Gear, Grills & Guns: A Camper and Criminals Cozy Mystery Book 13
Date: 2020-10-21 00:00:00+00:00
Description: "Romance, a lovable bunch of eccentrics, and a collection of recipes with murder most foul. "--Kirkus"Scrumptious... Fans of culinary cozies will have fun. "--Publishers Weekly" A sweet Southern mystery with a delightful plot and quirky characters who quickly make you feel at home. "--San Francisco Book ReviewWelcome to Normal, Kentucky~ where nothing is normal. Mae West is bound to prove she deserves the seat she was appointed to on the National Park Committee when she brings a big car show to Normal during the slower fall month. But, when Wendell Holliday's body is found dead in one of Happy
Publisher: Independently published

Gear, Grills, & Guns

A Camper & Criminals Cozy Mystery Book 13

Tonya Kappes

Contents

Preview

Get Free Books

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

Recipes and Camping Tips

Lemon Chicken Skillet Style

Camping Tip – Toilet Paper Fire Starter

Your Mama’s Biscuits and Gravy Dutch Oven Style

Camping Tip - Reflective Windshield Cover Hack

Leave a review

About tonya

Also By Tonya Kappes

Preview

Gear, Grills & Guns

A bloodcurdling scream came from one of the bungalows. I took off running, leaving Dottie in the dust. The sound of her plastic heels echoed in the dark night, giving the screamer an eerie-sounding acoustic drum. I fumbled with my flashlight and flipped it on to light my path so I wouldn’t fall.

Quickly, I went from bungalow to bungalow, following the call for help until I noticed bungalow four’s door was knocked in.

“Mrs. Holliday?” Cautiously, I pushed the door open with the toe of my boot and shined the light inside.

“What is it?” Dottie stood beside me, the plastic slippers in her hands, her breathing heavy.

“I think Mr. Holliday is dead.” I shined the light on Lonie Holliday.

The hem of her long black satin nightgown flapped in the fall breeze as she stood over her husband with a gun in her hand.

GET FREE BOOKS

Join Tonya’s newsletter to stay up to date with new releases, get access to exclusive bonus content, and more!

Join Tonya’s newsletter.

See all of Tonya’s books.

Join Tonya’s Reader Group on Facebook.

For extras and fun on Tonya’s Patreon account.

Find all these links on Tonya’s website, Tonyakappes.com.

Chapter 1

“Whose brilliant idea was it to go hiking?” Mary Elizabeth had not worn sensible shoes to make the nine-mile hike.

She bent over and used her walking stick to pluck the rocks from the soles of her tennis shoes, which were meant for concrete, not walking over muddy paths, fallen leaves, or damp ground.

But her clothes were on point as were her nails, even though the fall rainstorm we’d just had in the region had blown the leaves off the trees, and they stuck to the muddy path, making a mosaic on the ground.

“I told you to wear some hiking boots.” I couldn’t help but smile at the pair of designer khaki pants, white buttoned-down blouse, and the red bandana she had stylishly tied around her neck though not too tight so the pearl necklace would show. The red cardigan knotted around her waist was the perfect shade to match her bandana.

Since I was on the National Park Committee, I’d signed us up to explore the new trail opening. There was no doubt in my mind that as soon as I told her, she’d gotten online and ordered the outfit because there was a little red linen around the tennis shoes that also matched perfectly. There weren’t any stores in Normal, Kentucky that would match Mary Elizabeth Moberly’s hiking style.

“Things your mother does for you.” She stood back up and dug her walking stick into the damp ground. She ran her hand down her blouse then reached up to skim her fingers along her pearls to make sure they were still there.

I’d asked her to consider leaving the pearls at The Milkery, the dairy and bed-and-breakfast she owned with Dawn Gentry. She lived there too.

“A true southern woman is always seen with lipstick and her pearls,” she’d told me and quickly followed up with how I should apply a little color to my lips too.

“And I thank you for coming. It’s just a few more miles,” I said, happy we’d gotten really close since she’d come to see me then decided to live in Normal.

I’d been adopted by Mary Elizabeth as a teenager after a fire engulfed my family home, leaving me an orphan. Even after treating Mary Elizabeth poorly and hightailing it out of her house in the middle of the night on my eighteenth birthday, she was still eager to treat me like a daughter and continued to love me unconditionally. It wasn’t until now, in the early years of my thirties, that I truly appreciated all she’d done for me, and I’d spent the last couple of years making up for it.

“From what I understand, there’s going to be a series of cascades where Cat Camp Creek and Tear Trace Trail meet.” From what I’d heard, the new trail was going to be one of the prettiest, and it started at the Old Train Station Motel.

Coke Ogden, the owner, had been trying for the past year to get a new trail for her guests, one that wasn’t just woods, and she’d been making her own tracks to get to the cascades. The cascades from her motel were about six or so miles away then another two miles to make it to the shelter she’d paid the national park to install, which was the reward for her guests at the end. I was eager to see if it truly was the spectacular view Coke had claimed it to be, and since I wasn’t on that particular board of the committee, I had no idea what to truly expect once we hiked there.

If we made it there.

“Plus, I heard there was some good trout fishing once we make it to the shelter.” I knew that would get her goat. I pointed to the small flowing stream that’d run along the entire trail. “Coke said she knew when she found the stream that it had to lead to a bigger body of water. She kept hiking deeper and deeper. That’s when she found the cascades.”

“Great. Smelly fish and wet the entire hike.” She groaned and straightened her shoulders. “Let’s get on with it so this excursion can be over.”

Instead of coddling her, I decided to forge ahead, even if she truly wanted me to continue to ask her if she wanted to go back, turn around, or sit down.

Every step I took, I couldn’t believe how gorgeous the trail was and what a gem Coke had happened upon. Granted, the park committee had come in and made the trail nice and clean for the hikers, and safe, but none of the amazing foliage was touched.

“It’s like entering a different world.” Mary Elizabeth looked around, taking in the mountain laurels in full bloom with their hot-pink and pale-pink flowers, soon to be long gone as the winter set in.

She reached out and touched it.

“Gorgeous.” I stopped behind her and scanned the various cliffs and rock formations.

Some hung over our heads, making a nice canopy, while others were off in the distance. The trail was partially covered in the golden, red, orange, and yellow leaves that had organically started to fall off the trees. When I looked above my head, the canopy of the same colors was a visual fall explosion as fireworks were on a warm summer night.

These were the sights I took for granted and didn’t appreciate about Kentucky or the state park when I was a child. Now I didn’t take anything for granted.

“Oh my, Mae.” Mary Elizabeth was a few feet in front of me when she stopped, her mouth wide open as she stared off into the distance. “You aren’t going to believe this view.” She lifted her walking stick and pointed it in front of her.

Before I could even get close enough to catch her, her feet slipped right out from underneath her, and down she went.

“Are you okay?” I rushed over in my hiking boots with the good-grip soles and stared down at her.

It looked like she’d slipped on a pile of wet leaves and landed right in the middle of a mud puddle left behind from the fall rains we’d been getting.

“Well, hell.” Mary Elizabeth let out a rare curse word, making me laugh. “What’s so funny?” She put her hands out for me to grab in order to help her up.

“You.” I couldn’t stop laughing. “You were so cute walking out of the bed-and-breakfast this morning, and I asked you to change your shoes.”

“Are you trying to say I deserve this?” There was some anger spewing from her eyes.

“No. I’m hoping you’re okay, because there isn’t any cell phone service out here.” I hadn’t told her that little fact because she liked to have her cell on her in case Dawn needed her for something about The Milkery.

I wanted her to enjoy the few hours it took to walk the trail and back. She’d been working so hard the last few months at the dairy farm, which included the cows, that I’d not been able to spend any more than a few minutes with her.

Right then, I was rethinking how we should spend our time together.

I reached my arms out, crossing them at the forearm so I could get better stability to pull her to her feet.

“Dear me.” She looked down at herself once she was on solid footing. “I’m a mess.”

We dropped hands, and she tried to brush off the dirt, which made it spread since it was mud.

“You’re not going to get that off by just a damp washcloth,” I teased, knowing that was how she’d handled me getting dirty when I was a child after I’d come in from playing outside.

“Are you mocking me now?” Her brows lowered. The lines around her mouth creased.

“No. I’m not. I’m just thinking we should turn back around and go on home.” I shrugged. “I’m hungry anyways.” I turned around to go back. “Besides, I forgot my camera, and the board asked me to take photos on the hike.”

I looked over my shoulder to see if she was coming.

“Oh no.” She’d taken a step and stopped. She immediately planted her hand on her lower back.

“What?” I walked the few feet back.

“I can’t move.” She groaned and rubbed her back with her hand. She was slightly bent at the waist. “This feels better. We can go.”

“You can’t walk all humped over with your face to the ground.” I put my hands on my knees. “We’ve got a few miles to walk back.”

“I can do it.” She took one step. “No, I can’t.”

“What if you sit down against the tree, and I go get some help?” I asked.

“We can just wait for a hiker to come by, and maybe they can go get help while you stay with me.” I could hear the fear of me leaving her side in her voice.

“I don’t think there’s going to be any hikers because the trail isn’t open yet, remember?” I jogged her memory about the reason why we were here.

“I guess I can put an arm around your shoulder, and you can let me gimp alongside you.” She wasn’t about to let me go get help.

I tried to reason with her. “I can go much quicker alone.”

“May-bell-ine Grant.” She said my entire name. “I will not stay here, deep in the Daniel Boone National Forest, alone. Don’t you know there are bears in here? Wildcats and savage raccoons?”

“Fine.” I adjusted my backpack to one shoulder so it wouldn’t be bulky for her arm to go around my neck. I reached around for the water bottle and quickly unzipped the front pocket to get her some ibuprofen.

I went to her side and butted my hip up against her hip. “Here. Take these.” I handed the pills to her free hand, giving her the water bottle to wash them down after she popped them in.

With a lot of grunting and groaning, she began to straighten, barely getting her arm around my neck.

“Okay. Small steps.”

She nodded and looked forward.

The trail was obviously not made for two people hiking side by side, but somehow, we did it, even when the rock formations got so narrow, we moved sideways together.

About every half mile, we’d stop and rest against a tree, because sitting was too hard, to take a little drink and eat a nibble of something we’d brought.

“How’s the pain?” I asked, knowing we still had a fair piece to go.

“Fair to middlin’.” She used an old southern saying to let me know she wasn’t so good but didn’t want to fully complain.

A few branches in the woods snapped, making her jittery as all get-out.

“Is that a bear?” she asked. “I didn’t bring my gun. I knew I should’ve brought my gun, but Dawn took it from me as I was walking out the door.”

“I’ve got bear spray.” I patted the dangling backpack, silently thanking Dawn Gentry for stopping Mary Elizabeth from bringing the gun.

Who knew what would’ve happened by now if she had brought it?

“I’m telling you, something big is out there. And hungry.” Her eyes widened.

Her adrenaline from the fear must’ve kicked in better than the ibuprofen. She pushed off that tree trunk and moved along the trail at a snail’s pace, without putting her arm around my neck.

A woman with long red hair, olive skin, and gray eyes jerked back after she practically ran into us as she emerged from the woods. “Whoa!”

“We don’t have nothing.” Mary Elizabeth put her arms up. “Do we, Mae? But we do have a backpack with food. You can have that.” Mary Elizabeth held out her hand. “Give it to her, Mae.” She winced in pain.

“I’m sorry for my mother’s behavior. She fell and hurt her back. She’s a wee bit on the irritable side.” Not that explaining to the hippy was going to make up for Mary Elizabeth’s poor judge of character, but at least it made me feel better trying.

“Mae West?” The woman was vaguely familiar.

“Yes.” I vaguely recognized her, but there were so many people who came in and out of Happy Trails Campground, the campground I owned, that I couldn’t remember them all.

“It’s me. Glenda Russel. Jay Russel’s daughter.” She jogged my memory.

“You’re pulling my leg.” Mary Elizabeth’s southern twang was even more so when she just couldn’t believe it was Glenda.

Truth of the matter, I would’ve never pegged the woman to be her either.

“I know it’s been a year or two, but I embraced the life.” She put her hands out. “But it’s really me.”

“Good Lord.” Mary Elizabeth put her hand to her head. “If this happens to you living out like this”—she pointed to Glenda—“you’ll be orphaned again.”

Chapter 2

It took me a few minutes of conversation to realize Glenda Russel really hadn’t changed much in personality, just lifestyle. Man, had she changed.

“After my dad died. . .” She didn’t need to go into too much detail about her father’s murder, because Mary Elizabeth and I already knew about it. “I knew I wanted to really explore the great outdoors.” She scoffed. “I guess I’m more like my mom than I realized.”

“Let’s hope not,” Mary Elizabeth muttered under her breath and shifted her weight a little bit. “You look good, honey.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes drew up Mary Elizabeth. “You don’t. What’s going on?”

“I fell on my keister and hurt my back.” She rubbed her lower back. “Mae and I cut our hike short, and she’s helping me back to the Old Train Station.”

“That’s like miles away.” Glenda turned away and stared down the path. “And curvy. Not to mention somewhat rocky.”

“It’s our only choice.” I forced a grin on my face to try to give Glenda the signal to hush.

“You have a choice, but I’m not sure you’d want to do it.” Glenda looked over at Mary Elizabeth like she had something up her sleeve but was unsure whether to say.

“Anything.” Mary Elizabeth groaned, her face turning a little more colorful with anticipation of what Glenda’s idea might be.

“I have a friend who might be able to help.” Glenda shrugged.

“Unless your friend is on this trail, I might as well wait and go see a doctor when I get back.” I could see the hope Glenda had given her falter.

“Just beyond the woods this way.” She pointed to where she’d come from.

“You mean you’re truly living your mom’s lifestyle?” I questioned, knowing her mother had lived the hippy lifestyle of camping and all sorts of crazy homeopathic things.

“Yeah.” Glenda snorted. “Who knew?” She shrugged and walked over to put Mary Elizabeth’s free arm around her shoulder. “Now, you can put all your weight on me and Mae.”

Mary Elizabeth started to hobble at first, and we practically carried her through the woods as Glenda and I got caught up.

“I’m now on the national park board, so when Coke put in a permit to have a new trail leaving the motel, I told them I’d walk the trail before it opens,” I explained to Glenda.

“She dragged me along with her,” Mary Elizabeth said.

“It’s the shoes. I told her to wear hiking boots, but she insisted on matching.” I didn’t want to argue with Mary Elizabeth, but it came naturally. Just like a mother-and-daughter relationship. “Look at her. A walking ad for a catalog.”

“You ain’t too big for your britches. Stop that sassing me.” Mary Elizabeth didn’t like it when I talked back, even at my age, and in front of company.

Glenda and I looked at each other over Mary Elizabeth’s head and smiled.

“I can’t believe the park board passed the trail.” Glenda was right. It was hard to get all the regulations checked off and have anything not natural happen in the forest. I did agree with all the rules imposed because it kept the Daniel Boone National Forest in its natural state.

“She had to go through some hoops by walking the trail, marking it off, and getting a good natural path to the cascades. She had a great selling point that it would give a good reason for tourists to pick the motel when the campground was busy so they’d have something to do.” I’d talked to Coke on several occasions about the idea, and she was right about the tourists using the motel for mainly weddings and various other family gatherings.

Coke had refinished the old barn on the property and made it into a hospitality venue. It was great, too, because brides and families were into the farm-style get-together, and you couldn’t get any more farm than the Old Train Station, which was a nonworking train station built on a farm years ago that Coke had transformed into a motel.

“She did open the stables up for riding lessons and really wants to get some sort of trails for the horses.” I shouldn’t have mentioned that and quickly clamped my mouth.

Sometimes I talked too much, and right now, it was one of those times.

“Horse trails?” she questioned. “I’d not heard that.”

Glenda was one of Coke’s silent partners in the Old Train Station, and I didn’t mean silent. I meant like mute. Glenda had left her father’s horse, Rosa, to Coke since her father had used the stables to train children to ride competitively. Glenda had come to town after he was murdered, and that was how I got to know her.

That was also how I found out she was Coke’s very mute partner, and Rosa was really her horse.

“But then again, I’ve not checked up on Coke in a long time. The reason I did pick this place to live is because it is so close to Rosa.” She stopped, making me stop, with Mary Elizabeth dangling between us.

I looked where she looked, noticing a clearing ahead of us.

There were several pop-up tents. One was bright blue, another sunshine yellow, a red stop sign–colored one, a dull purple that’d been sun bleached, and another with an orangish color that also looked to have been left out in the sun a long time.

“I go see Rosa every day.” She shifted her eyes back to me. “Which was where I was going when I ran into you.”

“This is where you’re living?” Mary Elizabeth straightened her back a smidgen and took in the makeshift campsite with fear in her eyes. “I. . .”

“Do you trust me?” Glenda asked. “Well, don’t answer that right now. Do you want to walk right on out of here by yourself?”

“Of course I do.” Mary Elizabeth smirked. “What kind of question is that?”

“Texas!” Glenda hollered to the group of hippies around the fire, strumming their guitars. “I need your assistance.”

A shirtless man, very tan from the sun and probably could’ve been advised to use sunscreen, gave a nod with his chin and got up. He set his guitar on the ground and took his sweet time walking across the clearing.

I wondered if it was the snug, cut-off shorts that were cutting off the circulation to the veins in his legs, or the muscles that looked pretty heavy to carry around, that were making him slow.

“Tex, this is a friend of mine, Mae, and her mom, Mary Elizabeth.” Glenda performed the introduction. “Mary Elizabeth slipped and fell on a trail. Her back seems to be out of whack. Do you think you can adjust it for her?”

“Oh no.” Mary Elizabeth wagged her finger. “I’m not letting anyone who is on that wacky tobaccy in who-knows-what state of mind think they can adjust anything of mine.”

“Whoa, little mama.” Tex put his hands out in front of him. “I’m a licensed chiropractor and know much about the trails, and camping can do a number on my friends. It’s my purpose to be here among nature to help my friends enjoy the oxygen.” Tex extended his arms to the sides and took a big, deep breath, letting it out slowly. I wanted to believe he was putting on a show, but Tex definitely was the real hippy deal.

“No sweat off me, little mama.” He turned around and meandered back toward the group.

“Let’s go.” Mary Elizabeth grabbed my hand and tried to take a step.

