“It’s from me to you. I know I paid you back the cash you gave me to get my start in New York City and my life might not’ve turned out exactly like I thought it was going to when I boarded that old Greyhound bus all those years ago. But if not for you, I wouldn’t have what I have now. That means, without you, I wouldn’t’ve met Paul, who I can’t regret meeting because I wouldn’t be standing right here where I am loved by so many.” I faced the small box toward him and slowly lifted the lid. “This is my final gift to you to thank you for the life you’ve given me.”

“It’s… um, it’s… um a… um…” Bobby Ray fumbled with the words as he looked at the four- carat diamond. “Is that real?”

“It is. I know it’s just a diamond and not a ring, but Paul took me to the Swiss Alps once. He took me to a diamond mine, and I picked this out. I knew one day I was either going to make something out of it or give it to someone I love.” I put the box in his hand. “I love you and I want you to do with it what you want. Now, you’ll have to spend some money to get it set in a ring, but it’ll be the design you want to give your sweet Abby!”

“I… I…” He hesitated, and my heart sank at the thought of him not taking it.

“Listen, I know you’re prideful. I do. But she doesn’t have to know it’s from me. She won’t know. I won’t tell and if you tell, well then.” I blinked a few times to see through the darkness that had suddenly come upon us from the outside into the storage unit when I thought I’d seen the sparkle of a tear in his eyes. I cleared my throat and started to shove the clothes back in the box so he wouldn’t think I noticed he was getting emotional. “I won’t have it any other way. In fact, if you don’t take it, I’ll tell her you told me about the engagement.”

So I lied. I would never tell her his secret, and deep down he knew I wouldn’t, but it was worth a shot to play the card.

“I don’t even know what to say.” His voice broke. “I do think you owe me.”

I threw the last of the clothes in the box and started laughing.

“Of course you do, you big lug.” I whacked him in the arm with a light fist before I grabbed him, getting that big bear hug I was looking for a few minutes ago.

“You honestly don’t need to do this.” He shoved it in his pocket.

“You put it in your pocket fast enough,” I teased and couldn’t stop myself from getting emotional. “I never would’ve put you and Abby together, but I can’t think of anyone better for you and for her.”

“Thank you. This will look gorgeous on her finger.” He patted the pocket with the box and shook his head. “I sure never figured this was what you were going to do when you had me come in here.”

“Your secret is safe with me, but it won’t stop Dottie from hounding us if you don’t take at least one piece of Paul’s clothing.” I gestured to the box before I closed it up. “Grab something.”

It was really too dark to find something that he might like, and we didn’t bother flipping on the light. He just grabbed something and threw it across his shoulder.

“Good call,” he said. “Abby really does want to tell y’all herself.”

He helped me pull down the garage-style storage door and waited for me while I locked it using the keypad. It was much easier than using the regular old padlocks and having to fiddle with a key. Most of the others who did rent a storage unit had put a regular padlock on their unit, but I already carried a lot of keys around for the campground. Last thing I needed was another to add to the set.

“Where y’all been?” Dottie questioned and held up a steel rod with a flaming marshmallow on the end.

I bent down and blew out the flame, carefully pulling the burnt treat off the end and putting it into my mouth.

“I needed a work shirt and May-bell-ine told me to get one of Paul’s.” Bobby Ray pulled it off his shoulder to show them. He fumbled with it to find the top and when he held it up, it was Paul’s bikini bathing suit with bananas printed all over it.

“You’re wearing a literal banana hammock to work?” Hank doubled over in laughter.

“Geez, Mae!” Bobby shoved the Speedo in my chest before he stalked down the campground back toward his bungalow.

Bobby Ray had gotten mad at me for the piece of Paul’s clothing that he picked out, but it was my fault Dottie and Hank drilled me. They wanted to know why me and Bobby Ray had gone to the storage unit. I kept my mouth shut and told them it was between foster brother and sister.

Dottie poked me all night about it until I finally got Fifi so we could go home. Hank walked me back to the camper to tell me goodnight. We discussed what Emmalyn and I had talked about over the whiskey-and-Coke cocktails. We laughed about me having to put her in an Uber to get home.

Hank believed that Jerry would be giving him a call about his wife coming home two sheets to the wind. We got a good laugh out of it.

He—and I—did believe Jerry Truman didn’t know about Hank’s job or potential to lose it. After all, Hank didn’t hear it from Jerry himself. He’d heard it from Al, who at this point neither of us trusted.

We kissed each other goodnight, me and Fifi going into our camper and Hank and Chester going into theirs. My heart sank a little thinking about Bobby Ray and Abby’s relationship and how much it’d progressed faster than mine with Hank.

Bobby Ray’s words haunted me.

May-bell-ine, when a man knows, he knows, and there’s no need to wait.

“I don’t think Hank knows,” I whispered to Fifi when we got into bed.

Chapter 17

It felt like a train had hit me when I woke up to get ready to meet Betts. It wasn’t from sipping on the Maker’s and Coke. It was from crying myself to sleep thinking about Hank and how opposite our feelings were about our own futures. I clearly thought he was headed into my ever after, but I couldn’t say I was feeling I was in his.

Fifi wiggled around from underneath the covers when she felt me shift. It was her sign that I was somewhat awake.

“Hey, girl.” Her little curly white head popped out from under the covers and began to lick my face. “Good morning to you. At least someone wants to see me every morning.”

Fifi wagged her little body to the edge of the bed and jumped down after I swung my feet over and slipped them into my comfy slippers. I grabbed my sweatshirt and tugged it over my head as I made it down the hall, flipping on the coffeepot when I walked past it to open the door for Fifi to run outside and do her business.

I looked out and immediately looked toward Hank’s camper. His truck was there, but his detective car was already gone. It was past seven, so I knew he’d gotten an early jump on his full day of investigating.

The sun was starting to climb, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was going to be a perfect day to go clean with Betts then head over to Chelsea O’Connell’s house to talk to her husband.

I scooped up some of Fifi’s kibble and poured it in her bowl so it was ready when she came back in. It was next on her to-do list every day. One was potty. Two was eat.

She scratched at the door, and I opened it to let her in. She went straight to her bowl, and I went straight for a cup of coffee.

I had a few minutes to enjoy it, so I grabbed my purse from the front captain’s chair and sat down on the couch so I could grab the notebook out of it and go through it. I put aside any thoughts that were trying to creep in my head about Abby and Bobby Ray.

I refused to let it ruin my day and decided the next time Hank and I sat down for any length of time, I’d let him know how I was feeling.

I went back over the clues to keep my mind occupied and on the task at hand. Save Hank’s job.

I still had in my head the idea that Mayor Mackenzie knew about a budget cut, which meant Hank’s job, and Al was pretty sure about it, according to Hank, which told me someone had mentioned it to him. Was it Gab Hemmer?

“What if the mayor has no idea, but Gab found out Al and Chelsea were having an affair?” I asked myself, trying to really come to terms with whether the mayor and Gab had set up Hank by having Chelsea murdered so they could cut his job by saying Hank didn’t do his job efficiently. Was it a stretch?

Could be, even though I knew people were murdered for way lesser reasons. People’s motives were different.

“What if Gab did know about the affair?” I circled back around to that possibility. “Or not.” Fifi danced around me before she jumped up on the couch to snuggle next to me. I ran one hand down her fur and then took sips of coffee while I looked down at the notebook in my lap, rereading what Abby had written.