Glenda looked at me and shrugged. I rolled my eyes.

“Help me,” Mary Elizabeth demanded and tried to get her arm back up over my shoulder. “Fine. Fine.” She groaned, the pain radiating on her face. “I’ll let the hippy try it. I’m desperate to get out of here.”

“Texas!” Glenda put her fingers in the air to gesture him back over.

Tex lifted two fingers and stuck them in between his lips, whistling to the group. A couple of people got up and met him halfway. They discussed something I couldn’t hear but glanced our way, obviously saying something about us or, at the least, Mary Elizabeth.

They came over, and in one big swoop, the other two picked up Mary Elizabeth.

“I’m not gonna be taking none of your devil pills or smoking anything funny,” she warned them as they carted her off. “Do you hear me?”

Tex followed right along next to them.

“And do you think you can put a shirt on? It’s not fittin’ for a real doctor to be shirtless,” Mary Elizabeth demanded as they took her over to a table in the open field that looked like a chiropractic table. It had the hole in the middle and the adjustment pieces up near the shoulder area.

“That is, if you’re a real doctor!” Mary Elizabeth gave one last shout before the two people flipped her on the table.

Stunned at the situation and unable to fully understand what was going on, I stood there.

“Don’t worry.” Glenda nudged me. “Texas will fix her right on up. I guarantee if she ever has problems again, she’ll be begging you to bring her back here.”

“So you stay here all the time? This one spot?” I asked.

“Me and Tex.” She nodded. “Originally, I was going to roam after I got enough time with Rosa, but the old girl is part of my soul. I slip in there when no one is around and give her some timothy hay, carrots, loving. You know, pet-owner stuff.”

“Why do it so secretly?” I asked. “I’m sure Coke wouldn’t care.”

“It’s not that it’s secret. I just don’t want to explain my lifestyle to anyone. Besides, it’s kinda like my little secret with Rosa. Sometimes I do bring her out in the middle of the night, and we do go in the woods.” She smiled. “So when you mentioned Coke wanted to do some horse trails, I’ve already got them done for her.”

“I think you need to see Coke and get some sort of job doing what you love with who you love.” I followed her a little closer to the table where Mary Elizabeth was being worked on.

Tex continued to run his hands, bare chested and all, up along her lower back, every once in a while pushing a little more as he adjusted whatever part was necessary. Mary Elizabeth gave a few groans then a sigh of relief.

“Little mama, you’re good to go.” Tex took a step back and looked over his handiwork as Mary Elizabeth sat up.

In silence, we watched her ease off the table, move her head to the right and then the left, before she took her first step.

“Oh,” she said in a delighted tone. “Ah.” She took another step, and a smile grew across her face. “I feel better than this morning getting out of bed.” She hurried over to Tex and gave him a giant hug.

She must’ve felt really good because she’d never give a man a hug who was shirtless, much less one she didn’t know.

“What do I owe you?” she asked him.

“Another hug and we’ll call it good.” He winked, and they embraced again. “You come back and see me anytime, little mama.”

“You got it.” She did the gun gesture with her fingers.

“I told you.” Glenda winked and nudged me again, this time a little harder. Both of us laughed.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Mary Elizabeth high-stepped it past me. She was a lot spunkier than before. “We’ve got a car show to help Coke set up.”

“Car show?” Texas asked.

“Coke is hosting the car show at the Old Train Station. We told her we’d help her set up when we got back from the trail. I also have to give the trail the thumbs-up and write the report to turn in to the committee so the parks department gives her the go-ahead to open it and so the car-show folks can also take the opportunity to hike while here.” I left out how this was all a great marketing tool for Coke to bring in a lot of money for her so she could stockpile it for the winter, since winter was a slower time in Normal, though not for Happy Trails Campground, the place I owned and lived. I’d been able to establish activities for the tourists over the past couple of years. The campers I’d fixed up in the rentals and bungalows were booked for at least a year in advance.

“That means we’re going to get a lot of traffic up through here.” Glenda’s brows furrowed. She looked at Texas as if he had something to say.

They stood there, seemingly pondering what I’d just told them.

“All righty. I don’t mean to be rude, but we’ve got to go.” Mary Elizabeth had taken a couple of steps back to me and pulled on my shirt.

“Let me know if you need more help,” Texas called out as we disappeared back into the woods.

Chapter 3

The campground was full of new tourists. Some came with RVs and reserved a lot space, which were already parked and hooked in to the electric and water supplied in their vacation package. I was so happy Mother Nature had decided to show off with the red and purple leaves on the dogwoods and sumacs that lined the rear edges of the campground, along with the red hues of the sourwoods and sweet gum trees.

Off in the distance, the mountainside was painted with the orange and red leaves of the sugar maples and tall oaks, dotted by yellows and golds of the poplars and hickories. The gray clouds were nowhere to be seen.

“What a blessing.” I sighed and slowly drove down the road on the right side of the lake and pulled into the concrete pad next to my Class C RV, which was a small-style and drivable RV.

Once I became a resident of Normal, I knew I couldn’t drive it around town, especially since it was a gas guzzler, so I’d gone down to see Joel Grassel at Grassel’s garage and bought a little car off of him.

“Hiya, Mae!” Timmy, Ty Randal’s little brother, was standing in the middle of the road, throwing a football with Mr. Randal, Ty’s father.

They happened to be full-time RVers and rented from me yearly. Mainly, though, the campground was for tourists who liked to vacation in the Daniel Boone National Park.

I’d worked hard over the past couple of years to get Happy Trails to what it was today. There was a glassy lake in the middle of the campground with a small pier where people could fish and a beachy area for people to swim and lay out. There were also pedal boats they could use but not kayaks or canoes.

If my guests wanted to kayak or canoe, they would hike down Red Fox Trail and find my little kayaking and canoe business there. I’d even partnered with a local man, Alvin Deters, who also owned the Feed-N-Seed and was the bank president, to offer kayaking lessons. But they had to sign up and pay for those in advance.

It was a new business venture, and now that the main kayaking season was really over, we offered kayak tours that included a narrative of the foliage and history of the Daniel Boone National Forest. So far, it’d been a big hit.

In the campground, we did have a recreation room with video games, board games, a ping pong table, and a snack station.

“Hiya,” I greeted the young boy back. “I swear you’ve grown a couple of inches since last week.”

“I have. Ty has been giving me some protein shakes because he said I need to get more muscles since I’m trying out for the football team.” His excitement made me smile.

Mr. Randal was a good-looking older man with a full head of thick silver hair. Ty resembled his father, and I could picture Ty looking exactly like him when he was his father’s age.

“I have no doubt you’re going to make it and be a superstar.” I watched him for a few minutes as he continued to toss the football with his father. “How are you feeling?” I asked Mr. Randal.

“I’m doing great. I had my annual visit with the cardiologist, and he said I’m doing good.” He threw the ball back to Timmy. “Of course, Ty makes sure I’ve got a heart-healthy diet.”

He did look much better than the frail older gentleman I’d first met when I’d moved to Normal.

“I bet he does.” I fiddled with the keys until I found my little camper key. “Have a good day. It’s perfect weather to be out here.”

My little yellow camper van was a cozy home after the remodel I’d done. I was pretty proud of myself when it was all completed. With the help of YouTube DIY videos, I was able to redecorate by replacing the peeling-off wallpaper with shiplap and redo the floors as well as paint. The string lights I’d put up all over the place made it nice and homey. I’d even gotten chippy furniture from the secondhand shop in town to go along with the farmhouse boho-style theme I was aiming for.

But the thing that truly made it a home was my toy poodle, Fifi, who was eagerly waiting for me as soon as I opened the door.

“Hey, sweet girl.” I picked her up and snuggled her close to me, letting her give me the best kisses. “Do you want a treat?”

She wiggled and jerked out of my arms. There was a treat container on the counter of the small kitchen, and Fifi sat down at my feet, waiting patiently for me to hand her the treat.

“Here you go.” I gave her a couple so they would keep her occupied while I quickly jumped on my laptop to shoot Lloyd Hornbuckle, the president of the committee, my thoughts on the trail.

Of course, I was going to tell them how great the new trail would be to the economy and how lovely it was but leave out the part how I’d not actually made it to the cascades. Everything I’d written was true about the parts I’d seen. I did not include the part about seeing the bare-chested chiropractor who lived deep in the woods. That wouldn’t’ve gone over too well.

“You in there?” Dottie Swaggert hollered into the screen door of the camper.

“Come on in.” I really didn’t have to invite her in because she was already halfway through the door when I looked up.

“What on earth is taking you so long?” She’d been dying to get the Halloween decorations out of the storage unit. “We’ve got a long list of campers coming in this afternoon, and you’re in here lollygagging on that darn computer.” She shook her red head and rolled her eyes. “That technology stuff is going to kill us all.”

“That technology stuff is what pays your income.” Sometimes I had to remind Dottie how I paid her as my office manager.

“I reckon you’re right because we are filled up this week.” Dottie had been the manager of Happy Trails long before I moved here. She was a local as well, and she did live on the property in the first camper to the right, next to the storage units and across from the office.

She had perfect views of the entire campground and around the lake from her family room window, which made it even better for her to snoop, or as she’d say, “keep an eye on things.”

“I had to shoot off an email to Lloyd Hornbuckle about Coke’s new trail.” I shut the laptop down and got up.

“Oh yeah. How was that?” she asked and opened the screen door.

Fifi ran out past our feet and down the metal camper steps, darting off to smell the new scents around the campground. Fifi was good about staying around the open area of the campground and not going into the woods that surrounded Happy Trails. There were much bigger critters than her out there that would love to eat her as a snack. During the daylight hours, she was fine to run around, but at night, I put her on a leash.

“I’d made a mistake in asking Mary Elizabeth to go with me.” I didn’t worry about locking the camper up since I was right there. Not that many people were in the campground right now to worry.

It was Sunday, which was the first day of the week for new guests. The bungalows had to be cleaned, the camper lots had to be checked out to make sure all the hookups were good, the recreational room with all the snacks needed to be refilled, and the baskets we sold for various items had to be restocked.

Sundays were one of the busiest days of the week around here.

“Did she make it?” Dottie took the cigarette case out from the elastic of her pants and snapped open the top to get a cig.

“No. You’re not going to believe who we ran into on the trail.” I didn’t even wait for her to get her cigarette lit and ask. “Glenda Russel. And she’s a hippy now.”

“Arms in the air.” I lifted my arms as we walked next to the lake, going toward the storage units.

Dottie snugged the cigarette in the corner of her mouth and threw her hands in the air. I wasn’t sure if this old wives’ tale was true, but whenever we coughed around here, someone always yelled to throw your hands up.

Dottie was talented. She wasn’t about to let that smoke slip out of her mouth while she continued to cough up a lung. We did stop walking.

“Believe you me, her daddy is rolling over in his grave right now thinking she’s living the life of Paulette after she’d done what she’d done to him.” She gasped for air, finally taking the cigarette out of her mouth and nestling it in between her fingers while she took some deep breaths.

“Hey, you two.” Betts Hager had pulled up in her cleaning van and rolled down her window. Her long wavy brown hair was pulled up in a topknot with her bangs pushed over to the side. “What’s up?”

“Mae has finally decided to help me get out the Halloween decorations,” Dottie bemoaned, finally able to catch her breath.

“Dottie is coughing up a lung.” My brows rose.

“Is everyone cleared out?” Betts asked about the bungalows and the campers she cleaned for us after someone would leave. Most of her cleaning was done on Sunday after church, which told me it was about one o’clock.

“Yes. I think we have an early arrival for bungalow four,” I told her so she could get started on it. “And I think they asked for one of the wine baskets from the Red Barn.”

I offered add-ons to the rentals, like the baskets. Most people who traveled in campers or were experienced campers brought the necessary items they needed for the week, like toiletries. If they forgot them, we made up various baskets that included anything they needed. In this case, the guest had added on a wine basket that had wine, cheeses, crackers, and more.

Every item I used in the baskets was from local shops, and that was how I helped promote them. In turn, they helped promote the campground. It was a great way for the community to be involved with one another. Even if we were full, we had a list of other campgrounds we referred tourists to. It was a good thing to do and helped out the economy, a win-win situation for everyone.

“I was just telling Dottie how I took Mary Elizabeth to check out the new trail at the Old Train Station.”

“Oh yeah.” Betts started to laugh and put the van in gear because she knew this was going to be a good story to stick around for.

We’d taken Mary Elizabeth on a camping trip once, and it was awful. Needless to say, she never went on another camping trip again.

“You know Mary Elizabeth. Had to match from head to toe, and she wore these slippery-soled tennis shoes.” I shook my head and pulled the edges of my sweatshirt around my neck as the fall breeze whipped across the lake. A chill skated across my arms, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

“Slippery?” Dottie’s lips curled into an evil smile before she took a long drag.

“Yep. You know where this is going,” I told them and let out a sigh. “She slipped and hurt her lower back.”

“Oh my.” Betts had a look of concern. “Is she all right?” She put her hands up as if she were going to go in an all-out prayer. You couldn’t help but love Betts and her big heart. She was a former preacher’s wife and very active in the church. She was always taking some bus with her Bible-thumper group to prisons or anywhere they could go to spread the good word.

“Betts, listen here. Don’t be going and throwin’ all that prayin’ stuff on us. Mary Elizabeth knows better than to wear those shoes.” Not that Dottie didn’t believe in God. She believed you kept it to yourself, and it was between her and God, not her and the world.

Plus, Dottie was a tell-it-like-it-was woman.

“I just don’t get that woman.” Dottie was going to keep carrying on about it, but I interrupted.

“She’s fine now that we met the bare-chested chiropractor.” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing as I took in Betts’s and Dottie’s facial expressions. “Yep. Texas the hippy.”

“Wait.” Dottie bent down and snuffed her cigarette into the ground before putting the butt in her pants pocket. “I thought you said you ran into Glenda Russel.”

I nodded.

“You mean to tell me she and this naked chiropractor are playing Adam and Eve in the woods?” Dottie just had a way with words.

“I don’t know if they are together, but they do live in the woods near the Old Train Station because she likes to keep an eye out on Rosa.”

“After the life her mama led?” Betts shook her head in disbelief. “That is awful. And doesn’t she have all that money?”

“More money than Carter’s got liver pills.” Dottie referred to the Carter’s company who sold a ton of liver pills back in the day.

As a southerner, my mama and even Mary Elizabeth had several bottles of the pills in our medicine cabinets. I’m not sure when or how, but I clearly remembered Mary Elizabeth throwing them out when the doctor had told her to stop taking them because there was no proof they even worked. The saying stuck, just like most southern sayings.

“She helped me get Mary Elizabeth to their camp, where he literally had a real chiropractic table in the middle of the woods.” I put my hand in the air. “Hand to God.” It was another one of our sayings about how serious I was about the situation.

Betts laughed, making Dottie snort and me cackle.

“Only Mary Elizabeth.” Betts shook her head. “What about the trail?”

“I only finished half because we had to turn around, but it is beautiful, and I did tell the committee to pass it, though I didn’t tell them how I didn’t make it to the cascades.” I really did want to see the waterfalls.

“Why don’t we all get together one afternoon this week while the car show is going on?” Dottie made a great suggestion. “None of us will be busy.”

“And the Laundry Club just runs itself,” Betts agreed, as she was also the owner of the Laundry Club, the local laundromat and hangout for our friends.

“Yeah.” I leaned my head back and looked past Dottie’s shoulder so I could see who was driving up to the campground.

Happy Trails’s entrance from the main road was quite a distance from the actual campground. Guests had to drive up the gravel road in order to get to the site. Once here, there was pavement around the lake and a concrete pad for each camper lot. If they were in a car and wanted to tent camp, they had to drive past the lake and take the dirt road between Ty’s camper and Hank’s to get back to the wooded tent camping area. On the far side of the lake was where the bungalows were located.

Several mouths of trails that guests loved to hike were located along the edges of Happy Trails.

“Hank.” My heart pitter-pattered when I saw his black car pulling up near the office.

“You two are like teens.” Dottie snarled. “Looks like the decorating is going to be put on hold.”

“No, it’s not.” I knew she was thinking I was going to drop everything and go hang out with Hank. “He’s working.”

Hank was with Normal’s sheriff’s department as a detective. When I first moved to Normal, he did what they liked to call double-dipping. He worked as a National Park Ranger when he was off as a detective.

But with the increase in popularity of camping and hiking, there were a lot more illegal things going on that made his detective job busier, so he quit the ranger job.

“I’m going to get started.” Betts threw her van in drive. “Let me know when we want to go hiking this week. I’ll call the ladies.”

The ladies were the group of women who had become my group of friends. We were known as the Laundry Club because we would meet up at the laundromat to catch up, have book club, or practice our amateur sleuthing skills when there was some sort of illegal activity in our neck of the Daniel Boone National Forest.

Dottie and I made our way up to the office, which was across from the storage units, where Hank had parked and Fifi had found him and Chester, his dog that went to work with Hank. If he didn’t bring him with, though, I was more than happy to watch him. Chester and Fifi got along well, so it wasn’t a problem.

Chester had been Darnell Grassel’s hunting dog, but poor Darnell had passed away, and Hank had bonded with the dog, so Darnell’s brother, Joel, had let Hank keep Chester.

“Hey, big strong man.” Dottie was buttering Hank up. “We are glad you are here.” She made muscles with her arms. “Do you got time to help me and Mae pull out the Halloween decorations from the unit?”

He leaned down and kissed me after I walked over to him.

“She’s been dying to get the decorations out.” I couldn’t help but get lost in his green eyes and resisted the urge to run my fingers through his black hair.

“You’re not kidding anyone.” He took his finger and put it under my chin for me to look up at him. “You love decorating more than any other person I know.”

He was right. Fall was my favorite time of the year. I couldn’t exactly put my finger on why. Was it the chilly weather? The snuggly clothes? The smell of a good campfire in the cool breeze? The picture-perfect colorful background? Or the comfort food? Maybe it was all the happiness people seemed to expel that made me feel good. . .whatever it was, it put a light step into my heart, making me feel joyous.

“I’ll be more than happy to help.” Hank looked at Dottie. “You’re going to be happy with me.”

“Yeah, why?” Dottie eyeballed him like he was joking.