“We know the Greers didn’t do it.” I moved past their names. “Maybe Chelsea told Al that she wasn’t leaving her husband after all.” The words dangled from my lips. “Or the husband killed her. The spouse is generally the one.”

Fifi didn’t budge. She was used to me talking out loud.

With a few more sips of coffee, I continued to stare at the page of words that really was just that. Words. Nothing seemed to make any sense, and after today’s little snooping around, I hoped to have more to add to the timeline and the holes in my theory.

Fifi didn’t move when I got up to go get ready. I had to practically force her to go outside before Betts got there to pick me up.

With a quick text to Dottie with a reminder to let Fifi out for me, I grabbed my phone, purse, and keys, locking the door behind me when Betts tooted the van horn.

“Good morning.” She greeted me with that big old southern smile.

“Morning.” I sighed and eased into the passenger seat with my purse tight to my chest.

“Uh-oh, what’s wrong?” She asked and put the van in reverse. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Not on Hank’s part. But we aren’t going to talk about it. Let’s talk about Gab Hemmer and his wife.” I took the notebook out of my purse. I took the pen out of the coil that bound it together and flipped open the notebook to where Abby had originally written down everything we knew about me overhearing Gab’s heated discussion with Chelsea that day he was in the office doing some paperwork. “I’m curious to know what Gab was arguing with Chelsea about.”

“He does keep a lot of the paperwork from the National Park Committee in his home office. I usually clean that last because it’s a total mess in there, but you can clean it.” She drove farther and farther out of town until we finally got to a gate that had a couple of signs posted.

There was a Private Property sign and a Video Taping in Progress sign.

“I’d love to do it first. I have no idea what I’m looking for, but if he’s hiding something about some agreement he had with Blair Builders, then I’d think he’d want to keep it far away from the National Parks Office.” I looked out the window as the van groaned up to the tippy-top of the mountain on the long and steep driveway that led up to the front of a gorgeous wooden two-story cabin that was more like a mansion-cabin.

“If you could see the look on your face.” Betts laughed.

I ducked my head to see out the windshield to take in the huge home with what appeared to be a wall of glass. I shifted around in my seat to look out the two small windows of the back doors to see exactly what view the glass windows had and was not prepared for what my eyes would see.

“Yeah. That too.” Betts giggled more. She turned around. “Wait until you step outside. This has to be the best view.”

“And I thought I’d seen all the great views in the forest.” With the job I had, I’d been able to hike and explore so many trails, cliffs, and peaks that I’d figured it couldn’t get any prettier, but the Hemmers had a view of all the various mountains, valleys, and hills as far as the eye could see.

The streams were even visible with the various rapids when I looked down the mountain. I shifted my eyes to look up the mountain, and the sun had just tipped over the treeline, bringing in the most beautiful natural light to the park that was almost too gorgeous to look at.

“And I thought waking up in the campground was pretty amazing,” I whispered to myself when I got out of the van and did a three-hundred-and-sixty degree turn in super slow motion. “Hank has never mentioned this place.”

“Not a lot of people know Judge Hemmer lives up here. It’s been a well-kept secret. They do own a little cabin they rent out to hunters, but that’s about it.” Betts opened the double doors in the back of the van to grab her cleaning supplies.

“Exactly where in the forest?” I asked and wondered if the property was on the grounds of the new development and that was his tie of interest.

Betts slowly lifted her chin, but her mouth was wide open.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked.

She nodded a few times.

“I’ll be sure to pick Stella’s brain about it. Maybe see if I need to clean it for the upcoming season. Throw in a free cleaning since she pays me so well here.” Betts was always coming up with a clever way to snoop but make herself not feel guilty doing it.

She did it for one of two reasons. One, southern guilt. Or two, being a preacher’s wife all those years got her.

“I use the wood polish in his office.” She grabbed a bucket and put the polish in it with a clean rag. “I also get on my knees to do the floors in there.”

“I don’t like that.” I got a little worried when I noticed she put kneepads in the bucket with a little scrubber and some wood floor polish.

“And I use a little Windex on a towel for all the lampshades.” I didn’t think she could get any more cleaning supplies in the bucket, but she stuffed it full. “If you have time, you can fill the bucket with some warm water, after you clean the adjoining bathroom, and put in a little of this liquid cleaner to run along the baseboards. If not, you can use the wood polish rag to dust them off.”

She grabbed the bucket handle and lifted it toward me.

“That’s about it. Let’s go say hello to Stella.” She grabbed a mop, a broom, and her bucket. She used her elbow to shut each door one at a time.

I followed her up to the side of the house where the entrance was located. The back deck running along the entire front of the house didn’t have any steps or way to get up to the house, so the side entrance was the only way in that I saw.

“Knock, knock.” Betts juggled the items in her arms as she opened the door to step inside. “Something smells good today.”

“Let me help you.” A woman with black-rimmed glasses and collarbone-length, red wavy hair parted down the middle with duckbill clips hurried over. “Oh, you have help today.”

“I do. Stella, this is my friend Mae.” Betts looked back at me. “Mae, this is Stella the Hemmer’s personal chef.”

“Chef is a bit of a stretch. I just cook all the bad food with all the lard the judge likes.” Stella didn’t look like she ate any of the good food she was talking about. “You just missed Joyce and Gab. They had some errands to run before he had to be at court this afternoon.”

“Oh, really? I had some questions for her.” Betts looked perplexed, but I knew she was pretending. It was obvious Stella liked Betts.

“I probably know the answers. I shouldn’t but I probably do.” Stella went back to working around the kitchen. “Y’all want some coffee before you start?”

“I’m good. Where is the office? I can get started while you two chat.” I didn’t want to be in the way of Stella feeling like she could talk to Betts with me there.

“Right.” Betts gave a hard shake of her finger. “Go up this elevator to the third floor.”

“Elevator?” I looked at the wood door that I thought was maybe the pantry.

“Yep.” Stella cackled and slid the door open, revealing a small two-person elevator. “Just get in and hit the button.”

“Wow.” I stepped inside, and before I could turn around, Stella had closed the door. “Going up,” I said and pushed the button with a three printed on it.

The sound of hydraulics kicked in and pushed the elevator up at a slow speed. My fingers tingled like they were going to sleep from me gripping the bucket with both hands. A sign of nerves kicking in.

“The good thing is no one is home to be on the lookout for, so they can’t catch you snooping.” I gave myself a little pep talk.

The elevator door opened into the office, and boy, was Betts right about all the wood. At first, I’d thought she was exaggerating. Far from it.

I looked around and figured there was as much dark wood in this one room as on the entire outside of the house, but instead of strapping on the kneepads, I went straight to the desk to look around.

There were a few loose papers, but for the most part, there were piles of neatly stacked files and a desk calendar with nothing written on it. That was pretty normal for most people now that they could use the calendar on their phones to keep up with their appointments.

Quickly, I pulled one file off the other and noticed they all seemed to be court cases he was presiding over. I wasn’t sure exactly what the title “Judge Executive” meant or how it influenced a court of law, but he seemed to hold it in high regard.

“Not if you’re being sneaky,” I whispered as I answered my own thoughts and slid open the desk drawer. “Ah. Personal files.”