“I’ve got someone from the car show who wants to take a look at my old camper. He said he thinks he can fix it up. Which means I might be able to move back in it,” he said. “Yep. I knew you two would be happy.”

Hank had a camper here from years before I owned the campground, but he lived in a trailer on his parent’s farm when I moved here. They didn’t live in town until recently, and he decided he wanted to live off their property, giving his sister the trailer to live in. He moved into one of my newly renovated travel trailers I’d fixed up. I didn’t think he’d live here as long as he had, but Dottie had been on him about how he was taking income from us.

He did pay a lot fee, but Dottie didn’t like it for people to live here year-round.

“It’s not a trailer park,” she’d groan. And as employees, she figured it was okay for us to live here. I didn’t ever talk to her about it because she was grumpy. I couldn’t even begin to explain how she acted when I let my foster brother, Bobby Ray, move into one of the single-room bungalows.

That nearly sent her over the edge.

“Does that mean the purple people sleeper will be available for rent?” Dottie smacked her hands together. “We can get at least a thousand a week on that sucker.” Her face lit up. “With the bunkers and that king bed. Not to mention the large dinette.” She rubbed her hands together. “We can probably look into a few more upgrades around here.”

“Dang, Dottie.” Hank put his hands up. “I said he was going to look at it and let me know. It needs a lot of work.”

And his place did. It was a lesson I’d learned early after I took over Happy Trails. Campers were recreational vehicles that needed to be cared for as well as winterized. It took a lot of special care to keep the majority of our campers open for winter when most campgrounds around here shut down for the snowy months.

“I think we can hold off on making any big decisions about the purple people sleeper.” I did love the nickname Dottie gave it. It was a big purple travel trailer about thirty-three feet in length, which was pretty big. It did have a lot of room for a family and would bring in a lot of income, but I wasn’t about to kick Hank out.

The camper was special. Hank and I had many of our first romantic dinners in there while we’d kept our romance on the down low. Our history wasn’t all cheery. His granny, Agnes Swift, loved me, but his mother and sister were a different story while his father was indifferent.

I’d been married, divorced, and been accused of killing the man I’d divorced, so I was sure that didn’t play well into his mother’s head. Still, I’d let him live here, and we’d hole up in there watching television, eating, and canoodling.

“Fine. At least you can help with the boxes.” Dottie waved him over and crossed the pavement toward the storage unit.

Hank knew better than to give Dottie any lip, or she’d just stick him right back in his place.

Chester, Fifi, Hank, and I followed Dottie over to the storage units that were available to the guests but mainly used to store items for the seasonal hikers and campers who came back every year.

Dottie unlocked the dead bolt, and Hank lifted the door. Since Dottie had broken her hip earlier in the year, she was still a little tender from healing but had come a long way. She didn’t even need the walker or cane the physical therapist had given her.

“I’m gonna need that.” She walked into the unit and began pointing at various boxes she’d written on with a sharpie. “Oh, fog machine. Definitely need that one. And that one. Yes, those are the little pumpkins and spiderwebs.”

“Spiderwebs?” Hank pulled down the stacked boxes as Dottie touched, pointed, oohed and aahed. “We’ve got plenty of real spiderwebs out there.”

“You know what I mean.” She didn’t bother giving him the time of day and continued to point out the ones she needed.

Each box Hank took down, I picked up and carried to the outside part of the recreational center that was under a roof. It was an open area with picnic tables, which was nice for campers if it was raining and they wanted to eat outside. The inside of the building was where the game room was located as well as the bathroom with the showers and the laundry machines.

The showers were really nice, and I made sure we’d gotten those cleaned up when I first moved here. Even though all the campers did provide showers, and there was water hookup, those showers could be tight, and I had really good products that needed a lot more room.

“Whooooweee doggie.” Henry Bryan had pulled up next to the recreational center in an old-looking car and had the window rolled down. “I’m guessing I’m gonna be puttin’ all that junk up today?”

“I reckon we all are.” I pulled my head out of the box and wiped my forearm across my forehead to get the hair out of my eyes. “What on earth are you driving?”

“Hot dog, Henry!” Hank yelled. He was walking across the campground with three stacked boxes in his arms and Dottie barking something in his ears. She was trying to direct him where to put them, but he had his eyes set on Henry’s car. “1967 Buick Wildcat sport coupe. Man.” He put the boxes down. “I’ve not seen you in this in years. I figured you got rid of it.”

“You figured wrong.” Henry’s open-mouthed laugh echoed throughout the mountains and showed off his lack of teeth. When he got out, his scraggly hair had been wetted down to the side, and he actually had on something different than his usual overalls.

“Man oh man, looking fine.” Hank and Henry did some sort of guy handshake, making me roll my eyes and dive back into the box.

“I don’t know where you think you’re going in that getup,” Dottie said through a rush of cigarette smoke. She took another long draw. “But you’ve got work to do before your half-day off.”

“Don’t you be worrying about me gettin’ my work done. You ain’t my boss.” Henry didn’t like Dottie getting on him one bit.

“Well, smell me.” Dottie’s nose crinkled, and she shifted her attention to me. “We need the pumpkins to go on most of the haystacks Henry will place around the lake for extra seating, along with the cornstalks where we will put the scarecrows.”

“I know.” I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and pulled up my saved photos. “I have a picture from last year.” I had taken photos of the campground last year after she decorated to give to Abby Fawn since I considered her my social media strategist with her savvy hashtags and whatnots.

Dottie took a few minutes to look at them before a huge smile curled up the edges of her lips. “I reckon I’m pretty good at this.” She winked and ashed her cigarette before taking another puff.

“That you are.” I patted her on the back. “Ease up on Henry. He’s excited to have gotten his car out for the car show.”

She glanced over at Henry and Hank. They were walking around the blue car that meant nothing to me, but it was in great shape. While they talked cars, Dottie and I hurried around to the different parts of the lake, putting pumpkins and scarecrows where Henry would soon have the hay bales.

Fifi and Chester were enjoying the open lots that many campers would occupy soon. They ran, barked, chased squirrels, and even jumped in the lake after the ducks. Sometimes I swore Fifi thought she was a duck or they were one of her kind. She loved them so much, but me, not so much. With a chill in the air, I knew I’d have to give her a bath to not only get her fur back to white, but also because it would take a little longer for her to dry in the cold weather. She’d be shivering, and I couldn’t stand to see that.

But she and Chester were still having fun. Chester really loved going after the squirrels. He was a hunting dog in his former life, and when campers were here, the squirrels took a back seat to all the new smells the dogs would find from all the campers and new people. There were many guests who did bring their fur babies along, and boy, did the dogs love that.

“How’s it going?” I asked Betts when I finished adding a huge plastic spiders to a tree trunk outside of one of the bungalows.

“Great. I’ve got the bungalows cleaned and ready to go. I’ll finish the last two campers and then head into the office to get the baskets for you.” She looked at her watch. “I’m making good time. So are you.” She gestured to the campground that was truly becoming wrapped up in all the fall decorations.

Henry had put some of the potted orange chrysanthemums on the pier along with a couple of pumpkins. The tiki hut had been transformed by the attached scarecrows and the orange twinkle lights. Some of the light bulbs in the carriage lamps around the campground had been changed to orange and purple bulbs, keeping the rest white so our little campers didn’t get too spooked while vacationing here.

Henry had put hay bales next to each campfire ring in front of the lots, along with a small flag that had some sort of ghost or goblin on it. Hank was on the ladder, hanging up the spiderweb lights along the outside of the recreational building and the office.

It was all coming together. The colorful red, brown, and orange leaves that had fallen off the trees had covered much of the paths, making the feel of autumn spring to life around us. It was a spectacular time of the year, and I was very excited the car show was in Normal this year.

“I’m guessing the theme for tonight is Halloween?” Betts asked. She picked up the bucket of cleaning supplies, and I grabbed the vacuum cleaner she used for the campers, and we walked to her next cleaning job.

“It’s Fall in the Forest.” I liked the ring to the theme for the monthly gathering.

Every month, I hosted a gathering for the community and the campers. It was a great time, with music from Ethel Biddle’s band, Blue Ethel, and the Adolescent Farm Boys, who were decades from actually being adolescents. There were local vendors here as well as food. It’d really grown since the first one I had, and it was fun for the community to get together once a month.

It was also a win for the guests. They got to experience what it was truly like living in a community such as Normal. It was what I loved most about living here. The people. Everyone was good at heart and sometimes could be a tad bit gossipy, but it was all in good nature. When it came time to someone in need, we all stepped up and took care of each other.

“You crack me up.” Betts shook her head and opened the door of the camper. “I’ll be up at the office soon.”

I set the vacuum down on the outside area rug. I placed an outdoor rug in front of every camper. It helped keep the outside stuff from being tracked in by their shoes, and they could take off their shoes before they entered the camper. It was much cleaner. Campers got dirty fast, and anything I could do to help them feel cozy and at home, I did.

“Fifi!” I hollered. I heard gravel spitting up underneath some car tires before I saw two cars circle up to the office and stop. One was a mini convertible Mercedes, and the other looked like an old Lincoln Town Car.

Fifi came running to the guests, not me. Of course Chester was right by Hank’s side and didn’t budge when he noticed a man got out of one car and a woman out the other.

“Hi there,” I greeted them and extended a hand. “I’m Mae. Do you have a reservation?”

I only asked because we were booked well into the next year. It was one thing some campers didn’t realize when they first started out. Campgrounds filled up fast, and if there was a cancellation, that was taken in seconds.

“We do.” The woman walked up and introduced herself. “I’m Lonie, and this is my husband, Wendell. We are the Hollidays, staying in one of the bungalows.”

“You take care of this, honey.” Wendell patted Lonie’s arm. “I’ll be back.”

Wendell had his eyes set on Henry’s car, and Henry saw it. Henry jumped in the golf cart and zoomed over to his car.

“Car show?” I asked and recognized their name from the list of reservations Dottie had put on my desk.

“Yes.” The woman groaned. She touched her sleek, gray, and polished coif of hair that made me think she wasn’t used to any sort of being around a campground.

She reminded me of the older women I hung out with when I was married to Paul and spent summers in our Hamptons home.

“That’s why we have two cars. One for him to drive to the show and one for me to drive to go shopping. Or if I get too bored, drive back home.” She lifted her slim finger and pointed to her car.

I laughed. “Follow me.” I turned and headed to the office, where I offered her a cup of coffee from the small coffee bar Dottie and I kept up with fresh coffee.

While Lonie fixed herself a cup, I sat down at my desk and looked through the files Dottie had put there until I found the Hollidays’ file with their leasing contract for the week.

“It looks like you already prepaid, and you also got a basket from The Cookie Crumble.” Thinking about the local bakery made my mouth water. I loved all the sweet pastries from there. “Let me grab that for you while you sign your contract.”

I took the contract out of the folder and placed it on the desk space in front of her once she sat down, coffee in hand. I put a pen on top so she could sign.

While she read over the contract and signed, I walked over to the closet where I kept the baskets and ran my finger along the shelf until I found the one with her name on it.

When a basket had food in it, those were made fresh and delivered the morning the guests arrived.

“Here you go.” I carried the basket over to the desk, pleased when I saw Lonie’s eyes brighten.

“Wendell will have all of these cookies eaten by tonight.” She shook her head. “He made me buy all the ingredients for s’mores before we left home. He’s so excited to be staying here.”

“I’m glad Coke Ogden was able to get the car show in town this year.” From what I’d gathered, the car show was held in different places, and towns had to put bids in to have it hosted. “And if you do get bored at the car show, there is a really cool trail on the Old Train Station property that reaches the cascades. It’s something you don’t want to miss.”

I plucked one of the brochures Coke had already created in case the trail did get passed before the car show, which I was sure it would be good by tomorrow since I’d sent my email to Lloyd.

“That’s cool. I did tell Wendell how I wanted to take hikes. Is it safe?” she asked.

“All trails are dangerous. But only because safety is truly up to the hiker. You need to make sure you have hiking shoes or good grip soles because the ground and leaf cover are slippery this time of the year.”

I thought back to my morning with Mary Elizabeth but kept that little tale to myself.

“In each bungalow are some walking sticks, bear horn, bug spray, and things you might want to take on your hike. Not that you’d encounter any of that while here, but it’s good to be prepared.” I took the signed contract, put it back in its folder, and laid it on Dottie’s desk for her to finish inputting it into the computer.

I picked up a map of the campground that every guest got so they knew the lay of the land and circled their bungalow.

“There’s a notebook in your bungalow on the table next to the fireplace with instructions for hiking if you’re not familiar. Each trail is rated on how hard and how long the hike is. The trail I was talking about at the Old Train Station is a little long, but it’s not hard to walk. You truly do want to go see the cascades if you get a chance.” I handed her the map.

“Thank you.” She glanced at the map before she stood up and took the key from me.

“You’re in bungalow four. Henry is our maintenance man. His number is on the refrigerator along with Dottie Swaggert and my number. The three of us live here, so you will see us all the time, and holler if you need anything.” I handed her the flyer for tonight’s themed party.

Lonie took the flyer and thanked me for all my useful information before I led her to the door.

“I’m sorry.” Henry was walking in as we were stepping out. “I’ll just be a minute. I’m going to call about getting the security cameras fixed, so do you care who I call?”

“No.” I held the door and waved goodbye to Lonie. “Anyone is fine. We just need them up and running again.”

Henry headed back out of the office, and I moseyed over to the window.

I popped open the blinds to view Wendell, Henry, and Hank. Henry had already made it back over to the men. All three looked very entertained, most likely talking about cars.

“Which one is that?” Dottie asked after she entered the office with Fifi following along behind her. Dottie and Fifi went to Dottie’s desk, where Fifi patiently awaited the treat Dottie handed her.

“The Hollidays.” I couldn’t help but notice that Lonie drove right past the men without telling Wendell where the bungalow was located, thinking it was strange how she just left him to figure out where to go, though he could ask, and maybe I was assuming something of their relationship that wasn’t true.

“What?” Dottie asked after she gave Fifi another treat. She positioned herself behind me and peered out the blinds.

“They seem odd.” It was all I said that made Dottie go off on an hour-long tangent about car-show people.

Chapter 4

After the Hollidays checked in, there was a steady stream of campers pulling in and getting all their things hooked up. Henry had a system, and he was finished with them in no time. Of course all of the car people took a look at Henry’s old car, which must’ve been considered in tip-top shape because it was all I heard when walking around the campground, reminding everyone the food was all set up at the recreation center, and the music was about to start.

Fifi and Chester had caught up with Rosco, Ethel Biddle’s pug, who had been the father of Fifi’s babies. Yep. That’d happened when I wasn’t paying much attention to a very fertile Fifi during one of the monthly parties. It all turned out fine in the end, but I still think Fifi was in love with the pug.

“There’s a lot of people here.” Abby Fawn had her long brown hair pulled up in her usual ponytail and her phone in her hand. “Hashtag Happy Trails Campground is the place to be if you’re in hashtag Normal Kentucky for the hashtag car show.” She talked as she typed on her social media accounts.

Abby, along with Betts and Queenie French, another one of our friends, were sitting around the fire ring in front of my camper for the party.

“You know, you should let me host a Jazzercise class for your guests.” Queenie French tipped the chair up on its hind legs, slightly rocking back and forth. She fit right in with the Halloween decorations with her orange silky leggings and baggy black sweatshirt and black headband around her short blond hair. The fanny pack around her waist made her seem like she was dressed up as an old fitness instructor when, in reality, it was her real job, and she always looked this way.

Queenie was a widow and in her sixties. She was also the president of the local Historical Society.

Almost everyone had two jobs around here to help make ends meet. Betts had her laundromat and cleaning service. Queenie had her Jazzercise franchise along with the Historical Society to keep her busy. Abby was the local librarian and Tupperware rep.

All of us ate good barbeque-chicken sandwiches from the Normal Diner, accompanied by coleslaw and cowboy beans. It was delicious.

There were a few campers who trailered in their car for the car show behind their Class C campers. The guests were up and about, admiring each other’s cars and talking. It was perfect all night. The sky had opened up with all the stars that the eye could see. The moon was not full, but it was large and reflected on the lake. Every once in a while, the night breeze would skitter across the glass water, making it ripple to life.

The laughter of the children bounced off the mountains and was in tune with the twangy bluegrass music coming from the band. Everything was as it should be.

“Excuse me while I go see Lonie.” I pointed over to the bungalows where I saw her near her fire by herself.

She gave me a warm, friendly smile when she saw me walking toward her.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Sit.” She invited me to sit on the bale of hay next to her, and I did. “I’m good. The widow car-show wife is how I see myself.”

“I noticed most of the campers are just men.” I looked around.

“Sometimes the wives come, and sometimes they don’t. When the show is in a rural place like this and not much to do, they choose to stay home, but Wendell insists I come.” She looked over her shoulder when a young man passed by. I recognized the man as Hoss Asher, the guest staying in the red-and-white tear-drop camper across the lake from me. He had on a T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and was a little tight for my taste. He had short spiky hair and average height with a muscular build.

“Is Wendell around?” he asked Lonie.

“Nope, and he’s not going to sell you the car, so don’t start in on him.” She had a stern tone to her voice.

“We’ll see about that.” He left with laughter in his voice.

“Yeah, we will.” She moved her eyes back to the fire. The shadow of the flickering flames leapt across her face.

“I guess car people are serious about their cars,” I half joked, hoping to get her to elaborate on what she and Hoss were talking about, but she didn’t do anything but nod her head. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“I did. It’s really nice out here. I did try to get a room at the Old Train Station, but they were booked.” She made it sound like she didn’t want to be here.

“Well, if you need anything, let me know.” I got up because she just didn’t seem like she was in a good mood, and I’d seen Hank anyways, so it was a good time to leave.

All the campers and bungalows were full, as well as the open lots. There were a few tent campers who also had a hard time getting a room at either the Old Train Station or The Milkery Bed-and-Breakfast. Instead of staying in another town in the national park, they’d decided to tent camp. It wasn’t really a bad gig. They had all the amenities the other campers here at Happy Trails had, so they seemed to be happy.

Everyone seemed to be happy, except for Lonie. Even Wendell was having a good time until I saw Hoss walk up to him and take him off to the side.

“What are you gawking at?” Dottie asked.

“Those two.” I used my chin to nod over to Wendell and Hoss. “There’s something going on with them.”