I dragged my finger down the files hanging in the drawer and stopped on the one that read “Rental Property.”

Pushing back the files on either side so I didn’t lose the placeholder, I pulled the file out and carefully put it on top of the desk, opening it.

There was a deed with the various papers attached to it like the septic system, the well water system, and the plot of land with the property lines joined to the adjoining property.

I used my finger to follow the stream of water and noticed it butted up to the development where Ava lived, which would be part of the new development if I was reading it correctly.

There were also a few sticky notes with “Rod Blair” and a phone number written on it.

I pulled my phone out and dialed the phone number, which was, indeed, Rod Blair’s.

“Mr. Blair.” I made my accent a lot twangier so he wouldn’t recognize it. “This is Judge Executive Hemmer’s employee, and I’m calling on his behalf to clear up some details about the property. If you wouldn’t mind giving me a call back at this number, we’d greatly appreciate it.”

Before I put my phone away, I snapped a few photos in hopes I could really hammer out what was going on—if anything was going on.

When I opened and scanned the various other drawers, I didn’t see anything that caught my eye as much as the rental file, which I put back right in its place.

I quickly dusted. I wasn’t about to strap any kneepads on, but at least I made the woodwork look a lot shinier than before I’d gotten there. A few scrubbing bubbles in the toilet with a swipe around the ring with the toilet brush and I was done.

I gathered the cleaning supplies and grabbed the bucket. When I stepped out into the hallway, I stopped to see if I could find out where the running vacuum noise was coming from. I knew at the other end of it would be Betts.

I was right. The hallway took me down a flight of stairs to the second floor, where Betts was busy humming a church tune while she happily swept their bedroom.

I’d never seen someone love to clean more than her.

“Is that ‘Blessed Assurance’?” I asked, remembering how Mary Elizabeth loved that song and recalling her belting it out in church with her eyes closed when I was a kid. I was never so embarrassed, especially since she couldn’t carry a tune.

“See. I knew you were coming around.” Betts joked about me not being in church all the time like her. “And I’ve been blessed with some very interesting information.”

“Does it have to do with the rental property that butts up to the Blair Builders project?” I asked.

“You already know?” She looked disappointed.

“Not all of it. Just that the Hemmers have property that looks like prime real estate for Rod to gobble up for some more homes.” I didn’t pull my phone out, but I told her how I’d gotten photos.

“That’s the problem. The property would have to have all sorts of geological stuff like stability piers and geotechnicians for there to be any sort of building. According to Stella, Rod and Gab made a deal but once Rod looked into what it was going to cost to begin to build, not to mention the hoops he would have to go through with the National Park Committee to build—” she gave me a sideways glance “—it wasn’t worth Rob’s money, but Gab said that he didn’t have to worry about the committee and he’d make sure it went through.”

Betts unplugged the sweeper and rolled up the cord.

“Here is the kicker. Gab’s nephew Al. Well, he got on the force because Gab told Mayor Mackenzie that if she got Al on the sheriff’s department, then he’d make sure he and the mayor would campaign together.” Betts pushed the vacuum over to the door and left it there but picked up her bucket. “He told Al to get in tight with Chelsea and make sure she sold the lots Blair Builders already has up for sale so Rod would feel like he needed more land and feel the pressure to buy Gab’s land no matter how many hoops they needed to get through.”

“Why would Gab push this? What would be the motive?” I asked.

“Money. Gab Hemmer is driven by money. He wants more and more of it, according to Stella.” Betts quickly looked out the door before she turned back to me. “I don’t want anyone to hear us.”

I took one of the rags out of her bucket and started to help her dust the baseboards. She started at one side of the room, and I started on the opposite so we could knock this out.

“Al fell in love with Chelsea. Apparently, Gab found out that Al was going to run off with Chelsea but told him that if he stuck around, he’d make sure Chelsea didn’t have to work for Rod by giving her a position in the courts so she didn’t have to work for Rod or worry about her husband. He sweetened the deal by telling Al that he’d hold back two acres of the land to give to him so he and Chelsea could build a home for them, including her little girl.” Betts didn’t say anything about Hank. “Gab said he’d make sure Chelsea won the custody hearing.”

“All of this is a lot.” It was a lot to digest. “Neither of them have real motive to have killed her. Did Stella say anything about Hank or his job?”

“I asked her about if she’d heard Gab say anything about the detective’s job going away, but she said no. Nothing about that. But Al hates being a deputy, and that’s why he was going to run off with Chelsea after the custody hearing.” Her shoulders fell. “Gab had a luncheon here the day Chelsea was killed. He and Mrs. Hemmer had all his financial election backers here for a reelection luncheon. Stella cooked, and they were here from noon until way past midnight.”

My mind reeled with the information. Though it did knock Gab and his wife off the suspect list, it didn’t knock off Chelsea’s husband, and this little story gave him all the more reason to have wanted his wife dead.

My next stop was going to be the most important of all in this investigation.

Chapter 18

Betts and I knocked out all the cleaning in record time. Though I was exhausted, I had told her to get the gals together for a quick roundtable to see what everyone had come up with. I was curious to see when the next Blair Builders meeting was going to be, and Abby was going to find out for us. Then Queenie was going to stop by the Blair Builders in Slade with some brochures for the park and the museum as a cover-up to see what she could find out.

I needed to update them with all the information I’d collected, and I hoped to have more on Chelsea’s husband as well.

The O’Connells lived in one of the many trailer parks in the Daniel Boone National Forest. It wasn’t like the campground. It was actual trailers that sat on government land. It was much more typical to live in a trailer than it was an actual house. That was why the development was such a big deal and in high demand.

It was costly to get all the permits needed, and there was a lot of red tape with the environmental groups and various other things needed like water and sewage, just to name a few. So most citizens opted to live in a trailer, making it a much simpler and cheaper lifestyle.

I noticed Hank had texted me while I was driving, so when I parked, I gave him a quick call.

“Anything new?” I asked him.

“Granny Agnes said Al had gone out on a call during the times Colonel had placed as Chelsea’s time of death. He did love tea, but unless he handed her his tea… and the cameras don’t place him at the gas station where he normally gets his big tea. So unless he got it somewhere else…” Hank sounded defeated. “There are no prints in that house or on that cup but Chelsea’s. Nothing. The killer must have wiped them somehow.”

“Yuck.” I sighed. “I did find out some information on Gab, but nothing that places him at the scene. In fact, he has an alibi.”

I gave Hank the unabridged version of my spotty cleaning job and sleuthing skills.

“So I’m headed in to see Chelsea’s husband now. Do you want to meet for an early supper at the Normal Diner?” I’d been hankering for one of Ty Randal’s melty and buttery grilled cheese sandwiches that would sit on my hips for days. My mind needed some greasing up, and the craving wouldn’t stop until I got what I wanted.

“Yeah. Maybe then Abby and Queenie will have some news too.” He sounded so pitiful. “Mae, I’ve been thinking about what Emmalyn said about Jerry and how she wants him to retire.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, turning the car off.

“Maybe I should just quit and open something up with him too. You know. Partners.” I listened to him make sense of it all and just figured he was only talking to himself, working it out.

“Why don’t we see what happens with Chelsea and get a clear head before you do anything irrational.” I made a simple suggestion which seemed to satisfy him for the moment.