“This is the second time I’ve seen them in deep conversation.” Dottie didn’t elaborate too much because the Laundry Club gals had found us. They dragged us over to the plywood dance floor Henry had created in front of the stage so we could dance all night long if we wanted to.

Chapter 5

It was a perfect night to sleep with the windows open until I heard some rustling outside. It was probably a middle-of-the-nighttime critter. I still wanted to make sure, which meant that, with a whole new group of campers and a few first-timers, I had to make sure everyone was safe and sound. I didn’t want any campers to get hurt in case it was one of them, so I rolled out of bed and tugged on my sweatpants. Fifi didn’t bother getting up.

I’d ended up giving her a quick bath after cleaning up when the band stopped for the night. To get her to dry faster, I used the hairdryer on her, which she hated, so her fighting with me took it out of her, and she was tired.

Tumbling out of the small bedroom and taking the few steps past the bathroom, I flipped the light on above my head and then flipped the switch next to the door to turn on the small light outside of the RV, just in case that would scare a critter away.

With my ears on high alert, I stood still for a second to see if I heard any noise. I did, which meant my tactics for scaring anything off with lights obviously didn’t work.

I kept a pair of slip-on boots next to the door of the RV. Not only did the boots make for a quick and easy slip-on, which was good for emergencies, but I kept them inside because I’d learned the hard way that if you leave your boots outside of the camper, little critters like snakes or mice like to get in there and sleep.

The memory of me shoving my foot into my boot before I turned it upside down to see why it wasn’t fitting before the snake slithered out still sent chills up my spine.

I grabbed the RV keys off the hook and tucked them into the sweatpants pocket before I grabbed the small air horn, mini flashlight, and pepper spray out of the kitchen drawer. Darkness brought everything out. . .even the crazies. It was always good to be well armed.

“Psst, psst.” The hiss of someone trying to catch my attention made me look to my left, up to the front of the campground. I pushed the button on the end of the flashlight and shined it. The pink rollers were an undeniable characteristic for Dottie Swaggert. “Did you hear all that rumbling? Move that darn thing from my eyes.” She covered her face with one hand and swatted the other one at me.

“I did hear it. I was worried it was a critter.” I turned off the light and met her halfway. “Did you see anything?”

All of a sudden, behind me across the lake, the lights of a car flipped on and roared away. We watched as the car traveled at high speed on the opposite side of the lake, driving out of the campground before our attention was stolen by a shadowy figure who darted between two of the campers and appeared to be running toward the woods.

“What on earth was that?” I questioned.

“More like who on earth was that.” Dottie did make a point. Both of us shifted our attention to where the ruckus had seemed to start, the bungalows. “Let’s go.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because that was weird, Mae West.” Dottie meant business, though it was hard to take her seriously in the hot-pink rollers, the see-through robe trimmed in pink feathers, and the slip-on clear slippers with a small heel and the same pink feathers glued on the top.

“You look like you’re going to the Playboy Mansion or something.” I tried not to laugh, but I did. “Look at those heels. And you’re going to catch a cold out here.”

“I take my sleeping very seriously at my age.” She shimmied her shoulders and tugged the robe up around her ears. “Cold air is good for the skin.”

Was that a lie? I couldn’t see her eyes clearly in the darkness to know if she was pulling one over on me.

A bloodcurdling scream came from one of the bungalows. I took off running, leaving Dottie in the dust. The sound of her plastic heels echoed in the dark night, giving the screamer an eerie-sounding acoustic drum. I fumbled with my flashlight and flipped it on to light my path so I wouldn’t fall.

Quickly, I went from bungalow to bungalow, following the call for help until I noticed bungalow four’s door was knocked in.

“Mrs. Holliday?” Cautiously, I pushed the door open with the toe of my boot and shined the light inside.

“What is it?” Dottie stood beside me, the plastic slippers in her hands, her breathing heavy.

“I think Mr. Holliday is dead.” I shined the light on Lonie Holliday.

The hem of her long black satin nightgown flapped in the fall breeze as she stood over her husband with a gun in her hand.

Chapter 6

“Let’s go over this again.” Hank Sharp talked very calmly to Lonie Holliday in Happy Trails Campground office. He sat at my desk, and she sat in one of the chairs while Dottie continued to fill up the poor lady’s coffee.

Lonie would take a sip. Dottie would refill it.

“I think she’s fine.” Irritated, Hank put his hand up to Dottie. “Why don’t you go outside and see if the sheriff needs anything from you?”

Dottie’s face scrunched up like she’d just eaten a pickle before she glowered at him and darted out the door. Some of the feathers found their way to freedom from her robe and floated to the floor.

“Wendell had gone to the Old Train Station to make sure his car was delivered. He has it all hauled in because he makes a big to-do about the old thing. He wanted to make sure the car was under a tent due to all the rain you’ve been getting here.” Blue and red lights rotated outside of the window, making circles on the wall inside, leaving us with the anxious thoughts of what was happening in the outside world beyond the safety of the office walls. “He has banners, tables, awards, trophies, brochures, and so many things he puts out for these car shows. I stayed back at the bungalow and read my book. I fell asleep, and I heard some sort of gurgling coming from the family room of the bungalow. I was scared it was an animal that’d gotten in, but when I felt the side of the bed and Wendell hadn’t even ruffled the sheets, I got up and found him on the floor.” She took a hard swallow. “That’s when I saw him on the floor with the blood coming out of his back. I saw the gun on the floor next to him, and I grabbed it without even realizing what I’d done.” Her nostrils flared, her eyes tearing, when she looked up with a fearful gaze.

“You don’t think I killed him, do you?” She gasped.

“No. No,” Hank assured her. “We are going to get the video footage from the campground. In the meantime, you sit here and drink your coffee while I go see if there’s any more news.” He took a piece of paper from my desk and placed it in front of her. He laid a pen on top of the paper.

“If you remember anything while I’m gone, please write it down.” Hank smiled. “Also, here is my card.” He took his wallet out of his pajama pants and retrieved one of his detective cards to hand to her. “Call me night or day. Or you can come knock on the door of my camper if I’m here.”

“Thank you.” The blanket I’d put around her shoulders while we’d waited for Hank moved up and down, her breaths heaving in and out. Her eyes darted back and forth as if she were trying to sort things out.

“Take your time.” Hank was so good with her. “I know this is really hard, but if you can remember anything about anyone who would want to hurt your husband, it would be helpful. Or if you can remember hearing anything when you were asleep, write it down.”

Hank got up and motioned for me to follow him outside.

“I’m going to get on some clothes, but for now, let’s just let her have a moment of peace. When someone is traumatized, it’s hard for them to really recall anything. Over time, they will start to remember bits and pieces until they finally have some sort of real evidence as to why someone would commit a crime.” Hank didn’t necessarily seem to be talking to me but at me like he was rationing out his own thoughts. He muttered a few things I didn’t hear, but I let him keep rambling.

He was the expert.

“Dottie and I both heard something.” I’d yet to have the opportunity to tell Hank why I was there.

“You didn’t hear the scream and then go running?” he asked. The darkness of the night was now a dull gray. Sunrise was on the horizon.

“No. I had my windows open, and I’d heard some rustling around or thought that’s what I heard.” I sifted through my memories, but it was foggy. “I was dead asleep, but it was loud enough to wake me.” I told him how I thought it might be some sort of critter, so I’d armed myself with things to scare it away. “When I went outside, Dottie was coming down from her camper. She said she heard it all the way up her way.”

“It must’ve been something really loud or something that’d started up at her camper and made it down to yours or vice versa.” He made no sense.

“So you mean something was going on up her way, like an argument or something, then they walked or drove.” I gasped.

“What?” Hank stopped shy of my camper. The orange glow of my outside RV light shadowed his face.

“There was a car that drove off, and it came from the bungalows.” I snapped my finger. “And someone had run between the little red-and-white teardrop camper and the purple people camper.” It was the only way I could describe it.

“I’m going to get dressed. You get dressed, and we will grab the security footage.” Hank hustled a couple of steps toward his camper.

“I don’t have the security set up.” I gnawed on my lip. “There’s something wrong with it, and I’ve got to call in to the service department now.”

“Aw, Mae.” Hank hung his head. He made my stomach lurch, and not in a good way.

“I’m sorry. It just happened, and I can’t help it if everything in this campground needs repairing.” This was going to be a blow to Hank’s case.

“What kind of car? License?” He peppered me with questions.

“It was too dark to see the car. Maybe blue or red?” I shrugged, knowing it was just too dark to guess. “License? We didn’t even bother watching after we’d seen someone running into the woods. That’s when Lonie screamed.” I snapped my fingers. “I think there was a butterfly on the license plate.”

“Butterfly? You can remember a butterfly but not any sort of numbers? I could’ve gotten an APB out on the car if you’d gotten. . .” I guessed he decided not to play the what-if game, knowing I didn’t get the information. “Now it’s back to good old detective work,” he said and let out an extremely long sigh of unhappiness. “I’m going to get dressed.” He ran his hand through his dark hair then pointed to me. “You and Dottie are going to need to either give a statement this morning or come down to the department.”

“I know I didn’t do what you needed me to do to help figure out who murdered Wendell, but I also have to come to my own defense and tell you that I didn’t pay too much attention to the car because I heard the scream. People hike in and out of here at all hours of the night, but the running away really bugged me.” I was trying to give Hank anything to help him in the early stages of the investigation.

“Just give your statement and let me handle it.” He shook his head and walked off toward his camper.

There was no way I wanted to disappoint Hank. I wanted to try to help as much as I could.

When I opened the door of the camper, Fifi was dancing around. I grabbed the leash next to the door and clipped it on her collar.

“I’ve got to keep you on a leash,” I told her as though she was bothered by not having her usual morning run around. “A lot of people are rummaging around.”

I also took the opportunity to flip on my coffee maker since it was too early for the timer to have gone off.

Fifi didn’t mind. She sniffed all around while I searched to spot who was in the campground. Though I hated to see the coroner truck, I was glad that Colonel Holz was on this case. Sheriff Jerry Truman’s truck was here, though I’d not seen him. There was a flurry of flashlights in and around the woods surrounding Happy Trails from the deputies looking for clues. The bungalow was roped off with police tape.

I would make sure to get Lonie a new place to stay until it was cleared for her to go home. Who knew when Hank would allow that?

“What’s going on?” Bobby Ray had wandered over from his bungalow. He had on a pair of his blue zip-up overalls he wore to work at the garage. Though it was clean, there were stains all over it, making him look a little on the dirty side. He had a pair of boots tied together and thrown over his shoulder. “Don’t tell me another murder,” he joked until he saw my face. “Oh no. Really?”

“Yeah. Bungalow four.” I shook my head, wondering how this was going to affect business. “Did you hear anything?”

“Nah, slept like a baby until I heard someone walking around the outside of my bedroom.” He lifted his arms above his head, stretching right and then left. His back made a cracking sound. “I’ve got to get ready for work. Call me when you hear something.”

“You’re not off?” I questioned, thinking Monday was his day off.

“The gas station is really busy with this car show, so Joel said he needed all hands on deck if we could.” Bobby Ray was my foster brother, but I loved him like a blood brother.

He was an excellent mechanic, and he had found me in Normal after I’d spent years trying to escape the life we’d grown up in. Not that Mary Elizabeth was a bad foster mother—much the opposite—it was just that I’d let myself have the woe-is-me mentality that didn’t serve anyone. But after years of being gone and not communicating with Bobby Ray, he’d found me through an interview I’d done with the National Parks Magazine. Since he was staying and needed a job, my good friend and local gas station owner, Joel Grassel, was more than happy to give Bobby Ray a chance.

In fact, Bobby Ray was twice as smart and twice as fast when it came to mechanical things.

“I don’t mind because I get to go to the car show after.” He smiled.

“Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” I asked and smelled the freshly brewed coffee coming from my camper.

“Heck yeah.” He tugged off his baseball hat and scratched the bald spot on his head. Bobby Ray had some loose curly hair around the edges of his head, which hung out of the ball cap, but he truly was going bald.

“You know you should just go down to Cute-icles and let Helen Pyle cut that stuff off,” I said over my shoulder when Fifi and I went inside to fetch the coffee.

Bobby Ray mumbled under his breath, which I was sure was something about minding my own business, but he would look much better with that stuff chopped off.

Granted, in our younger days, he had really nice hair, but time had not been good to him in that respect. I was his sister, and he needed to know, especially if I was ever going to get a sister-in-law. Not like Hank’s sister, Ellis. I meant someone that I could go with to get our nails done together, shopping, like girl days and stuff. There was no way I could do that with Ellis.

“Here you go.” I dumped a little bit of kibble in Fifi’s bowl for her breakfast and got a couple cups of coffee. “I need a sister-in-law to buddy up with.”

“Ellis would make a fine one.” Bobby Ray’s southern drawl escaped his lips, sending the coffee’s steam up around his face before he took a drink.

“Did I miss anything?” I asked and decided to drop the subject because Ellis was one I didn’t want to talk about.

“Nah. They took the body out, and Hank let Chester out. I guess he was having him track a smell.”

“Chester is good at that.” I glanced across the lake where I’d told Hank I’d seen someone running away. Hank and Jerry were standing in the street, and I could hear Chester’s hunting bark. It sounded like he was deep in the woods.

“Maybe they found something,” Bobby Ray mentioned after Hank and Jerry took off in Chester’s direction.

“Let’s hope so. In the meantime, I guess I better get ready and go up to the office. Hank left the victim’s wife there. She’s pretty shaken up.” I took a few more sips of coffee and looked around. Bobby Ray took his sweet time walking back toward the bungalow.

The gray tint to the day had lifted, and the pink hue of the sunrise was rising over the mountains. The birds chirping was a sure sign the sun would be out soon. Even the squirrels had gotten a jump on things. They were scurrying around and digging up their nuts like we were going to take them.

It seemed every single guest staying in the campground was up and milling around. The dew on the tips of the grass sparkled as the rising sun hit the blades just right. The colors of the trees were so vibrant in the morning as they’d gotten a good drink from the wet weather. This would’ve been a perfect fall morning if it weren’t for the murder.

“What’s happening?” Ty Randal walked up. “Got any more coffee?”

“Murder,” I said casually. “Inside. You know where it is,” I told him and watched Hoss Asher, one of the guests, walk over and talk to Bobby Ray. Bobby Ray took the boots off his shoulder and handed them to Hoss.

What I remembered at Hoss’s registration was he ordered a basket from the Red Barn restaurant with a case of their specialty beer.

Ty headed inside, not even questioning the murder part. I had to chuckle. With Normal being in a national park, it was easy to commit a crime and cover it up. Sometimes those crimes came to light. In this case, someone wanted Wendell Holliday dead, and they didn’t care who saw them. As I sat here with the coffee filling my body, my mind came to life, and the questions I had about the murder rolled around in my head.

I wasn’t about to ask Hank or even begin to tell him my thoughts. It was just thoughts, but thoughts did become things, and things made me want to snoop. Who on earth came to Normal to kill Wendell Holliday? And what gave them the right to do it in my campground? Why did they kill him? For what?

I headed back up to the office to check on Lonie and see if she needed anything. She was still huddled in the blanket with her eyes staring at the wall behind my desk. The coffee cup I’d put in front of her hadn’t been touched, and it had gone cold.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“I need a shower.” She looked up at me with sad eyes. “I guess I need to see if I can at least get some clothes.”

“It might be a while, but you can have some of the apparel we have here.” I walked over to the closet and took out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that sort of matched. They were at least in the red family, a slight orange, with the Happy Trails Campground logo on them.

I tried not to chuckle, thinking back to when I’d ordered these a few years ago. Dottie had told me campers loved to purchase merchandise from areas they visited. Back then I thought Dottie’s idea to sell items with the Happy Trails Campground logo was nuts. Years later, I live in the logoed sweatshirts.

“I know they aren’t as fancy as what you’re probably used to, but I think. . .” I held them out.

“These will be fine,” she said before she let me finish my sentence.

“We have a communal shower if you want to use that.” I went back to the closet and took out one of the shower baskets sponsored by Helen Pyle down at Cute-icles, our version of a spa here in Normal. “Or you can use my shower in my camper.”

“Can I?” Her voice jumped up a little as if she were excited about it.

“Yes, but be warned that the shower in my camper compared to the bungalow shower or even the communal shower is probably half if not seventy-five percent smaller.” The only thing I’d done to the tiny bathroom in the camper during renovation was paint the cabinet white, hang a couple of wire baskets on the wall behind the toilet to hold my towels, and covered the dingy walls with shiplap wallpaper.

I didn’t bother ripping out the bathroom because that had required a plumber, and no amount of me watching a YouTube video on how to do that was going to get the job done.

“I don’t care. I just don’t want to be alone.” She blinked with a thin smile. “I just don’t know what to do here.”

“I don’t think you need to figure it all out. Maybe just get a shower.” I wasn’t sure what it was about a good, hot shower, but I always did feel better standing under it. “I’m not saying a shower will make you feel better, but it might clear your mind so you can help Hank with some details.”

“Sounds good.” She stood up and curled the edges of the blanket around her neck. “Can we go now?”

“Of course.” I walked over to the door and left the coffee, figuring I’d just make her a cup when we got to the camper. “I have to warn you that Fifi might jump up and expect some pats.”

“That’s just fine with me.” Her eyes softened as a little giggle escaped her. “I might need little dog kisses to make me feel better.”

“She’s got plenty of those to give out.” I sucked in a deep breath and held the door for her.

The silence between us was cut like a sharp knife as the police cars continued to drive past us on the way out of the campground. The bright police line around the perimeter of the bungalow was like a large billboard reminder of what had happened a few hours ago.

I unlocked then opened the camper door. Fifi jumped off the small sofa and waited for us to get inside before she yelped for attention.

Lonie bent down, placing the spa basket with soaps and shampoo on the floor, and let Fifi sniff her before Fifi gave her approval with a lot of those kisses Lonie said she’d welcome.

“This is very charming.” Lonie looked around the camper. “Wendell would’ve loved this.”

“It has been a lot of work.” I squeezed past her and opened the kitchen cabinet where the coffee and filters were. “I do love it though.” I surveyed the area, the twinkling lights drawing my attention, realizing how romantic I’d made it all look, and actually felt bad bringing her here. “I’ll make some coffee. The shower is right back there. Towels are in the wire baskets on the wall.” I pointed to the basket in her grip. “You should have everything you need in there, but if not, I’ve got plenty of stuff. You can root through the mirror cabinet.”

“Thank you, Mae. I know taking care of a woman whose husband has just been murdered wasn’t on the contract, but do know that I am grateful.” Her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head when I walked toward her to give her a hug and quickly turned to go where I’d pointed out the bathroom.

Fifi stood outside the bathroom door, scratching on it a few times, probably wondering why the door was shut since I never shut it when taking a shower. No matter how many treats or bribes I tried to give my nosey pup, she didn’t move from the door.

“Mae.” Lonie said my name and popped her head out of the bathroom. She had the clothes on and a towel in her hand, massaging it along her wet hair. “Did you see any keys on the table in the bungalow?”

“Keys?” I asked for clarification.

“Yes. When I was in the shower, I remembered Wendell had put the spare set of keys for his roadster on the table in the bungalow. I don’t recall seeing them when Hank took me out of the bungalow.” She blinked a few times as if she were trying to jog her memory.

“I didn’t look so close, but I can text Hank really fast.” I smiled and took my phone out of my pocket, quickly texting Hank.

Lonie seemed fine with my suggestion because she went back into the bathroom, where the sound of the hair dryer had turned on. The coffee and fresh soap made the camper smell so good. There was a slight fall breeze flowing through the windows.

“Lonie, Hank said they didn’t find any keys,” I told her after I heard the hair dryer turn off. “He said that he’d like to talk to you about that, if you don’t mind coming down to the station for an official statement when you feel up to it.”

“Can you do this afternoon after the first day of the car show?” she asked.

“You’re still going to go?” I questioned.

“I thought about it in the shower, which was what made me remember the keys. Wendell would’ve wanted me to finish what he started, and it’s why we are here. I can’t help but go and look around at the other competitors to see who might’ve killed him.” She sat down in one of the small café chairs at my table.

I poured a cup of coffee each for her and me.

“Do you think someone from the car show could’ve killed him?” I put both cups of coffee on the table, and I sat down across from her in the other chair.

“They would have good motive. Everyone wants that car. It’s very valuable, and over ninety percent is all original. If the spare keys are missing, then I can’t help but think someone might’ve come into the bungalow to steal them, assuming Wendell was still gone. Maybe they thought I was with him. But when Wendell showed up, they were taken by surprise and killed him.” Her brows scrunched together.

“Why don’t we leave the investigating up to Hank?” I suggested but made a mental note to remember what she said because I knew myself. There was no way I wasn’t going to follow her to the car show to find out exactly who might have wanted Wendell dead.

“Sure.” She nodded, and her expression went back to dull. She picked up her coffee to take a sip.

“Where are the keys Wendell used for the car?” I asked, unable to let the conversation die, though I knew I should.

“Probably in his pants pocket.” She sighed. “He kept the real keys on his key ring. Which reminds me, did you see his car?”

My eyes shifted. I tried to recall spotting the long Lincoln Town Car. I got up and peeled back two of the blinds from the window over my kitchen sink.

“I can’t see from this angle.” I closed them and went over to the screen door and looked toward their bungalow. “No.”

I pulled my phone from my back pocket and quickly texted Hank.

“What are you doing?” The frightened tone in Lonie’s voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m going to tell Hank that Wendell’s car is missing.” I bit the edge of my lips. “Do you think Wendell might’ve gotten a ride back to the campground, and that’s the car I saw leaving?”

“You saw a car leaving?” Her eyes widened.

“Don’t get excited.” I could tell I’d given her a little hope that I might’ve seen the actual killer’s car. “It was too dark, and our security camera is broken, so I have nothing to offer.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. She frowned.

Immediately, Hank texted me back.

“He’s got several questions that need to be answered like the make and model of the car. Do you think you can call him?” I asked.

“Sure. But my phone is in the bungalow in my purse.” The sadness on her face had cemented. There was no other type of expression when she talked.

I texted Hank back, asking if one of the deputies could get Lonie’s purse and her keys so she could have access to her car.

“He said that he’ll have one of the deputies get your purse and keys so you can call him and also make a time to come to the sheriff’s department today.” I knew a lot of conversation had happened over the last fifteen minutes, but I also knew it was information she needed to give to Hank. “Hank has always told me the first forty-eight hours after a crime is committed are the most important to finding the killer. The faster you get your purse and call him, the better.”

“Okay.” She stood up and placed the half-drunk coffee mug in the sink. “I’ll go do that now. And I will go on over to the car show. I know it will be a shock for people to see me, but I also want to make sure the roadster is still there.”

“Remember my card is on the welcome packet with my cell number on it. If you need anything, call me.” I stood at the camper door and watched her walk over to the bungalow where, true to Hank’s word, a deputy met her at the door.

I continued to observe as he handed her purse to her, and she dug inside for the keys. A few seconds later, another officer had come to the door with what looked like the Happy Trails Campground packet I’d given her, which meant she really did want my phone number.

When she tucked herself in her little convertible and drove past my camper, I couldn’t resist taking out the notebook the Laundry Club Ladies and I had used in the past to help piece various clues together in other crimes.

I put it on the café table, clicked my ballpoint pen, and spent the next few minutes jotting down everything Lonie had told me.

Chapter 7

“Did you know Hank Sharp had the gall to ask me why I’d not paid close enough attention to the car that zoomed right on out of here?” Dottie sat on the curb outside of the Laundry Club.

The girls and I had decided to meet there and go down to the car show since Dottie and I were no good at Happy Trails. Hank and his group, along with Jerry and his deputies, had all but taken over the deed to the land.

In light of what had happened, I was glad to see that none of the guests had decided to leave.

I told Dottie about Lonie using my shower and the things she’d told me about the car keys missing.

“She’s got a theory someone stole the keys and is possibly going to steal the car.” I also told Dottie about Lonie going to the sheriff’s department to give a statement. “Possibly, the car that zoomed off was either the killer or someone who had driven Wendell back to the campground because his big Lincoln is not at the campground.”

Dottie blew a steady stream of smoke out before she sucked in another deep drag from her cigarette. The end of it lit up red.

“I told Hank that me and you weren’t babysitters to our guests. People shuffle in and out of there all day and night. They get lost in the middle of the night and turn up the drive to the campground.”

I had no idea why she was trying to explain it to me. He’d done the same thing to me. He gave me all sorts of you-know-what for not having the security system up and running.

“Did you happen to say anything to Henry about the security cameras?” I asked.

“Yep. He’s gonna make a few phone calls to get someone out there. He thinks it’s the wiring that’s the issue.” She lifted the cigarette to her face and looked at it before she decided to take another drag.

“I was wondering if the wires got all messed up when we were moving around the guest baskets in the closet.” I remembered how Dottie and I had sorted through the closet to see what we needed to order, and the system for the security cameras was located in there.

Dottie and I had tried to work around each other, since the closet was too small for both of us. I’d gotten stuck at one point, and I hit the system with my elbow, causing it to fall to the ground.

When I picked it up, it appeared to be fine, so I put it back where it had fallen from and called it good. Apparently, good was not right. It was completely wrong, and now I was paying for it.

“Where is everyone?” Dottie searched around and snuffed out the cigarette on the crease of concrete where the curb met the road.

When she got up, I followed suit.

“They said they’d be here to go with us.” Dottie scrutinized me. “Were you honestly wanting to go look at cars, or did you want to look around for something else?”

“You mean clues to why someone would kill someone in my campground?” I asked her.

“I figured it was something like that.” She grinned like a possum. “Good ole Mae. I can always count on you for a good time.”

“Well, if a good time involves a dead body, Dottie Swaggert, you’ve got low standards,” I teased and took a couple steps back from the curb when a U-Haul pulled right up to us, nearly smacking our faces with the side-view mirror.

“What the heck?” Dottie kicked the tire of the U-Haul.

The window rolled down.

“I can always count on you for some spunk.” The woman’s familiar voice came through the open passenger-side window.

“Ava?” I had walked up to give whoever it was all kinds of grief, but when I saw it was Ava Cox, a lawyer who’d helped me out a few times and someone from my past, I took a step back and looked at the truck. “What’s going on? You moving?”

“Yep.” She reached around and turned the truck off. “I’m moving right here.”

“Here?” Dottie’s jaw dropped. “I think I need another smoke.” Dottie excused herself and walked across the street, where she sat on a park bench in the median of downtown Normal. The grassy median was actually pretty big, and it was the reason Main Street was one way on each side. There were several picnic tables and, at the far end, was an amphitheater where our local community theater had outdoor plays and even outdoor concerts.

“You look shocked.” Ava’s long curly black hair wasn’t up in a bun like she usually wore it. She didn’t have on her fancy pinstripe pantsuit or heels.

“You just don’t look like you.” I couldn’t stop staring at the petite fifty-something-year-old lawyer. Her husband and my dead ex were business partners, and we had somewhat of a rocky past. “So you showing up here like this really has me thrown off my game. Or maybe it’s the new murder.”

“New murder?” She jumped a little too quickly on that for me. “New murder, huh?”

“Have you had a nervous breakdown?” I asked. I put my hand on her forehead. “Are you ill?”

“What are you doing?” She smacked my hand away.

“I’m seeing if you have a fever.”

“You’re crazy, Mae West.” She pinched her lips together. “This is a mistake.” She shook her head. “A big mistake. Maybe I’m sick. Maybe I’m losing my mind.”

“Hold up.” I went around to stop her. “What’s going on with you?”

Dottie had walked back over, but this time, Abby Fawn was with her.

“You still don’t know why she’s moving here?” Dottie looked a little ashamed of me for not being quite so nosy.

“I haven’t gotten that far,” I said through gritted teeth and gave her the wonky eye.

“She’s not been so bold.” Ava’s lips curled into a grin. “And that surprises me a bit about you, Mae.”

“Then why are you moving here?” I asked.

“It is closer to Grady Jr.’s prison, and actually, it was because of you, you, you, and you.” She directly pointed to Dottie, Abby, me, and now Queenie, who had joined us.

“I didn’t do nothin’ to you”—Dottie scowled—“to warrant you moving here.”

It wasn’t like we didn’t like Ava. She had come to my rescue several times in the lawyering department, but not so much in the friend department. I wasn’t even sure she’d forgiven me for what had happened to her husband and her son’s incarceration, but here she stood.

“You inspired me.” She drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin, making her body stick straight. “I’ve decided to leave my practice and open up a private practice right here in Normal.”

“Private practice, huh?” I questioned.

“Oh.” Abby reached for her phone in her pocket.

“Don’t you dare put that on social media,” I warned Abby, stopping her little fingers from typing to the bone. “I want to hear more about why you think you should open one up here.”

“I’m with Mae.” Queenie did a side step and put her arm around my shoulders. “We’ve got Detective Hank Sharp for all those needs.”

“Really?” Ava chuckled. “He’s on the side of the law and. . .”

“You were too.” Dottie’s eyes lowered. “I think you’ve gone and lost your ever-lovin’ mind.” Dottie wrapped her arms around her body. A cigarette dangled from her lips.

“He is the law. I would help out in the cases other people have like why someone would come into the campground and kill a man, where his wife would pay me to get the answers.” She was a sneaky one.

“How did you hear about Wendell Holliday?” I asked. “Did Lonie call you or something?”

“Wendell, Lonie,” she repeated, as if she were trying to store their names in her memory. “No. I heard on the news there was yet another murder in the Daniel Boone National Park on my way into town this morning.” She patted the side of the U-Haul. “Last week, I sold my house. A couple of days ago, I bought a house in Normal online. Yesterday, I packed up the things I wanted and left the things I didn’t.”

“I’ve seen your house.” I recalled the huge mansion from a couple of years ago when I’d showed up at her door unannounced. From what I remembered, she was packing up then to move because she wasn’t going to be able to keep that big house after Paul had swindled all their money. “You had a lot of stuff.”

“That was then. This is now.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “The new me is no longer going to wear those stuffy suits, and I think I’ll be happier living here among many new clients.”

“Clients?” Abby asked. “You have clients here?”

“Cheating husbands. Background searches. Credibility of business dealings.” She sighed. “You know, pretty much anything to do with underhanded people.”

“Where are you living?” Dottie asked. “We are all full on crazy at the campground.”

“Oh, Dottie. You’ve always been so good with words.” Ava didn’t make it sound like a compliment, and Dottie sure didn’t take it as one. “I bought a house in the little subdivision on the outskirts of the park in the Hemlock Grove neighborhood.”

“Oh!” Abby got excited. “I’ve been looking to buy a house there. That’s a great area.”

“Good to know. I bought it sight unseen because the market is so low on housing right now. I snagged it right up.” She rocked on the heels of her tennis shoes. “That means I’ve got to get going.”

“Get going?” Betts walked up with two cardboard carryout coffees from The Roasted Bean. “You’re just in time for coffee. Are you moving somewhere?” Betts’s eyes glanced over Ava’s shoulders and took in the U-Haul.

“Jeez Louise.” Dottie groaned.

“What?” Betts asked Dottie. Her eyes darted between me, Dottie, Abby, and Queenie. “Did I say something wrong? Or did I walk up into something?”

“Not a thing. I’d love to have a coffee.” Ava brushed past us and straight into the laundromat.

“Thanks.” Dottie was still bemoaning Betts’s invitation for Ava to join us.

“What?” Her brows furrowed when Dottie strode past her. Then she asked me, “What is going on?”

“Ava is moving here and opening a private practice.” I didn’t go into great detail, but that was the long and short of it.

“Wonderful! I bet she could use a few old, nosy gals like us.” Betts always saw the sunny side of things, and it wasn’t something I’d thought about, but she was right.

We could definitely do some sort of snooping around for Ava.

“Here you go.” I personally handed Ava one of the coffees after she’d sat down on the couch where there was a TV in front of it.

The Laundry Club was more than just a local laundromat. It was a place of community and gathering. Betts made sure it was homey for the campers while they cleaned their clothes by having a sitting area with the TV, a coffee bar, a game section, and a reading lounge. She offered a few different services as well. Customers could drop off their laundry, and she could do it for them. They could also have their laundry delivered to them.

“You are being nice now that I think about it.” Ava took the coffee and eased back on the couch, crossing her legs like I’d seen her do so many times in a suit skirt. It was weird seeing her in jeans.

“Actually, it was Betts who mentioned how this could be a win for all of us.” I distributed the rest of the coffees to the gals before I sat down to tell Ava our terms. “Not that you’re asking for our help, but you’ve worked with us a few times on cases we just so happened to stick our noses into.”

Without saying it, everyone knew they were all here for good reasons, not just because we wanted to put ourselves in danger or enjoyed being on the wrong side of the gun.

“I’m listening.”

“We know people around here, and we have ways of finding things out. In the beginning, it might be hard for you to get clients or get people to talk.” I looked at the ladies. “Yes. There has been a murder at the campground, and it’s a little baffling to me. It’s got me intrigued, so we met here so we could head over to the Old Train Station as a group to put our snooping to the test to see if anyone there had any motive to have killed Wendell Holliday. This could be a good first case for you, and we could help.”

“So you want to be a paralegal?” She didn’t seem to like that idea.

“No. I don’t want to be a par. . .” Queenie flung her hands into the air. “Whatever it was you said, I don’t want to be it. We just like to help out.” Queenie rolled her shoulders forward a few times then rolled them backwards before she extended her arms to the side and did the same routine with them. She never sat still. She was always doing some sort of movement that I could only think she did in her classes.

“Yeah. Maybe a consulting type of business.” I made a suggestion.

“I think you would be valuable to my practice on a need-be basis.” Ava knew a gift horse when she saw one. No matter how much she wanted to believe her business would take off, I knew differently.

It took me the better part of six months to a year before I got the citizens of Normal to see I wasn’t what my husband was, and they all knew Ava Cox’s husband was messed up in it, too, which meant she wasn’t going to be accepted with open arms. Maybe she would be a little more than I was since I had pulled her in on a couple of different cases over the past few years, but she was still going to have to prove her worth.

And what better way than for us to use her contacts and knowledge right now? Because no matter how much Violet Rhinehammer knew, since she was the local news reporter and had used her power of supplying us with contacts in the past, it always came with a price.

“Then I’m going with you today, after you follow me to my new house and let me drop the U-Haul off.” She continued when she noticed none of us protested. “And tomorrow you have to help me unpack the U-Haul.”

“I’ve got a bad hip.” Dottie wasn’t about to lift nothing. “And I might have to work if Hank releases the campground.”

“I’m off tomorrow. I can help.” Abby didn’t mind. She was always willing to help out. “Now can I tell my social media about the private practice in town?”

Chapter 8

It didn’t take long for the people of Normal to hear things, especially when they followed Abby on her social media accounts, so when we pulled up in Betts’s cleaning van behind the U-Haul, I wasn’t surprised to see the next-door neighbor and her son already standing at the front door with a plate of homemade goodies.

“So it’s true.” Ava thanked the mother and son. “This little town is very welcoming. I’m so glad to see it. Thank you, Darby.” Ava thanked the woman who introduced herself as Darby Greer, and her son was Beck. “Nice to meet you, Beck.”

“If you need any lawn service done, please let me know.” Beck pulled out a business card and handed it to her.

“Very impressive. The Mow Monster. Very clever.” Ava waved the card. “You know, it does look like I need some leaves raked up.”

“I do all the yards around here. Well, except for Mrs. Fraser. Mom said she’s a drunk and doesn’t. . .”

Beck’s mom interrupted him. “I didn’t say she was a drunk.” Darby’s face turned ten shades of red. “Beck sometimes hears things wrong.”

“No. I heard you tell Lennox Weaver that on the porch the other day when y’all were discussing that romance book.” Beck continued to talk as Darby took him by the shoulders.

“He’ll be here tomorrow to rake your leaves.” Darby rushed him across the lawn, Beck still protesting that he heard what he heard.

“It looks like I’ve got me a neighborhood gossip.” Ava laughed. “I can’t wait to meet this Mrs. Fraser.”

“And you have an instant book club.” Betts laughed. “Your place is great.”

I’d never been in the neighborhood before. The houses were tucked away on very woodsy lots that were about one-fourth of an acre each. It looked like one of those larger building companies where they offered five different styles of houses.