We hung up the phone, and I got out to go have my little conversation with Darius O’Connell.

“Hi.” I took a step back when a man opened the door. He had a straggly brown beard, mussed-up brown hair, and a tank top on with jeans. “I’m Maybelline West with Hank Sharp’s office.”

Technically not a lie. I was Maybelline, though I didn’t go by that name. And I did own the office Hank was currently working from—the Happy Trails Office—so I was with the office. I even left off the detective part of Hank’s title just in case it could be used against me or him.

“I am stopping by to ask a few questions about Chelsea’s murder.” I saw some pain in the depths of his eyes. “Are you Mr. O’Connell?”

“Yes. Darius.” He opened the door and let me in. “The trailer is a mess, but you can come in.”

“I’m not here to judge anything.” I smiled and stepped into the trailer where there were piles of laundry on the couch and the television was blaring a soap opera.

He flipped off the TV, shoved some laundry to one side of the couch, and offered for me to sit while he took a seat in the rocking La-Z-Boy.

“What can I do you for?” he asked. “I thought I told the detective everything I knew.”

“Let’s start with Al Hemmer.” I made the simple suggestion because I wanted to see Darius’s reaction and if it was how I would think a killer would act.

“That stupid sheriff sent Al Hemmer out there to patrol. Don’t you know he stopped in and that’s when he forced himself on my Chelsea.” His jaw tensed.

“Forced himself?” I asked and looked over my shoulder when I heard some noise.

“Yeah. He took advantage of her all vulnerable and stuff.” He threw a hand up to the woman who walked in the room. She came over and started to fold the laundry.

“I’m sorry about this.” She apologized to me. “I didn’t know we had company. I’m Michele. Darius’s sister. I’ve come to help out for a few.”

“I’m sorry about Chelsea.” I felt like I needed to give my sympathy.

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s terrible,” her voice wavered as she broke out in tears.

“Yep. Al Hemmer. After she met him was when her long nights at the model home turned into longer nights. I didn’t put two and two together until I drove over there one night myself and found the two of them together talking about stuff that she had no business carrying on with him about.”

“What kind of stuff?” I asked.

“Things like how she is exhausted from being a mom and then coming home to cook. Then she told him how she didn’t like how I didn’t take her out on dates. We are married.” Darius was visibly getting shaken up. “I’m telling you that she told him that we were a family and she was done with their talks.”

“Talks?” I was a bit confused.

“Yeah. She didn’t have an affair with the guy. She just didn’t feel like she had anyone to talk to. I sent my sister over there too. Right, Michele?” He threw a glance to his sister.

“Yeah.” Michele put the folded laundry in a basket. “I just can’t believe she’s gone. I know my brother can be a pill sometimes and he’d filed for divorce, but he only did it to see what she’d do.”

“I guess it was moving forward because from what I hear, you had a hearing this morning for custody.” I looked at him before I looked over at his sister. She just looked at me and softly blinked with a slight shake of her head.

“I told him that she shouldn’t’ve done that. When a women’s children are threatened, then it’s gloves off and no telling what kind of mind she was in. I know when I met with her at Trails Coffee Shop, she was pretty mad.” The sister’s voice fell away when the sound of little feet came pitter-pattering down the hallway.

“Mommy. Mommy.” The child appeared around the corner, yawning and pushing her long black hair away from her face. Her footy pajamas had puppy dog faces all over them. “I’m sorry. I thought you were my mommy.”

Darius turned his face and shoved it in the crook of his elbow, breaking down in tears. Michele dropped the piece of clothing and hurried over to pick up the child, carrying her back down the hallway.

“I can’t even look at her. I can’t tell her that her mother is never coming home.” He couldn’t even look at me. There was something so vulnerable about a man crying. “I should’ve taken my sister’s advice and dropped the custody hearing and just let Chelsea go through whatever it was she needed to go through.”

Michele came back down the hall and put her hand on her brother’s shoulder.

“She wants you to come read to her when you get a chance.” He looked up at her nodded. “He reads to her every night. He has since she was born.”

“Never missed a night.” He smiled. First one I’d seen since I’d been here. “One time Chelsea tried to and Mia refused to listen. I make sure I’m home every night from work in time to read to her.”

“You seem like a really great dad.” I hated to ask him what I was about to ask, but I had to. “What were you doing Saturday late afternoon when your wife…” I left off at the word died or murdered. Either meant she was dead, and it was obvious he didn’t need to be reminded.

“The cops asked me the same thing. I was here with Mia. We were cooking.” He looked over at the kitchen.

“Those are Chelsea’s favorite cookies. Mia insisted they make them for her because Mia said her mommy hadn’t been feeling well.” Michele walked over and lifted up the plate of cookies. “Chelsea told Mia she wasn’t feeling well and that’s why her mommy and daddy were sleeping in separate beds. Mia counts the cookies every day to see if one is missing.” Michele put them back. “She believes if one is gone, Chelsea came home and ate one.”

“Oh my.” I tried not to get emotional, but it was a terribly sad story. “Chelsea was still living here?”

That seemed a little odd since they were going through a divorce.

“Yes. We’d not told Mia anything, and we weren’t really sure what to say or how, so we danced around the conversation. I was holding out hope that Chelsea would come around before the custody hearing, but she never said a word.” He frowned. “Back to where I was. I was here making cookies, and a couple of the neighbors had stopped by because they’d heard about me and Chelsea separating. You know how gossip spreads in a small town. The police already checked out my alibi.”

“Daddy! Daddy!” Mia screamed out.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” He stood up. On his way down the hall, he said, “Let me know if you need anything else. Tell the police station that they better keep Al Hemmer away from me.”

There was a silence that filled the room. I sat there for a second before Michele went back to folding more laundry, causing me to look up.

“I’m going to go,” I said. “Before I do, what did you say to Chelsea at the coffee shop?”

“I asked her to come home. That no matter what had happened, it can be fixed. Anything can be fixed.” She closed her eyes. The hurt she was feeling radiated out of her. “I remember when our mother left our father. It was so painful and hurtful that it stuck with me and Darius to this day. That’s why he said he’d let Chelsea do whatever she wanted if she just stayed in their marriage.” She placed a flat palm on her chest. “Our mother leaving hurt him more than it hurt me. Chelsea knew that, and I begged her to come back. She said that she didn’t love him. She said that Mia would grow up in a loving environment with them apart instead of a loveless and bitter home if she were to stay.”

“I’m sorry.” They were the only words I had that seemed to be appropriate.

“I told the police to look at Rod Blair because Chelsea did mention something very interesting to me. Rod Blair kept promising Chelsea things that never came true. Chelsea and Rod had words here before she and Darius had problems. That’s when Darius found out about the affair. Rod told Chelsea to do her job or he’d tell Darius about her affair with Al.” Michele gulped. “That’s when he called me and I came here. Chelsea didn’t know Darius had overheard her conversation with Rod. She thought he was in Mia’s room playing, but really he was standing in the hallway listening. That’s when he found out Al had decided not only to patrol, but to take advantage of Chelsea’s emotional side.”

“Goodness. Did you tell the police this information?” I asked and started to the door. “That Rod was practically blackmailing Chelsea?”

“Yeah. But I’m not sure if they even looked into it.” She walked with me to let me out.

This family was hurting. My boyfriend was hurting.