“It’s a two-bedroom and two-bath ranch.” Ava walked out to the mailbox and left us standing on the small, covered porch. “The builder left me the keys.” She dangled them in the air and moved past us to open the door. “Don’t forget to take off your shoes.”

One by one, we plucked off our shoes, letting them land in one big pile. Ava had already gotten in and walked through the single-level home. The entrance had a gray slate floor that led straight into a hardwood-floor family room with vaulted ceilings. The kitchen was open to the right with two pillars as a separator. There was a small hall off the family room to the left that led down to the bedrooms on opposite sides with a Jack and Jill bathroom between them at the very end of the hallway.

The other bathroom was next to the kitchen, along with a laundry room that doubled as a mudroom with a door to the garage.

“This is really nice.” Abby continued to look around. “I really think I love this.”

“I bet Beck would know if there’s a house for sale,” Ava joked, but in all reality, I bet he did. “Are y’all ready to go? Time’s wasting, and that means money is too.”

Lucky for us, Betts had the big cleaning van for all of us to pile into and head out to the Old Train Station Motel.

Betts knew that place well. Probably better than Coke Ogden, the owner, since Betts cleaned the rooms for her.

“Fawn Road?” Ava looked at Abby. “Any relation?”

“You’re going to find out real fast that if it has the name of someone in town, then it has to do with that family. So yeah, it’s my family.” Abby didn’t go into great detail about the history.

When we pulled into the parking lot, there was really no place to park. We followed the directions of a parking attendant leading us into one of the fields next to the motel for overflow parking.

Between the motel and several barns, the cars for the show were all lined up, and attendees were already walking around them. Like Lonie had said about Wendell having put his car under a tent, there looked to be several who had done the same thing.

“I’ve never been to a car show.” Ava had hopped out of the van and looked around. She tucked her arm in the crook of my elbow.

“What’s this all about?” I knew her behavior was odd, and she was definitely not being herself. “Are you dying or something?”

“I thought we were friends?” She appeared shocked, which surprised me.

“I always thought of us as me asking you to consult things for me. And Dottie always told me to call you when things arise, but we never thought you really liked us. In fact. . .” I was going to jog her memory on how negative she’d reacted when I did call her.

“The past is the past.” She shrugged and dragged me to the right as the others continued down the center of the line of cars. “Mae, I have been depressed. It’s not that I miss the life I had before you-know-what, but I found that I’ve lost all my friends. When everything went down and Grady Jr. went to jail, I threw myself into work. You know I moved, and then I still had too much stuff. It wasn’t until I was left with only one case that I had time to think about what had really happened. It was like this wall of bricks fell on me, and I found myself drinking too much wine. I lost my job at the firm.”

“I’m so sorry.” I felt horrible for her. “I apologize for how we’ve treated you today, but you should’ve come out and told us from the get-go.”

“It’s hard to come to terms with realizing you’ve become an alcoholic and depressed, much less telling people.” Ava and I swerved around a few cars, not really taking in why they were there and what made them so special.

I found myself haphazardly just smiling at the owners or the other people walking past while attentively listening to what Ava had to say.

“I’ve become a member of Alcoholics Anonymous and had to repair a lot of my feelings with Grady Jr.” I could hear the hurt in her voice. “My therapist told me that I had to make good with my past and asked me if I’ve ever been to a place that I had never thought or needed to think about alcohol. Of course, I thought of Normal.”

We continued to the next car in line, and I noticed it was the guy from the campground. Hoss Asher. He stood proudly next to a low-riding black truck. I overheard him telling a group of people about the engine.

“That’s why I came here to live. And like I said, I’m trying to repair my relationship with Grady Jr.” She tugged me closer. “I hope you don’t hold bad feelings against him.”

“I do forgive him. I think he was a struggling young man that let the rage get to him. I’m truly sorry for what happened.” There was no need for me to rehash anything for fear I’d throw her into wanting a drink.

“I also like how you and your friends get together and enjoy each other’s company. You know how it is to lose all your friends.” She stopped, bringing me to a halt with her. I pulled my arm away from her elbow, glad to have freedom. “I thought that maybe if I moved here like you, then I’d find a new life. You seem so at ease and settled.” She smiled, and her face softened. “You make all this look so easy.” She waved her hands down her outfit.

“You look good in raggy clothes,” I teased, knowing we’d both been used to the finer clothes and lifestyle before it was ripped out from underneath us, and decided to give her a little grace.

There was no way Ava Cox was going to fit in with the Laundry Club Ladies, but she could fit into the community.

“Welcome to Normal.” I gave her a hug. “I’m actually really excited to see if I can help out with your future clients, but I really want to see what you think about Wendell Holliday’s murder, starting with this guy.”

I nodded to Hoss.

“And why him?” she asked.

“He’s staying at the campground, and I was talking to Lonie Holliday, Wendell’s wife, when Hoss came up, asking where Wendell was. She told him to forget it, that Wendell wasn’t selling his car to no one, and I saw him and Wendell in deep conversation. So did Dottie.” I looked back over at Hoss. He was walking toward us.

“Apparently, you think there had to be motive there.” Ava smiled as he got closer.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Hoss’s eyes sort of looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“Ummm.” I always hated to be put on the spot. “I’ve seen you at my campground.”

“And in Perrysburg. Bobby Ray and I were friends around town.” He stopped me in my tracks when he mentioned the name of the town I grew up in.

“Really? I’m sorry. I’m not sure if you realize I got out of there as quick as I could. But as you can see, I’m practically right back where I started.” This might be the icebreaker. I could definitely ask Bobby Ray about him.

Or not.

“Why where you talking to Wendell Holliday at the campground before he was murdered?” Ava went straight for the jugular.

“Hold up, lady.” The vein in his neck popped out. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying there are two eyewitnesses who saw you having some sort of heated discussion with the victim.” Ava’s head tilted to the side, and her brows shot up. She had on her lawyering face.

“I don’t think I need to tell you anything.” He scoffed. “Who are you?”

“She’s my private lawyer I hired since the police around here aren’t doing much to find my husband’s killer, and they seem to be dragging me down to the station when they need to be looking for the killer.” Lonie Holliday appeared with Betts, Dottie, Abby, and Queenie behind her. “Isn’t that right, Ava?”

“Yeah. I’d like to know what that heated conversation was about since I’ve been hired by. . .” Ava’s voice trailed off.

“Lonie Holliday.” Lonie crossed her arms across her chest.

“Since I’ve been hired by Lonie Holliday,” Ava finished with a stern voice.

By now, the Laundry Club Ladies and I stood there stunned as we watched what was happening.

“If you think for one minute that I had anything to do with Wendell’s murder, you’re nuttier than he is when he didn’t take the offer for me to buy his car.” Hoss pointed a finger directly at Lonie.

“You’ve lost to Wendell ten times. It got to you, and you killed him!” Lonie kicked the tire of Hoss’s truck and almost fell to the ground. She caught herself by the door handle with one hand. Luckily, Hoss had the windows down, and she used the other hand to grab the top of the door, steadying herself.

“Are you okay?” Hoss asked Lonie, offering a hand.

She shoved his hand away.

“I don’t need any help from a killer.” The words seethed through her teeth. The tears streamed down her face, making her eyes even more red. “I want you to go to see Hank Sharp, and tell him that I want him to investigate Hoss Asher in the murder of my husband.”

Ava nodded and patted Lonie on the back. She whispered something to Lonie before she came over to where the Laundry Club Ladies and I were standing.

“I’m going to go ahead and bring her back to my place since I don’t have an office space yet, so I’m taking you up on the offer to snoop around.” She took the time to look each one of us dead in the eyes.

“What about the cabbage?” Dottie was the first one to speak up.

“Cabbage?” Ava asked with a confused look.

“Moolah. Cashola. Dough.” Dottie put her hand out. “You want us to help you, then you’ve got to come up with the goods.”

“Fine. I’ll come up with an amount, and we’ll discuss it before you give me any information you find.” Ava glared at Dottie and turned on her heels, taking Lonie by the shoulders and carting her off.

Chapter 9

“What on earth was all that about?” Bobby Ray had walked up on the tail end of Lonie going off on Hoss.

“That woman is crazy.” Hoss shuffled his feet. “She’s upset and beside herself about her husband, but that gives her no right to stand here and point fingers at me. None whatsoever.”

“Why was Ava Cox here?” Bobby Ray asked me.

“She moved here and is opening up a lawyering firm.” Dottie took the liberty to speak for me, something she did a lot. “Said she’d give us money if we snooped around.” Her eyes lowered, and she took a long look at Hoss. “Where were you last night?”

“Aw, come on.” Hoss threw his arms up in the air. “She’s got you believing I killed Wendell?”

“I’m not sure if you recall, but we all saw you having somewhat of a heated conversation with the man during our little get-together last night.” Dottie wasn’t so good at secretly snooping, which was what I’d planned to do.

God love her.

“Yeah. I was shocked to see him here.” Hoss started to stutter. “I. . . I. . .” He sucked in a deep breath, causing his already big chest to pop out even more.

It looked like one of those cartoon characters you’d see on a kid’s show where the muscle man took a big, deep breath, making his waist small and his legs short. Well, that was what Hoss looked like as he got his composure under foot.

“The last time I’d seen him was at another car show in northern Kentucky. He told me he wasn’t coming here because his wife didn’t like camping. So I honestly thought I was going to take this one home.” He shook his head.

“Wendell has beaten you every time?” I wanted to clarify.

“Yes,” Hoss said with a stern voice. “When I saw him at the campground, I was mad. If I’d known he was coming, I’d not have bothered coming. I was hoping to win so it’d make up for all the fees I’d paid this year in registrations to lose to him. We are coming into winter where there’s no shows, and winning little competitions here and there really does help out with winter bills.”

I understood exactly what he was saying. The first year here during the winter, I was doing anything to save money since people didn’t camp in the snowy months. But with a little bit of noodling and getting a solid marketing plan, I’d come up with all sorts of activities to do in and around the Daniel Boone National Park, along with making sure the campers were nice and insulated for winter guests. The bungalows weren’t open in the winter, but the campers sure did stay booked up.

“That gives you a motive to have killed Wendell Holliday.” Hank Sharp’s voice trailed over from behind me.

All of us twisted around to see he was not alone. Ava Cox and Lonie Holliday were with him.

“Jeez, you got the cop?” Hoss’s jaw dropped as he stared at Lonie.

“I want him to know who you are and what you’ve done in the past.” Lonie nudged Hank. “Go on. Arrest him.”

“I’m not going to just arrest anyone.” I could tell Hank was trying to speak as gently as he could. He looked at Ava for help.

“I think what he’s saying is that he will look into everything you’ve told him and certainly question Hoss Asher.” Ava shot Hoss a look that could kill. “Then he will make his decision whether or not Mr. Asher is a suspect, which we clearly believe he is.”

“I didn’t kill your husband.” Hoss’s veins in his neck were popping out. It was like the anger deep inside of him was about to burst at any moment.

“Hank, are you going to arrest him?” Bobby Ray spoke up to defuse the eruption that was about to take place. The tension was as thick as the smell of the kettle corn wafting over from the barn.

“I’d just like to talk to him,” Hank said. “Here’s my card. You can come down to the station after this, or we can come to the campground to take a statement from you.”

“Fine.” Hoss snapped the card out of Hank’s fingers.

Hank’s brow lifted, and he gave Hoss a glassy stare.

“I think that sounds like a good plan for now.” I had to make sure Hank wasn’t going to lose his temper right there and take Hoss in, which would blow any sort of statement out of the water and ruin Hank’s case against Hoss.

“He’ll give you a call.” Bobby Ray glanced between Hank and Hoss. Hoss nodded, his jaw tense. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Hank took Ava and Lonie to the side. Lonie’s lips were moving a mile a minute. She didn’t look too happy with what had taken place.

“Let’s go grab some of that kettle corn,” I suggested to the ladies.

“Did you see Hank?” Dottie smacked her leg once we got inside the barn and sat with our kettle corn on one of the bales of hay Coke Ogden had placed around for extra seating. “He was narrowing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck, trying to keep it together.”

“Hoss does look awfully suspicious.” Betts’s shoulders lifted. “Honestly, he does have a good reason to have killed him.”

“Yep. For one, he was angry with Wendell for showing up,” Abby noted.

It was time for me to pull out the notebook from my bag.

Everyone noticed and smiled. I handed the notebook to Abby and gave her a pen. She was always the best note-taker when it came time to solve a crime.

“He also mentioned he needed to win this to make up for all the money he lost in registration to the other car shows.” Queenie took a handful of the kettle corn.

“I can look back at the various car shows on the computer database at the library. Hoss said he’d seen Wendell at a car show in northern Kentucky. I know it’s public record who was in the shows. Maybe some of the participants are at this show, and we can snoop around.”

“That’s a good idea.” I gestured for her to write all of it down in the notebook. “Why don’t we all go our separate ways and get together later tonight?”

“Sounds good,” Betts agreed, and so did everyone else. “Campground?”

“Yep, I’ll get the fire going,” I told them.

“I’ll bring the dessert. Lots of desserts. The Bible-thumpers are making Lonie some food to bring over, and I’m sure they’ll have more than one person who will eat.” Betts and her Bible-thumper group always made food to take when there was a death. It was a way of life, and even though I hated to think it, it was the best food in the world.

“This is going to be the easiest money we’ve made yet.” Dottie vigorously rubbed her hands together while we all thought about the extra cash Ava Cox was going to have to pay us.

Chapter 10

The Laundry Club Ladies and I had decided to leave the first day of the car show and wait for Abby’s findings about who might’ve been to the previous car shows. It was the only link we had as to why someone would have motive to kill Wendell Holliday.

Dottie and I still needed to give the campground a good cleaning since the party had gone much longer than we were up for. I didn’t have Henry do it because I wanted him to focus on getting the cameras set up.

“Mae.” Mary Elizabeth was sitting underneath my camper awning at the picnic table. “What on earth is going on? I heard from someone staying at the bed-and-breakfast about the murder that took place here.” She was dressed in her lime-green skinny pants with a long-sleeved flowery top and a pair of low-heeled ankle boots. Of course her pearls hung around her neck with pearl earrings in her lobes.

“Yeah. Can you believe it?” I asked. I searched around and noticed a few of my chrysanthemums I’d placed on the outside rug near the table had been moved. “Did you move my mums?”

“I rearranged a few things.” She ran her hand along the new fall tablecloth I didn’t buy. “And brought over a few goodies I picked up at the Thrifty Nickle.”

There was no need to say anything, and keeping the peace was better. I’d just wait to move my stuff back after she left.

I unlocked the camper and let Fifi out to potty. She darted over to Mary Elizabeth for some good grandma loving before she ran off to do her business.

When I went back to talk to Mary Elizabeth, I noticed Ava Cox had pulled her car up to the office and watched as she and Lonie walked in.

“Thank you.” I knew Mary Elizabeth was waiting for me to use my good-girl manners, because she shifted left, right, and with a few light sighs. A sure sign she was waiting to hear from me. “I appreciate it since it does look like I’m going to be spending some time trying to figure out what happened.”

“Really?” Mary Elizabeth gasped. “I don’t know, Mae. A few of the times you got lucky with some stumbled-upon clues, but this seems a bit out of your league.”

“Actually, Ava Cox has bought a house here in Normal and is opening up a private practice law firm. She’s representing the victim’s wife and is going to pay me to look for some clues, which you and I both know we need any extra money to save up for the winter lean months.” I had to spin it in a way that Mary Elizabeth would understand, and money for the winter was just the ticket.

“Oh dear.” Her brows knitted, and a worried expression crossed her face.

“Very sad.” It was sad. “I want everyone to come to Normal to experience a good time and make good memories, but I can’t help but think someone from the car show had something to do with it.”

Dottie was strolling along the lake with a garbage poker and trash bag. She was snarling and muttering, so I was sure she was imagining giving the campers a piece of her mind about them leaving trash everywhere. It was part of owning a campground. The amount of stuff campers tried to burn in the campfire rings were what would surprise me the most. It ranged from batteries to plastic containers. It was clearly stated in their packets we gave them upon check-in what they could and couldn’t burn.

“How’s your back?” I asked and sat down across from her.

“Do you think that was legal?” Her eyes grew to the size of silver dollars.

“I’m guessing a shirtless hippy with a chiropractic chair in the middle of the Daniel Boone National Forest wouldn’t be considered a legit business, but if you feel better”—I shrugged—“who am I to judge?”

“I feel fantastic.” She shifted her head side to side, left to right. “My neck even feels good. I’ve been sleeping so good that I want to go back weekly.”

“Weekly?” I questioned.

“Yes. We need to go back and find them.” So the real reason Mary Elizabeth had shown up was finally coming out.

It was generally how it happened in the south. People always stopped by unannounced, which was more than welcome, but after a little bit of chitchat and sharing some sort of food, the gossip or the truth of their visit would come out. Some people did stop by just to say hi, but that was rare. For Mary Elizabeth to leave The Milkery with a bed-and-breakfast full of guests, well, that was odd.

“Sure. I’m waiting on some info from Abby, who’s digging around about the other car shows the victim had gone to, so I’m certain I’ll need to go back to the Old Train Station to talk to a few of the regular car show participants.” My eyes slid down her. “I won’t let you go with me unless you get you some suitable hiking shoes. Clothes, I don’t care about, but the shoes, I do.”

“I already got me some on order. They will be here by tomorrow.” She stood up. She took a couple of steps forward and a few more backwards. “See. Moving around great.” She walked over and gave me a kiss on the forehead before she left.

“What was that visit about?” Dottie had made it to the area of the lake across from me.

“Here.” I took the poker and garbage bag from her to take over where she’d left off. “She wants to go back to Tex the shirtless chiropractor.”

“You mean Glenda Russell’s fruit loop?” She shook her head. “I want to get a good gander at this feller named Tex. What kind of name is Tex?”

Dottie kept alongside me while I continued the path around the lake. She rambled on about Tex and how he must be a shyster. In all honesty, I didn’t hear a word she said. My mind was on the group of car show participants who had come back from the campground.

“But don’t you worry. I’m going to go find out what they know,” Dottie assured me.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” Her words had brought me out of my thoughts.

“Those people over there. I saw them talking to Wendell the other night, and I want to know what they were talking about. You know.” She rubbed her fingers and thumb together, referring to money.