My phone buzzed in my pocketbook, and I dug down to take it out.

“Thank you for your time,” I told Michele when I noticed it was Rod Blair’s number coming across my phone. “We will be in touch.” I hurried out of earshot of Michele toward my car. “Hello?” I quickly answered before it went to my voicemail.

It was time to see what Rod had to say.

“Mr. Blair?” I asked.

“Yes. I’m returning your call. I’m a little shocked because when I left after the donation party, I thought Gab was happy with my very generous donation to the campaign.” Rod caught me off guard.

I never even thought he’d be one of Gab’s big campaign donors.

“Oh no. We are very grateful for your donation. Did you enjoy the party?” I asked.

“Enjoy it? I’m not sure if you were there, but apparently my wife said I was the life of the party until I passed out after midnight and they had to stuff me in my wife’s little convertible to get me home. I still have a crick in my neck where my wife left me in there all night until I woke up on my own the next day.” He chuckled.

“We just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I clicked the off button and got into the car.

I pulled open my purse and took out the notebook, flipping it to the suspect lists Abby had written down. Clicking the top of the pen, I started to mark off Gab Hemmer, Darius O’Connell, and now Rod Blair, each of them having a solid alibi.

Chapter 19

By the time I drove into downtown and parked my little Ford in front of the Laundry Club, I’d all but given up on who killed Chelsea O’Connell. Not a single person I had pegged as the killer didn’t have an alibi. They all had alibis.

Even Al Hemmer.

Betts had gathered all the ladies, and all of them were there but Dottie. Someone had to hold down the campground and take care of little Fifi.

“Betts was just telling us about the disappointing news with Gab.” Abby frowned. “I’m afraid we’ve all hit a dead end unless you got something on the husband.”

“Oh no. What?” I felt defeated. Not only for being wrong about everyone I thought made sense as the killer, but for Hank. I really wanted to solve this for him.

“Blair Builders called an emergency meeting after word got around that Chelsea had died. Gab Hemmer was there too. Apparently, they were both hungover bad.” Abby was about to tell me what I already knew.

“From the party Gab Hemmer had, which gives them both alibis.” I frowned and finished her sentence.

“Yes. But both men pledged five hundred thousand dollars to be set aside for Mia, Chelsea’s daughter, because they liked her so much. Rod said she’d made the company millions, and he’d pushed her too hard, but he knew she worked so well under pressure. He also pledged another twenty thousand dollars for a reward for information leading to the killer,” Abby said.

“There’s no way they’d donate all that money if they killed her. It would’ve been much cheaper to let her go and use that money to pay for all the hookups with the various fees they would’ve had to pay for the development to go through.” Queenie had put some paperwork down on the coffee table. “These are the total costs from each group Rod was going to have to seek approval and permits from. The environmental group was the costliest, but in the end the geotech’s report said the land wouldn’t hurt the conservation area, so Blair Builders was going to donate ten thousand dollars to the environmental fund.”

“So that means he was doing everything not only aboveboard but with a good conscience.” Though it was disappointing to still be wrong, it did make me realize there was so much good in the world and poor Chelsea’s life was the one that had to be lost for that good to take place.

“The husband has an alibi as well.” I smiled thinking about the sweet Mia. I told them about how I’d briefly met the cute little girl. “I am so blessed that I got my parents for the brief time they were here on earth and for my memories. Mia won’t remember her mom at all.”

There was a moment of silence before my phone rang.

“Violet Rhinehammer.” I groaned. “She knows how to spoil a moment.”

Everyone laughed while I stepped away and took the phone call.

“I’m digging up nothing. Everyone seems very clean. Even have a few do-gooders in the mix.” Violet opened up the dialogue without even saying hello.

“Yeah. I heard all about it. None of my snooping turned up anything either.” I knew she wanted something. “So now what?”

“I want you to go on camera about Hank’s job. I want to do an exposé on the mayor. The more I dig into this expansion, the more I think she’s using it to expand her political career and possibly run for governor under the notion she doubled the size of Normal and the economy.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to say anything about his job.” There was no way I was going to betray him like that.

“What if you go on camera as if I walked up and you were sitting, say, at Trail Coffee, and I just asked you about the lines at the courthouse? Then you can go into how you know that tourism has picked up because you did have a hand in it and was recognized by the mayor when she gave you the key to the city.” Violet reminded me about the honor that was given not only to me by the mayor, but to Violet too.

“I think I can do that.” It would be nice not to have such a corrupt mayor. Even though she didn’t have anything to do with the murder of Chelsea O’Connell—and neither did Jerry Truman—I did believe that Mayor Mackenzie knew about getting rid of Hank’s job to free up some budget. Maybe if she was exposed.

“Oh, and be sure to mention something about wondering where the mayor would cut spending in the budget to move the sheriff’s department.” Violet made a great point before she hung up the phone, telling me she’d meet me in about half an hour, which still gave me a good hour before I met Hank at the diner, which was just a couple of shops away from the coffee shop.

If the citizens of Normal found out the mayor even had an inkling of getting rid of Detective Hank Sharp, they’d be in an uproar. Everyone in Normal loved Hank. Including me. Future or no future with him, he was still an amazing guy.

“Where’s everyone going?” I asked when I walked back to the group and noticed they were all packing up.

“We all have some things to do before work tomorrow, and Queenie has a class tonight.” Betts spoke for everyone, which was normal, though I should’ve known Queenie was teaching her Jazzercise class from her outfit, but she usually dressed in spandex anyways.

“I’m really sorry, but I think we’ve just hit a dead end on this one, Mae,” Queenie said with a sympathetic look. “I don’t think Hank’s job has anything to do with the murder.”

“Me either,” I whispered, feeling defeated.

“I’m sorry, honey.” Abby reached out and squeezed my hand before she walked out behind Queenie.

“So now what?” Betts asked.

“Now I’m going to let the sheriff and Hank deal with the murder while I get some dirt on the mayor with Violet.” I gathered up my stuff and let Betts walk me to the door.

“Mae, just leave well enough alone. Go back to the campground and just enjoy your amazing life with a wonderful man. You’re one of the lucky ones.” Betts didn’t say it, but I knew she was referring to how her life had ended up with Lester.

I gave her a quick hug and threw my stuff in the front seat of the Ford before I darted across the road and galloped across the grassy medium and over the other one-way road and into Trails Coffee Shop, briefly stopping when I recognized the RV parked out front.

I’d seen so many RVs come and go from the campground, I wondered if it was someone staying at Happy Trails now, since I remembered seeing it fairly recently.

“Mae, I’m surprised to see you so late in the day.” Gert Hobson, the owner of Trails Coffee Shop, was behind the counter. “How has the coffee gone over at the recreation center? It was a new blend that I think I’m going to take international.”

“Really?” I was so excited for her. Gert had been a victim to someone who had scammed her coffee recipe and made lots of money. Luckily, Gert had come out on the other side and was now getting paid back in profit what she was worth. But she never stopped working at her little coffee shop here in Normal.

“That’s great. You know, I haven’t tasted it? I’ve been a little busy snooping around that murder over in the new development.” I noticed Violet had come in with her little tape recorder and sat down at the small table off to the side that wasn’t really visible unless you walked over that way. “I’m here to meet up with her.”

I walked up to the counter.

“Can I get two of those special blends you’re talking about sent over to us?” I noticed a bundle of flowering Jimsonweed sitting on her counter. “Where did you get these?” I asked Gert.

“A customer picked them. I told her they were poisonous. She’s in the bathroom.” Gert busied herself with the cappuccino machine. “I’m making a hot chocolate and unsweet tea to go.” She snorted. “Who on earth drinks unsweet tea?” She tsked. “Unnatural.”

My mouth dried. My palms sweated. I turned around and looked out the window at the RV parked in front of the coffee shop. There was a man with a baseball cap on in the driver’s seat.

It suddenly hit me where I knew the RV from.

“Chelsea O’Connell,” I gasped and turned around to find I was face-to-face with Michele, Chelsea’s sister-in-law, and little Mia, clinging to her. “Sister-in-law.” I planted a huge smile on my face and acted as if I couldn’t remember her name. My gaze slid down to the little girl. “Mia. Hi, do you remember me coming to your house the other day?”

“We sure do. Isn’t that right, Mia?” Michele’s head tilted, and I could tell she was putting it all together. “Aren’t these the prettiest flowers Mia picked? I bet our friend here loves Jimsonweed.” She never took her eyes off of me.

I turned back around to Gert and said, “I’ll take my coffees to go.” I patted around for my cell phone, realizing I’d just stuck everything in my car, including my money. “I forgot my money. I’ll be right back.”

“Mae, I think I can give you a coffee.” Gert laughed and placed Michele’s order on the counter.

“No. I’ll go get it.” I insisted on getting out of there.

“I’m more than happy to pay for it since you’re investigating what happened to Mia’s mom.” Amusement lurked in Michele’s eyes.

“You are? Hank finally let you help him?” Gert just wouldn’t stop talking. “Where are y’all staying? In Happy Trails Campground? You know, Mae owns it.”

“Is that right?” Michele asked and took a few dollars out of her Gucci bag to pay for the drinks.

The room started to spin. Her handbag was the same one I’d seen being carried by the lady who was part of the couple that had come to tour the model home.

“When did you say you got into town?” My voice cracked as I tried to play it cool as the pieces of Michele killing Chelsea came into my head like a complete puzzle. I didn’t let her answer after I looked back outside and noticed the man in the RV staring out of his window into the coffee shop with the same hat that I’d seen on the woman right before Chelsea died.

“One unsweet tea for you. And for you, a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.” Gert was so oblivious to what was going on between me and Michele. “I was just saying to Mae that no one around here drinks unsweet tea.”

“No one but Chelsea O’Connell, who just so happens to have been poisoned with Jimsonweed in unsweet tea after I saw someone in an RV that looks just like that one pull up and a couple get out of it with a baseball cap that looks like the one that guy is wearing.” I pointed out the window. “And the woman had a Gucci bag just like the one you have, and trust me when I say that I know my designer bags.”

“Mia, why don’t you go get your Uncle Albert. Tell him that Auntie Michele needs him right now.” She sent the little girl out of the coffee shop.

“What’s going on?” Gert asked nervously. “Do I need to call the sheriff?”

“That’s won’t be necessary.” Michele walked behind the counter and jerked the phone out of the wall. “I will need your cell phone though.”

“I’m not giving you my cell phone.” Gert’s brows furrowed. “What is going on here?” Gert took a couple of steps backward, her hands behind her like she was reaching or searching for something on the counter.

“Michele is Chelsea O’Connell’s sister-in-law, and I have reason to believe that she killed Chelsea with Jimsonweed in unsweet tea!” I hurried behind the counter to get between Gert and Michele as I yelled in hopes Violet was smart enough to stay out of sight and turn on the tape recorder.

“That’s ridiculous. My husband and I came to town as soon as we heard what happened. We don’t have children, so I knew that my brother was going to need me.” Michele lifted her chin, her eyes focused on the weed on the counter.

“I thought you told me that she was your daughter and you were moving across the country.” Gert seemed so confused. “You lied.”

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” Michele noticed Gert was going for the knife she had on the counter, and she ran over and grabbed it before Gert could get it.

Gert ran over to me, and we huddled together.

“Where is Darius?” I asked.

“Darius is grieving the loss of a two-timing loser who never deserved him or that sweet little girl out there. I had to listen to my brother carry on and on about how his precious wife was cheating on him. It was Mia who would suffer from a crazy mother and father who fight all the time. It’s those type of people who get the blessings of a child when I’ve worked so hard for the past eight years to try to conceive.” Michele’s nose wrinkled. The words seethed from her mouth as she waved the knife in front of us. “Now it’s my turn to raise Mia. I confronted Chelsea a few times, telling her that she was blessed to have a child. She only mocked me. Told me that my brother wasn’t good enough to be a father. Neither of them were good enough. Both selfish. Not deserving of Mia.”

Gert and I continued to hold on to each other as Michele slowly pulled the Jimsonweed closer to her, using the knife to chop it into fine pieces before she poured a cup of the hot coffee from the carafe and added the weed to it.

“My husband is going to come in here and do awful things to each one of you if you don’t be good women and drink your coffees.” She smiled like she’d won. She picked up the mug and walked it over. “Or you can share. You two seem pretty chummy.”

She held the cup up to my lips, sticking the knife up to my neck. I moved my head back and forth, trying not to let any of it seep inside my mouth, the knife racking my skin. I could feel the blood trickling from the scrape the sharp blade was making.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see movement from outside, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off her or move my head in fear the blade would slice my carotid artery.

As soon as the door of the coffee shop jerked open, I let out a crazy, full-throated shriek before I ran like unleashed hell straight at Michele, sending her to the ground, the knife slung out of her hands from the sheer force of me taking her down.

When I looked up, Hank Sharp, Jerry Truman, and Al Hemmer were standing over us with guns pointed at our heads.

Violet Rhinehammer was standing not too far behind them with the tape recorder pointed directly at us.

Violet’s piece on the mayor was just going to have to wait.

Chapter 20

“I’m so glad you didn’t drink that coffee.” Mary Elizabeth was taking it all in as I had told her about how I had figured out that Chelsea’s sister-in-law had planned to kill her and kidnap Mia. “And to think she almost killed Darius.”

“Yeah. After I told Hank about Michele’s vague answer about where Darius was, he sent Al to their trailer and found him almost dead. They got him to the hospital in time to reverse the poison Michele had put in his tea.” I just couldn’t imagine being lucky enough to have a sibling only to have them try to kill you.

“I’d do anything to have a sister.” I blinked and ran my finger along the wound that was on my neck, leaning my hip on the counter.

“Let me see that.” Mary Elizabeth finished putting her homemade biscuits on the baking sheet and came over to look at my neck. “I need to put some ointment on that so you don’t scar.”

I let her baby me. It was one joy that she loved to do, and it was one thing I needed from her today.

For the past few days, I had been happy to take care of Mia while her dad was in the hospital. She loved the campground, and even though Hank still claimed he didn’t want children, it was plain to see the joy he took when he taught her how to fish, even though she was really too little.

“You know, I love this.” I glanced over at Mary Elizabeth as she put the homemade biscuits in the oven. She was covered head to toe in flour from the exploded flour bag. “Your pearls,” I whined, grabbed a towel, and headed over to her.

“What about them?” She gasped and stood straight up, closing the oven door.