“I’ll finish up the lake and along the tree line. Then we can regroup.” Fifi had found me, and instead of running around the lake, she jumped into it to swim across to get to me. “Did you talk to Ava or Lonie?” I asked before she walked away.

“Ava had asked if they could use the office until Hank came and released the bungalow, which is supposed to happen soon.” Dottie shrugged. “I told her no problem. Especially since we are going to get some of that scratch.” Dottie did her money gesture again, making me laugh.

Fifi was doggy paddling the fastest she could, chasing the couple of swans who would soon be gone for the winter months.

Before I could get started on picking up the trash along the tree line, Bobby Ray drove into the campground with a passenger.

Hoss Asher.

Bobby Ray pulled up in front of the orange camper Hoss had rented for the week and let him out. I watched as Bobby Ray drove off and waited until he had pulled up to his bungalow and went inside before I put down the trash poker and walked down to talk to Hoss.

It was as good a time as any.

“Hey, Hoss.” I offered a smile when he opened the camper door. “Do you like the cute pumpkins a few of the guests’ kids carved?”

He was staying in a twenty-one-foot trailer with a bump out on the back side. It was one of the more expensive campers to rent and really for more than one person, but he rented it for himself.

The kitchen counter was large enough for the Crock-Pot I’d put in there since I figured a family would be using it. There were two recliners to the right with a small table between them where I had the cutest camping trivets for drinks. The bump-out had a nice leather sofa, and there was even a fake fireplace with a television mounted above it.

The countertop looked like marble, but I’d used a peel and stick I’d found online to cover the old one. It was amazing the things they sold nowadays. The bathroom was nice and big with a stand-up shower and glass shower door, not like my little bathroom with the infant-sized tub and showerhead.

There were two bunk beds down the hallway, which ended at the bedroom with the king-sized bed.

There were a lot of little extras sitting around like pictures or signs about camping. I decorated it more of a boho style that didn’t scream too girly like my camper. There were a few macramé hangers on the wall. The colors were brown and white. The oversized woven baskets had several comfy blankets rolled up, each a muted color. I’d even had a small basket of toys in one of the cabinets, along with various family games.

“Is that who put them there?” he asked about the pumpkins. “Cute.”

In the recreational room, we had self-directed activities for families, and one of this season’s was pumpkin carving. They could go in and pick out a pumpkin from the stack Henry had put in there and carve them. We only asked while they were here to place them around the campground and were more than happy to allow them to take them home afterwards. It was fun, and I loved seeing all the glowing faces come to life at night.

“Did you want to come in for something?” he asked.

“I wanted to talk to you about Wendell.” I didn’t need to beat around the bush and try to get my way into why I was here with idle chitchat.

“I told your boyfriend everything.” He sighed and opened the door, stepping back into the camper.

I walked up the three metal steps and noticed he’d barely touched anything. There was nothing out of place like when someone used a camper. Not even a bag on the floor.

“Do you want a water?” He opened up the refrigerator, where I was happy to see some food, a wine bottle, and a pallet of waters he’d stuck in there.

“Sure.” I smiled and sat down on the couch. “I’ve always loved this camper.”

“It’s nice.” He nodded.

“It doesn’t look like you stayed here. You must be the tidiest man I’ve ever seen,” I observed.

“I don’t make too much of a mess.” He lowered his eyes. “What do you want to know?” There was uncertainty in his voice that told me he didn’t fully trust me.

“I want to know exactly what happened between you and Wendell. No cops. Just me and you.” I found the upfront tactic was going to work with him.

“He has this old 1947 Cadillac series 62. It’s in mint condition. I’m talking over one hundred thousand dollars.” He must’ve seen the look on my face. “Yes. One hundred thousand.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize old cars were worth that much.” I sat there, baffled.

“It’s not just the car. It’s literally never been touched. Everything is original, down to the pattern on the dash and the build sheet from when it was first sold. Wendell told me he’d sell it to me. We had business dealings over the years.” Hoss snorted. “True Wendell Holliday style, he brought it here to compete against me yet again, telling me he changed his mind when we were supposed to do the deal this weekend and live onstage.”

“Really? Did he say what changed his mind?” I asked.

“Not a word. But I couldn’t believe it. So I cornered him here when he wouldn’t talk to me. I also tried to talk to his wife, but she told me in so many words to forget about it.”

“And that’s the car he has at the show?” I wanted to make sure I heard him correctly.

“Yes. And apparently his keys are missing. Your boyfriend said he was going to get a warrant to come here and search my place, but I’m telling you, I didn’t kill him or take his keys,” he said. He set his jaw and stared at me.

“Do you know of anyone else that might’ve wanted to kill him?” I asked.

“He was always making deals and not following through, so I told Detective Sharp that he had several people who he made mad. Not just me.” Hoss opened the refrigerator again and took out a bottle of water.

This time, I noticed the bottle of wine had been opened, making me wonder if he had company at one point, because I specifically remembered the basket from the Red Barn restaurant he’d added to his rental package didn’t include wine.

“Where were you the night Wendell was murdered?” I asked.

“Right here sleeping.” He looked away. “Right back there.”

“You didn’t hear anything or anyone since your camper is backed up to the woods?” I asked.

“No, but. . .” He was confused or at least appeared to be.

“I was outside with my dog when I think the whole thing was taking place. There was a car with a butterfly license plate that zoomed by your place, and someone ran into the woods between your camper and the one next to you. Since the bedroom window is right there, I just wondered if you heard something.” I shrugged and took a drink of water from the bottle.

“Not a thing. I was fast asleep by then.” He strode over to the door. “I’ve got to get ready to go back to the car show. Bobby Ray is driving me since Hank decided to take me down to the station after all.”

“I thought he gave you his card and told you to come down.” I clearly remembered Hank doing that while we were all standing there.

“I guess he changed his mind.” His facial features softened. “While you’re here. . .” He sighed. “I do want to tell you how sorry I was about your family. I remember that. I’m a few years older than you and hung out with Bobby Ray a few times before Mary Elizabeth ran me off.”

“Oh no. That meant she wasn’t so fond of you.” I hated that.

“Still, back then, I drove a classic car, and the trunk wasn’t sealed too tight. Bobby Ray and I had gotten some beer, and instead of putting it in a cooler, we iced it in the trunk. The next morning, I got up when I heard something and looked at Bobby Ray’s window.” He smiled at the memory. “Can you believe she got into the trunk of my car after she noticed something in the trunk dripping on her driveway? When she opened my trunk and saw all that beer, she opened every single one and poured it out on the lawn. I yelled for Bobby Ray to get up to see what his foster mama was doing, but she’d already poured out every single can.”

“Sounds like her.” I couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling inside of me.

“Let’s just say that after that, I was no longer welcome at the Moberly household.” His head tilted. His soft eyes met mine, and I knew that look.

It was the pitiful Maybelline Grant orphan look that I’d seen so many times on people’s faces when they realized who I was, and that I was the girl who lost her family.

“Thank you, about my family.” I knew I needed to stop that conversation in its tracks.

“Well, I worked at the coal mine after school, and I still can’t believe they ruled that a house fire when they never really knew what caused it.” His words went in one ear and out the other.

“I’m sorry I took up all your time. But I want to solve this murder, and I sure would hate to see anyone be wrongly accused, so if you are hiding something or not telling on someone, please come forth with the truth.” I had a niggling suspicion Hoss Asher knew more than he wanted me to know.

Something rolled underneath my shoe when I took the last step from the camper. I looked down and noticed it was a tube of lipstick. I picked it up and recognized it from one of the fancier department stores I used to frequent.

“Midnight rain.” I read the name of it from the small round circle on the bottom. It couldn’t have been here too long, since the label did not appear to be wet from the recent rains we’d gotten.

I glanced back to say something to Hoss about it, but he’d already shut the door. Not that it was his. . . or maybe it belonged to the person he served the wine to since it couldn’t have been from the last family who had rented the camper.

I slipped it into the pocket of my jeans so when I got back to the office, I could put it in the lost and found box, which should just be called the lost box because no one ever came back to find anything.

With the fancy dark-brown lipstick in my pocket, I left his camper with more questions than answers, but in time, I’d get Bobby Ray to open up and tell me what I needed to know. It was trying to find the time when he wasn’t busy or working with the car show that was difficult. Bobby Ray had gotten a lot of extra work thrown at him while being at the car show.

I went back to pick up the poker and found Fifi, who was still doing circles in the lake, trying to swim with the swans. Now they were just teasing the poor poodle.

The tree line behind the rows of campers had a couple of trail mouths. The Red Fox Trail was one of my favorites because it led down to a waterway where I provided kayaking, canoeing, and paddle boarding for my guests. I’d teamed up with local former kayak champion Alvin Deters, so campers were also able to sign up for lessons through him. I’d even invested in new lighting, so guests could see along the path, but I made sure it didn’t compromise the natural light.

Henry maintained the tree line and kept it nice and tidy. Real hikers and campers understood how to properly get rid of trash, whereas the new hikers didn’t take it as seriously, and I was sure that with all the trash I was finding, these car show participants didn’t comprehend the unwritten laws of being courteous and throwing their trash away in the receptacles, not the woods.

“Look at you.” I shook the poker at Fifi after she’d finally decided she couldn’t keep up with the swans. “All that pretty white fur is black from the lake muck.”

She didn’t pay no mind to me. She started to dig.

“Stop that. Your toenails are going to be filthy.” I shook the trash bag to give her a little fright, but it didn’t help. She didn’t stop until whatever it was she’d been digging for jingled, catching my attention.

“What is that?” I bent down, believing I’d find some sort of animal bone she’d sniffed out, as usual, but when I took a closer look, it was a key ring, which had been neatly placed in a small hole at the base of the tree where the tree roots stuck slightly out of the ground. I picked up the key ring, and my heart nearly stopped. “Good girl,” I praised her. “Let’s go.”

I pushed the keys in the pocket of my jeans so I didn’t lose them. If this set of keys was what I thought it was, the keys that were stolen from Wendell, maybe the killer was the one on foot.

I headed toward office. I heard Dottie call out my name from across the lake.

“That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen you move.” Dottie met me at the office door. “So I know you’ve got some information.”

“I do.” I gasped for breath because she was right. I never did any sort of cardio exercise, but I wasn’t about to tell Queenie that. She’d for sure stay on me about taking her Jazzercise class. “Come on.”

Ava was sitting in my desk chair, and Lonie was in the chair in front of my desk. They had their heads together and were talking.

“You aren’t going to believe what I found.” I took the key ring out of my pocket and dropped it on the table. “They weren’t just thrown on the ground. They were placed there like someone had stashed them to come to back later.”

“Wendell’s spare keys!” Lonie jumped up and threw her arms around me. “Where?”

“They were just beyond the tree line in the woods. So I think the person Dottie and I saw on foot was the killer.” I looked at Dottie.

“They broke in, and when Wendell came back from whoever had dropped him off, the killer was startled and shoved him, making him fall and hit his head.” Ava finished up the theory. “Wendell knew who it was, so the killer took the gun and shot him because now they had to kill him.”

“Hit his head?” I wasn’t following.

“Yes. Hank told me in the initial report from Colonel Holz that Wendell hit his head first, then someone shot him to finish off the job.” She reached across the desk and put her hand on Lonie’s. “Lonie didn’t wake up because there was a silencer on the end of the gun. The one thing Lonie shouldn’t’ve done was to pick up the gun.”

“I’m so stupid,” Lonie cried out.

“You’re not stupid.” Ava tried to calm down her client. “You just reacted.”

“Yeah.” I tried to offer my own words of comfort. “You were probably in shock.”

“Detective Sharp said I ruined the best evidence they had.”

Her words made me cringe at the thought of Hank being so abrasive.

“There’s no need to even go there. What’s done is done. And now that Mae has found the keys, I think Mae should put them back.” Ava shocked me.

“Why?” I questioned. “Don’t you think we should take them to Hank?”

“I think we should see if the killer comes back to get them.” Ava grinned.

“Oh. I like your noodlin’.” Dottie unsnapped her cigarette case and beat it on the side of her hand. A cigarette popped out. She took it and stuck it in the corner of her lip. “I think we can catch the killer faster than Hank Sharp.” She slid her gaze to me, and the cigarette bounced as she talked. “No offense to your beau.”

“None taken. But you think it’s safe?” I asked.

“Let me ask my Smith and Wesson.” Dottie pulled up the leg of her pants and exposed her little handgun strapped to her ankle. “Do you think you can keep me safe?” she asked her gun.

“Okay, smart aleck.” I rolled my eyes.

“Mmhmmm. . .” she hummed. “We will be just fine.”

The campground was pretty quiet, making it fairly easy for me to slip toward the tree without being seen by anyone other than Bobby Ray and Hoss.

“What are you up to?” Bobby Ray asked.

“I think Wendell’s killer stashed the keys on the path. I’m hiding here to see if the killer comes back to get the keys.” I glanced over at Hoss and gave a slight wave. “Where are y’all off to?”

“Hoss needs to. . .” Bobby Ray was interrupted by Hoss.

“I’ve got some business to take care of.” Hoss lifted his chin. “Bobby Ray is taking me. Are you doing your own investigation?”

Bobby Ray chuckled.

“Mae thinks she’s really good at sniffing out killers. When, in reality, she’s good at being gossipy and nosey.” Bobby Ray winked at me. “Ain’t that right?”

“Get out of here.” I patted the hood of his car and went on my way before anyone saw me put the keys back. I had a job to do.

“See ya.” Bobby Ray sped off.

With a plan in place, Dottie in the office watching out the window, me in the recreation room positioned at the window, and the keys back in the root of the tree like I found them, we were in full view and waiting for the killer to come get the keys.

Chapter 11

“You see anything yet?” Dottie had called my cell after we’d been waiting a couple of hours.

“No. Not a thing. Not even a squirrel trying to dig up a nut for winter.” It had been very quiet. Even the few car show participants staying in the campground hadn’t come out. “But I expect all that will change with it getting close to suppertime.”

“Henry came in here a few minutes ago and had the security guy on speakerphone. He talked Henry around all them wires, and don’t you know that when me and you was in that closet all squeezed in that’s when it fell, the hardwire popped out, and that’s why it wasn’t working.” Dottie laughed. “Ah-oh. Hank just pulled up.”

“I’ll be right there.” I hated leaving my post in case the killer did come back, but I didn’t want to give Hank any inkling I was messing with the investigation because he would be mad as a wet hen. “Hey!” I yelled to get his attention when he didn’t see me at first.

“There you are.” He had a big smile on his face. “I called a couple of times.”

“You did?” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and acted like I didn’t realize I had my phone on silent because if the killer had come back, and even though I was in the building, I didn’t want to take a chance on the killer hearing my phone if they did come back to get the keys.

I flipped the notification button back on.

“Gosh. I didn’t hear it.” I returned his smile, leaning in to give him a kiss. “Any news on the case?” I asked.

“I decided to bring Hoss in to the station.” Hank looked over my shoulder toward the camper Hoss had rented for the week. “The judge granted me a warrant while I was talking to him. Jerry sent one of his deputies to take a look in Hoss’s hot rod for anything before we came here to look in the camper, and we found Wendell’s hot rod keys in there.”

“In where?” I questioned.

“In Hoss’s car at the car show. I guess he figured he could hide the evidence there and not be found. So we booked him.”

“Huh?” I was confused. “Does Lonie know?”

“Not yet. I told Ava to wait for me in the office with Lonie because I was coming home and going to clear the bungalow. She isn’t in there?” He looked at me funny. He took a step back and really took a good look at my face. “Don’t tell me you’ve done something.”

“Hank.” I tried to swallow the feeling that he was going to be really upset with me when he found out what I’d done. “I found the set of keys beyond the woods, tucked away in the root of a tree like someone put them there and was going to come back for them.”

“You did what?” He drew out the last word in his sentence as if he were trying to wrap his brain around what I’d done. “Mae. Where? When?”

“Over there.” I lifted my arm and pointed past the recreational building. “A couple hours ago.”

He sucked in a deep breath, pulling his emotions deep inside, and stalked across the campground with me tiptoeing silently behind him to give him some room so he could think.

“Where exactly?” he asked and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Here.” I had him follow me to the tree. He stood over me as I bent down to get the keys exactly where I’d put them. “They were here.”

Frantically, I shuffled the leaves around to see if maybe some critter had moved them, but the key ring wasn’t where I’d put it back.

“They were here. I swear.” I stood up, my eyes desperately searching the ground. “I didn’t see anyone come here.”

“Wait.” He put his hand out.

I stopped. A chill ran up my pants leg, along my spine, and landed goose bumps around my neck. I tugged the sweatshirt up.

“You put the keys back, without calling me, and you’ve been watching the tree to see if someone would come back for them?”

I lifted my chin up and slowly lowered it, curling my lips together so I wouldn’t say anything.

“You amaze me. Just amaze me. Why would you do that? Don’t you know this is tampering with evidence and I can arrest you?” He didn’t have to sound so hard. “Please tell me no one else knew about this.”

“Dottie, Ava, and Lonie.”

His eyes grew bigger and bigger with each name I said. His lips formed an O, and he let out a steady stream of breath.

“Who took them?” His brows were lifted. The anticipation of my answer to his question was written on his face.

“I didn’t see anyone.” I blinked in bafflement. “I honestly didn’t turn away until you came.” Then it hit me. “They must’ve come while we were talking. Just now.”

Hank jerked around and jumped into the woods, darting after whatever ghost took the keys.

“Psst! Psssst!”

I looked back toward the office where Dottie had her red head peeking around the corner of the building.

“Is it safe to come out?” she questioned.

I waved her over and noticed some of the guests had come out. Flames from around the campground were starting to flicker. The sound of laughter, a few hums of a lone guitar strumming off into the distance, and the echoes of chatter made me feel less vulnerable.

There was a lot of comfort to go around when the silence of sadness permeated the community in a campground. Maybe that was one reason why I loved living here so much. I’d spent the better part of my teenage years lonely.

Though Mary Elizabeth had tried everything to get me involved, the loss of my family was very loud at night. It was something that’d not gone away with any sort of relationship, even when I was married to Paul West. And even now with Hank.

It was an emotion I’d gotten good at pushing deep inside.