She tried to look over my shoulder to get a glimpse of her reflection in the microwave.

“Look.” I couldn’t stop laughing and lifted the strand of pearls off her chest to show her the dusting of flour all over her front.

She threw her head back and cackled.

“I reckon they are only pearls. They’ll wash.” She looked at me and brought her hand up to my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear. “I never say it enough, but I am so proud of you.”

“You don’t have to say it.” My heart swelled. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my mama and daddy, but if you count up the years, you’ve been in my life longer and honestly really did shape the heart and soul I have today.”

I didn’t want anything to take away the love I had for my family, and I hated to admit it, but all the memories of my family stopped when I was a child. Sometimes lately when I sat down to really think about my parents, it’d been taking me longer to remember how their voices sounded, and even then, I wasn’t so sure whether they were truly their voices or if I’d made up voices in my head to be theirs. But I loved them no matter what.

Mary Elizabeth put her hand up to her heart.

“I love my family, but actually doing this—” I held the towel up between us—“these are the memories and moments I want to have to continue with my children.”

“Children?” Mary Elizabeth’s eyes popped open. “Are you?”

“Gosh no.” I shook my head, and suddenly the images of my words popped into my head. There was definitely a world in the future where it appeared I’d consider the possibility that I’d like to be a mom. Something I’d always thought I’d never do.

The creak of the kitchen screen door brought me out of my head.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I shoved the thought out of my head and turned to see what Dawn Gentry was up to, only it wasn’t Dawn Gentry coming in the door. “Can we help you?”

There was a woman with greasy and stringy black hair standing in the doorway. She had on a plaid button-down that hung like a curtain on her thin frame. Her face was gaunt, and her right eye was black and blue.

“Are you okay?” I hurried over after I noticed there was some dried blood on her lip. “Mary Elizabeth, get some ice and call 911.”

Mary Elizabeth wasted no time getting over to the freezer and grabbing a couple of the first aid ice packs she kept in there for her guests in case they needed one from hiking, bug bites, sprains, or the like.

“No.” The fright in the woman’s eyes scared me more than how her face had gotten that way. “No cops.” Her voice cracked. She looked past me, fiddling with her fingers. “I’m sorry, Mary Elizabeth, I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Alicia?” Mary Elizabeth’s face softened. “Alicia Becker?”

Mary Elizabeth obviously knew this woman. She rushed over and took Alicia in her arms. She looked beyond the door as if she were looking for someone. It was as if she’d seen the coast was clear and used the toe of her shoe to shut the main door.

“Maybelline, lock the doors.” There was no room by the tone in Mary Elizabeth’s voice to argue. I just did it.

“Who is Alicia Becker?” I asked Mary Elizabeth after I turned back to them and noticed the severity of what was happening around me.

“She’s the foster child I took in after you left.” Her words sent a spiral of shock through me.

“You had another foster child?” I asked, standing over the two, watching Mary Elizabeth care for the beat-up woman.

“Honestly, Mae, do you think life stopped when you crawled out that window?” Mary Elizabeth’s voice held an edge. “You might not’ve needed me then, but someone else did.”

Her words stung me to my core, but I knew she was right. I had changed.

“Hi, Alicia. I’m Mae.” I bent down to look at the damage to Alicia’s face.

“I know who you are.” She lifted her head, and even though her eye was black, blue, and bloody, I could see a deep-set anger when she saw my face.

The End

Do you want to find out who Alicia Becker is and what she’s doing in Normal? Continue to put your sleuthing skills to the test with INSECTS, IVY, & INVESTIGATIONS, book 17 in A Camper & Criminals Cozy Mystery series.

But wait! Before you flip on through to the yummy recipes, I wanted to answer a question I get from so many readers. Readers want to know if any part of my fictional characters imitate my real life.

I’ve got a story for y’all. A real story.

Whooo hooo!! I'm so glad we are a week out from last Coffee Chat with Tonya and happy to report the poison ivy is almost gone! But y'all, we got more issues than Time magazine up in our family.

When y'all ask me if my real life ever creeps into books, well... grab your coffee because here is a prime example!

My sweet mom's birthday was over the weekend. Now, I'd already decided me and Rowena was going to stay there for a couple of extra days.

On her birthday, Sunday, Tracy and David were there too, and we were talking about what else... poison ivy! I was telling them how I can't stand not shaving my legs. Mom and Tracy told me they don't shave daily, and I might've curled my nose a smidgen. And apparently it didn't go unnoticed.

I went inside the house to start cooking breakfast for everyone, Mom went up to her room to get her bathing suit on, and Tracy was with me. All the men were already outside on the porch.

The awfulest crash came from upstairs, and my sister tore out of that kitchen like a bat out of hell, and I kept flipping the bacon. My mom had fallen... shaving her legs!

Great. Now it's my fault.

Her wrist was a little stiff, but she kept saying she was fine. We had a great day. We celebrated her birthday, swam, and had cake. When it came time for everyone to leave but me and Ro, I told Mom that she should probably go get an X-ray because her wrist was a little swollen.

After a lot of coaxing, she agreed, and I put my shoes on and told Tracy, David, and Eddy to go on home and we'd call them.

My mama looked me square in the face and said, "You're going with that topknot on your head?"

I said, "Yes."

She sat back down in the chair and said, "I'm not going with you lookin' like that."

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm dead serious. I'm not going with you looking like that. What if we see someone?" She was serious, y'all!

She protested against my hair!

Now... this is exactly like the southern mamas I write about! I looked at Eddy, and he was laughing. Tracy and David were laughing, and I said, "I can't wait until I tell my coffee chat people about this."

As you can see in the above photo, the before and after photo.

Yep... we went, and she broke her wrist! Can you believe that? We were a tad bit shocked, and I'll probably be staying a few extra days (which will give us even more to talk about over coffee next week.)

Oh... we didn't see anyone we knew, so I could've worn my topknot! As I'm writing this, you can bet your bottom dollar my hair is pulled up in my topknot!

Okay, so y’all might be asking why I’m putting this little story in the back of my book. Well, that’s a darn tootin’ good question.

This is exactly what you can expect when you sign up for my newsletter. There’s always something going on in my life that I have to chat with y’all about each Tuesday on Coffee Chat with Tonya. I hope you join us by signing up at my website, Tonyakappes.com.

Sneak Peek

Insects, Ivy, & Investigation

Chapter One

There were times when I had wished Mary Elizabeth Moberly had another foster girl when I was living with her. Living her with her was the key. Not after I had grown up, gotten married, gotten divorced, almost went to jail, inherited a run-down campground, not only got the campground up and running with the income in the black, I also helped the economy in Normal, Kentucky thrive with the help of some friends. This was twelve years after I’d left Mary Elizabeth.

So when a woman with stringy, greasy, black hair with matching blue and blue bruises around both eyes, standing in the doorway of The Milkery, the bed and breakfast Mary Elizabeth owned in Normal, claiming to be Mary Elizabeth’s other foster daughter, call me a little leery.

That’s what a life of uncertainty did to me. Made me leery of everyone who crossed my path and I wasn’t claiming that to be a good trait. It wasn’t. In fact, it was an awful one.

Many times at night I begged to wake up the next day with an attitude of everyone was kind-hearted until they proved me wrong. But life had not done that to me, making me a wee-bit hard-hearted, as they say in Kentucky, and people had to prove they were kind and good.

After my ex-now dead-husband, Paul West, had proved to me that words were just words and actions did speak louder than those words, it put my guard up on just why someone, after all of these years, would try to come back into someone’s life.

Let’s take Alicia Becker for instance. Yep, she’s the skinny chick that waltzed right on into the screen door of the Milkery with face that someone had the pleasure of knocking around on and who proclaimed she was Mary Elizabeth’s long lost foster daughter.

“Really, Mae?” I questioned myself and beat the steering wheel with the flat part of the palm of my hand against it on my way back to Happy Trails Campground. “You are questioning what Mary Elizabeth did when you up and climbed out the bedroom window as soon at the clock struck the actual time you were born on your eighteenth birthday?”

So I talked to myself. I did that a lot growing up, hence the no other girls in Mary Elizabeth’s home. And the fact that my pride got in my way a lot and I really never wanted to dump my problems on anyone. I was a fix it girl. Today, I was bound and determine to fix this Alicia character and what she wanted.

I snorted and gripped the wheel, glancing over at Fifi, my miniature poodle, and my constant companion.

“What do you think?” I asked her. She wagged her tail before she got up and looked out the window as I took the right turn to head up the long drive to the campground where we lived and I owned that was located deep in the Daniel Boone National Forest.

Fifi propped herself up on her hind legs and pawed at the passenger side window, her way of telling me to roll it down so she could stick her nose out for some fresh air.

“We could use some fresh air.” I hit the automatic window buttons on the side of my door handle to make all four windows in the old Ford Focus to roll down,

I sucked in a few deep breaths and slowly drove up toward the campground. The warm sunny day had dried out the gravel drive, making the gravel spit up under the tires and ping off the bottom of my car. A common sound around these parts. It was expensive to get black top and with the campground so far off the main road, it wasn’t cost effective. But that was the least of my problems.

“Alicia Becker,” I groaned under my breath and drove straight past the campground ground office with my eyes set on Bobby Ray Bond’s bungalow that was on the far side of the huge lake that was located in the middle of Happy Trails Campground.

“Where you goin’?” Dottie Swaggert was sitting in one of the chairs located outside of the office with it reclined back on its two hind legs, her skinny legs dangling and smoke billowing out of her mouth like a freight train. “May-bell-ine!” She hollered again and wobbled the chair down to all fours. “Hey!”

I threw my hand out the window to let her know that I saw her and that I’d be back since it was time for me to relieve her from work. Dottie was my office manager and she had worked the early shift at the campground office this morning while I went to visit Mary Elizabeth.

We were having a good time too. We were baking and laughing, like a mother and daughter liked to do together. It was going great. I cherished those times, probably because I had spent the better part of the past two years making up to her for being such a pill when I was a teenager and she actually took me in after my family had died in a horrific house fire.

I liked to use the excuse how my attitude was teenage anx, but in reality, I was mad and confused and just plain angry.

Today was a good day. Until Alicia Becker had showed up.

“Come on.” I pulled right behind Bobby Ray’s truck in the concrete pad next to the bungalow where I let him live for free and threw the car in park. “You can run around.”

Fifi jumped over the console and waited on my lap for me to open my door. She bolted out of the car and headed straight for the lake where the ducks where minding their own business, which just ticked Fifi off to no end and had to ruin it by jumping in.

I liked to think, for the poor ducks, Fifi thought she was one of them or they were her friends. But that wasn’t the truth. The truth of the matter, Fifi took pleasure in swimming towards them, chasing them while her yippy bark caused them to scatter in all directions.

“That’s gonna cost me a bath.” My eyes narrowed when I noticed the dog’s white fur was already taking on a little bit of the moss that looked to have formed on top of the lake.

I made a mental note to see Henry Bryant, Happy Trails handyman, about the irrigation in the lake and to make sure it was working properly. I’d spent too much money on it for it to be messing up and it only a few years old. Besides, the campground was full now that spring had sprung and the guests sure didn’t pay for a mucky lake to laze around in.

Seeing Henry was going to have to wait.

I slammed the car door and stalked up to the door, giving it a hard knock before I turned the knob and walked in.

Something I normally did.

“Bobby Ray, who is.” My mouth closed, my eyes grew big when I saw Bobby Ray bent down on one knee with a little box opened in front of Abby Fawn. Abby’s shoulders dropped, Bobby Ray hung his head. I gulped. “Alicia Becker?”

Insects, Ivy, & Investigation is now available at

Amazon and FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Recipe and Hack from Mae West and the Laundry Club Ladies

Cinnamon Buns on a Stick

I don’t know about y’all, but I love any food that comes on a stick. Especially when you can make them over a campfire like these delicious cinnamon buns that my family really loves.

Ingredients:

1 package of crescent rolls

¼ cup of sugar

1 tbsp cinnamon

¼ cup powdered sugar

3 tsp water

Directions:

1. Combine the cinnamon and sugar in a bowl.

2. Unroll each crescent roll and wrap each one around a stick.

3. Roll each crescent roll, on the stick, in the cinnamon and sugar.

4. Hold over the campfire for roughly five or so minutes.

Glaze:

Mix the powdered sugar and water together to make the glaze.

After the cinnamon rolls are nice and browned, pour some glaze over each one! Delicious!

Camping Hack

The best campging and camper hacks are the ones that you learn as you go along, the unwritten ones that you just learn but forget to tell your newbie camping friends. Here are Mae’s top unwritten camping tips:

1. When you own your own camper, you generally get to pick out the spot you want if you’ve made a reservation online or if they have the choice if you show up to a campground. Mae suggests to pick a spot where you’re not parked next to someone.

Yep! Don’t park right next to someone. Not only does it give them privacy, but it also gives you privacy. You can always meet your neighbor, which Mae encourages, but we love to go camping to enjoy nature.

2. Mae loves the darkness the night brings to Happy Trails Campground because you can really see the stars. Some campers live in the city and camp to escape. Did you know they can’t see the gorgeous night sky where they live?

Mae asks all her campers to turn off the porch and outside awning lights when they go in for the night.

3. There’s nothing more soothing than a good guitar, banjo picking that echoes around a campground. Mae encourages her guests to enjoy a little music, but today’s fancy campers have outside sound systems and televisions which true campers like to escape from and leave behind while they are enjoying the great sounds of the outdoor.

Mae strong suggests that if you must watch your outside television or listen to your surround sound, do it but at a low volume so the rest of the campground doesn’t have to listen.

4. Above all…Mae suggest to just relax, close your eyes and enjoy your visit to Happy Trails Campground.

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About Tonya

Tonya has written over 176 novels, all of which have graced numerous bestseller lists, including the USA Today. Best known for stories charged with emotion and humor and filled with flawed characters, her novels have garnered reader praise and glowing critical reviews. She lives with her husband and a very spoiled rescue cat named Ro. Tonya grew up in the small southern Kentucky town of Nicholasville. Now that her four boys are grown men, Tonya writes full-time.

Learn more about her be sure sure to check out her website tonyakappes.com. Find her on Facebook, Twitter, BookBub, and Instagram

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This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The cover was made by Mariah Sinclair, Red Adept Publishing.

Copyright © 2021 by Tonya Kappes. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information email Tonyakappes@tonyakappes.com