“Hey.” Dottie’s lit cigarette waved in front of my face, leaving a smoke trail in its wake. “You in there?”

“Yeah. The keys aren’t there.” I noticed a few of the car show participants were here. They were standing around one of the campfires, talking.

“What do you mean they aren’t there? Didn’t you put them back?” she asked and almost took a tumble when she leaned too far around me to see for herself.

“Yep. Gone.” My brows rose. “Hank said they found a set of keys in Hoss’s car at the car show.”

“This ain’t makin’ a lick of sense.” Dottie said exactly what I was thinking. “I didn’t see anyone go over to that tree.”

“Me either.” I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and excused myself. “I need to go talk to those men.”

“I bet Hank was mad.” Dottie snickered and shuffled away.

I would love to sit down next to the campfire and truly take in the clear and crisp autumn sky. The blue had faded into a light pink that flowed into a burnt orange, which was the leftover glow from the day’s sun. The mixture of colors on the trees danced in the wind, letting me know that soon the breeze would pick up and pluck each leaf off one by one, rolling deep into the winter months.

The crackle of the campfire along with the shadows of the dancing flames flickering on their faces created an eerie vibe that made my insides drop. Their faces were stern, their voices were low, and my gut told me they were discussing Wendell Holliday.

“Good evening,” I greeted them with my hands clasped behind my back. “I wanted to stop over and see if there’s anything y’all need?”

“Nope,” the group of men agreed in unison.

“You know I’m just right over there if you do.” I tucked a strand of my curly hair behind my ear and stalled for some time. I needed conversation. “Night or day.”

They all shook their heads.

“What are y’all drinking?” I noticed all of their tin coffee mugs.

“Coffee.” The man with the long beard and full facial hair held the mug out for me to see. “Would you like to join us?”

I smiled. “Yes. I’d love to.” I took his gesture and helped myself to one of the mugs next to the campfire. It pleased me to see they’d used the metal blue-and-white-speckled kettle that was provided for them in their camper, as well as the metal bar used for the kettle to hang over the fire.

There was some whispering going on between the men when I turned my back to fill my cup. I took my time. I wanted to give them space to allow them to open the door for me before I immediately questioned them about their interaction with Wendell Holliday.

“You know anything about Wendell?” The bearded guy must’ve been the ringleader, as he spoke up when I turned around, and all eyes were on me.

“I date the lead detective on the case.” I took a sip from the mug. “Good coffee,” I lied. It tasted like tar. But I had to enjoy every single drop so I could stand here and get some real answers to who Wendell Holliday really was.

“In fact, he lives right over there in that camper.” I pointed, and all of them turned.

“People live here year-round?” the lean, squirrelly guy of the group asked. And by squirrelly, I meant wiry hair, thin, tall, and suspicious.

“Just a few. We all love camping and decided to become full-time campers. It’s a great community, and everyone is so friendly.” I forced myself to take a sip and couldn’t help but wonder if the thick coffee was going to harden in my stomach, killing me. “He told me he’s on some leads to who could’ve done such a thing. Especially at a car show.”

I really wished I was able to get a good look at all of their eyes. But the sun had dipped below the mountainous background, leaving me with just the moon and the little glow from the lamp on the camper that left them with dark round circles, unreadable to me.

“I’d think this would be the perfect place,” Squirrelly Man spoke up and then shut up after Bearded Man nudged him.

It looked as though the nudge was supposed to be on the down low, but it was something I noticed, giving me a little boost of confidence in my ability to be a good sleuth.

“What he means is that Wendell had a way about him at these car shows.” The bearded man took a drink of the coffee.

I squinted, searching for a facial-feature contortion as the liquid slid down his throat. Nothing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so rude. I need to properly introduce myself.” I held out my hand. “I’m Mae West.”

“The owner here?” he asked, and I nodded. “We were expecting a blond bombshell, busty type.”

Mhmm. . . I pinched a smile, not saying a word. I was average size, which meant no heads turned when I walked by, and I had that curly mass of hair that was not going to be tamed tonight, due to the breeze.

“Sorry to disappoint.” I laughed and choked down another sip.

“I’m Lawson Melville.” He broke the ice, and I swear I saw him smile under that rug on his face.

We exchanged the pleasantries of “nice to meet you” and all that before I felt like I could respond to the statement about Wendell’s personality at the car shows.

“Why do you say Wendell was different?” I asked.

“I didn’t say different,” he corrected me. “I said had a way about him. He thought he was better than everyone.”

“Heck yeah. He did. He won every title from here clear down to Florida,” Squirrelly spoke up.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m talking about here.” Lawson used his cup to make a large circle gesture in front of him. “He’d never come out here and shoot the breeze.”

“Nah.” Squirrelly laughed. “If Teresa gave me the time, I’d be doing what Wend. . .”

Lawson did not make it subtle when he pushed Squirrelly.

“What he means is that a lot of women come to the show. They like gearheads.” Lawson snorted. “Like groupies.”

“Oh.” That was a bit of information. Uncomfortably, all of us took a drink at once. I was thankful for the darkness because I’d resorted to barely letting the nasty liquid touch my lips, pretending to sip at this point. “Was Wendell having an affair with this woman?”

I didn’t say her name, though I’d pressed it into my mind because I was definitely going to head to the car show tomorrow and look for her.

“What’s goin’ on over here?” Dottie couldn’t’ve walked up at a worse time. “I’m Dottie, the manager. I see here that you’ve met Mae.” She pointed to the coffee. “Can I get me a cup?”

“Sure,” Lawson agreed. “I’m Lawson. This is Dale.” His voice became distorted after I stopped listening and focused on the squirrely one he called Dale.

It was very clear that it was Dale who had the loosest lips of the group, and it was Dale that I would make sure to butter up. Plus, I took the time of introductions with all eyes off of me to quietly dump out the coffee.

“Well, thank you for the cup of coffee.” I lifted the empty cup up to my lips and pretended to take a last drink. “Ahhh.” I licked my lips. “Remember, if you need anything, let me know.” I looked at Dottie. “Are you ready?”

“I was just. . .”

I grabbed her arm and tugged her away.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dottie jerked her arm from my grip once we were out of earshot of the group. “You were rude. Don’t cost a nickel to be polite. And we want them to keep coming back.”

“I’ve got some information that might help with who killed Wendell.” That stopped her lips from flapping.

“What?” She and I quit walking and both peered at the group of men. They were back in their huddle.

“Apparently, the car show has a bunch of groupies called gearheads.” I wasn’t shocked when she told me that she already knew that. Of course she did. “And it seems there’s a Teresa that’s awfully fond of Wendell.”

“Really?” She gasped, and her eyes grew wide. “Is she here?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” I shrugged, and before I could take in another breath, Dottie had already marched back over to the group of men.

“Oh my gosh.” I shook my head and headed after her.

“Tell me about this Teresa,” she blurted out with her hand stuck on her newly replaced hip. When they all stared at her, she continued. “We are working for the detective, and we need your help with some clues. I’ll even throw in free camper fees while you’re here.”

“We don’t know nothing about it. Do we, boys?” Lawson took it upon himself to speak for all of them, and it worked.

They muttered in agreement and looked down at their coffee.

“So I guess we should be going to bed.” Lawson put his cup down on one of the firepit rocks then stretched his arms above his head, giving us the biggest and fakest yawn I’d ever seen.

Dottie and I stood there while they dispersed one by one until we finally gave up and walked away.

“I’m guessing they aren’t going to tell us.” Dottie snorted.

“No. I knew that, but you took the gumption to run right on. . .”

“Mae.” A quiet voice said my name. “I’ll tell you about Teresa.”

Dottie and I turned around and spotted a thin shadow near one of the campers we’d just passed.

“Spill it.” Dottie headed straight toward him. I followed behind her, noticing it was Dale the closer we got.

“Hi, Dale. I’m sorry for Dottie’s abrasiveness. We just really want to bring justice to Wendell. No one deserves to be murdered.” I decided to use the sensitive tactic because I could sense Dale had concerns.

“Mmhmm.” Dottie’s attitude told me she wasn’t happy with my strategy, and she started up another cigarette, which I figured she did to keep her mouth busy.

“Teresa has been a gearhead for a few years now. She got her claws into Wendell when Lonie wasn’t at a show, and it was hard for him to break away. We pulled in here to camp, and I was happy to see Lonie had come with him, figuring Wendell had stopped his. . . well. . .” He hesitated. “How do I put this lightly?”

“Affair?” Dottie didn’t wait for him to figure out how to say it.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dale frowned. “I hate to see any couple split up, but Lonie and Wendell are both only children in their family. They never had kids of their own. And they are just plain selfish. It never made them a good marriage. I’ve known Wendell since his first car show. Lonie was a gearhead back in those days, so I know she knows what’s been going on.”

“You mean she knows about Wendell’s affair with Teresa?” I asked point-blank.

“I didn’t say that.” He backtracked. “I do know she knows how these women carry on at these shows. Just go there tomorrow and watch. It’s a whole different part of the show that these men, not me, love to participate in.”

“No wonder these car shows are so popular,” Dottie said sarcastically, the smoke rolling out of her mouth.

“Teresa is here?” I asked.

“Not in Happy Trails, but I think she’s got a room at the Old Train Station. She drives a big car. I can’t think of the name, but when I see that license plate at a car show, I know she’s there.” He continued to shake his head.

“What about the license plate?” I asked.

“It’s got a big butterfly on it. She has a tattoo of a butterfly. She says it’s her spirit animal, whatever that means.” He looked up, and his eyes shot open. “And Wendell gave her a butterfly necklace that she never takes off.”

“Is that right?” Dottie looked at Dale before she slid her eyes to me then back to him. “Thank you, Dale. If you remember anything, you come on up to that first camper on the right when you drive in, and I’ll be there.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I couldn’t see his full face in the darkness, but I swear I saw a red tint glowing as he blushed. He scurried off back behind the campers.

“Well, well, well. I guess I did do somethin’ good by going back there and questioning them.” Dottie loved to pat herself on the back.

“And I was just hoping for some information from the group of men, not a motive for someone else to be considered a suspect to have killed Wendell Holliday.” I let the words fall out of my mouth and catch the nighttime breeze that flew past us.

Dottie and I called an emergency meeting of the Laundry Club Ladies, which was good for us since most times one of us had to stay back at the campground while the other went to the meeting. Not tonight.

“If I ruin a nail. . .” Queenie threatened and held up her freshly painted fingernails with the orange fingernail polish she’d painted on them to coordinate with her exercise clothes. “Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“No. I think we have a new suspect.” I handed Abby the notebook.

She flipped it open and started to jot down what Dottie and I were rambling off.

“I think we need to find the car with a butterfly. And it should be parked at the Old Train Station.” I began to clarify, “There are these groupies called gearheads. They are women who. . .”

“Travel to all the car shows.” Betts shrugged as if the news was no big deal. “Mae, I know you’re from Kentucky and moved, but car shows are huge here. Everyone knows about these women. It’s no different than groupies who follow their favorite bands.”

“I guess I just didn’t realize this since men who love cars tend to be all about the car.” I just couldn’t put it together.

“Gearheads are the best for these men.” Queenie windmilled her arms with her fingers spread far apart, apparently trying to dry the wet nails. “The men get to play with their cars. . .”

“Okay.” Betts stopped her from saying something a little too saucy. “We get the point.” Betts focused on me. “The men get the best of both worlds when they come to these shows.”

“Not all men.” Abby wanted to make it clear. “So what you’re saying is you found out Wendell had a gearhead on the side?”

“Yes. And her name is Teresa. I can’t help but wonder if she dropped Wendell off that night because she does have a butterfly on her license plate. I told Hank there was a butterfly, and he seemed to dismiss me because I didn’t get any license numbers.” I couldn’t believe that little detail had escaped my mind.

“When Teresa dropped him off, Lonie got mad and killed him,” Queenie blurted out.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m sure, but maybe he was dropped off too early? Someone was in there to get the keys, and that’s when Wendell came home. Wendell maybe saw the intruder, and after the intruder pushed Wendell and noticed Wendell hadn’t died, they finished him off by shooting him. And that’s the person we saw running into the woods.” I gestured between me and Dottie.

“And who placed the keys into the root of the tree so they could come back to get them. . .” Dottie’s voice trailed off. “Only, we don’t know who came back to get them once Mae put them back.”

“What?” Betts, Queenie, and Abby gasped at the same time.

“I’ve not yet been able to tell you what happened after Dottie and I went back to Happy Trails.” Dottie and I took turns telling them about Ava and Lonie, and how we’d collectively decided to put the keys back and keep watch.

“So you think when Hank was talking to you, the person took that opportunity to get the keys?” Abby asked. “Interesting.”

“I know that Teresa is staying at the Old Train, and she’s got a tattoo of a butterfly, a butterfly necklace given to her by Wendell, and a butterfly license plate.” I watched as Abby put the clues on the paper. “I also know that these men at the campground link her and Wendell Holliday together.”

“And we don’t think Lonie Holliday is a witness?” Betts asked.

“Not according to Ava, but we can keep her on there.” I didn’t mind looking into her, too, since she would be a wife scorned. Another good reason for murder. “I’m sure that’s why Hank questioned her a lot. The spouse is generally the number-one suspect, but Hank did tell me they found Wendell’s keys in Hoss’s car.”

“Then Hank does have it right about Hoss,” Abby noted. “I saw on social media that they’ve got a suspect in hand, and Violet Rhinehammer reported it as Hoss Asher.”

“Hank did tell me about Hoss, but I don’t know. I think I need to talk to Bobby Ray since he knows him from our past.” My phone started ringing, and I looked down. “It’s Hank.”

Immediately I answered it.

“What?” Dottie reached over and touched my leg.

“One of the campers is on fire.” I fumbled with my phone, unable to clearly think. “Hank said we need to come back.”

I would’ve loved to say the drive back to Happy Trails was a blur because my mind was trying to wrap around the camper that was on fire, but I let Dottie drive my car, and I was hanging on to the door handle for life.

“Oh my gosh.” I gasped when the flames of the fire could be seen from the main road. “Dear Lord, please please don’t let there be someone in the camper.”

“Now why you gonna talk like that?” Dottie swung the wheel to the right, causing me to hit my head against the window. “That there is what you call stinkin’ thinkin’, Mae West.”

I swear Dottie was driving so fast, all the gravel was spitting off the road.

“Slow down!” I screamed when it felt like she was pushing the pedal all the way down. “You’re going to hit someone.”

She brought the car to an abrupt stop and flung me forward.

“Sorry.” The corners of her eyes creased.

Without even thinking to respond, I jumped out of the car and noticed it was the camper Hoss Asher had been staying in. There was a fire truck that was pumping the water from the lake to try to put it out, but it was clear that the entire camper had gone up in flames. I could see right through the burnt-up camper. A shell on wheels was the only thing remaining, and even those were quickly melting.

My mind rolled back to the memories of me standing in the front yard of my family home. The fire unfurling out of the windows. I stood there all alone. I could even feel the chill on the tops of my feet like I did that horrible night. The hem of my nightgown grazed my shins a couple of times by the light breeze, which seemed to have fueled the flames even more, sort of like the gentle blow campers did when they first started their campfires. The one that would slowly get the flame started before more wood was put on.

The flames danced and shot out of my parents’ window. I had searched for them, but it was so dark that I knew if I stayed right there that at any moment they would find me.

If you are lost, stay put. That was exactly what my mom would tell me as a child when we would go somewhere. Not that we went a lot of places because we had little money for extra things, but Daddy always took us to the county fair. That was when Mama would tell me that if I got lost from them due to the crowd to stay put.

Honk! Honk!

The blare of another firetruck forced me out of the nightmare the fire reminded me of, and I jumped out of the way so it didn’t hit me.

“Mae.” Hank’s voice was like a warm blanket curling around my shaking body. “You’re shaking.”

He took off his coat and wrapped it around me.

“Let’s get you inside.” He tried to turn me away from the burning camper, but my legs felt like they were cemented to the ground. “Honey, please,” he begged me, like I had some sort of control over myself.

“I. . .” I gulped back the tears. “I didn’t know my family was in the house. I stood there. Doing nothing.”

“Mae.” Hank’s voice was calm. “Let’s go into the office and sit down.”

Everything around me went black as night.

Chapter 12

“I think she just needs some space and time.”

“I think she needs to see a therapist.”

“You know she ain’t talked about it since.”

“She didn’t talk about it at all when she was growing up. I tried. I really did.”

“How many siblings?”

“It was her and two sisters and a brother. One of the sisters was a baby.”

A baby. How did I forget the baby?

The murmurs of voices trailed down the small hallway of my camper. The only thing I could figure was the Laundry Club Ladies and Mary Elizabeth had come to stay with me after I remembered what had happened and how I must’ve fainted.

I rolled over and peeled the blinds apart.

The morning fog swept along the lake. My eyes grazed across the top and focused on the shell of the camper that once stood there. It was still smoldering. The faces of the pumpkins smiled at me from the front of the sizzling camper, laughing in my face that they hadn’t been touched by the flames.

There was a light scratch at my door. Fifi must’ve heard me roll over. I bet she’d been outside of the bedroom door all night just waiting for me to move.

“I think she’s up.”

“Shh. We don’t want her to hear us.”

“What about callin’ a doctor? I’m tellin’ y’all, she needs a doctor.”

There was a light rap on the door.

“Mae, honey.” Mary Elizabeth’s tone was cautious. “It’s Mary Elizabeth. Can I come in?”

“Yes, Mom.” I wanted her to call herself Mom. She was my mom too.

The door opened. Mary Elizabeth stood facing me while the heads of Betts, Abby, Queenie, and Dottie popped up behind her shoulders.

“Was Hoss Asher in the camper?” It was the only question I wanted answered.

“Well. . .” Mary Elizabeth bit her lip. Her brows furrowed.

My chin fell to my chest. A brick hit my gut when I realized the look on her face told me he was in there.

“Move!” I screamed, jumping out of the bed and shoving past them like a linebacker with the game-winning run to cross the touchdown line. Only my goal was to make it to the toilet to let whatever contents were left in my stomach out.

“Told ya she needs a doctor.” Dottie wasn’t good at whispering.

“Just give her some space. Now you all go on, and I’ll talk to her.” Mary Elizabeth had taken over.

None of them seemed to have protested, though I couldn’t see their body language. I waited in the bathroom until I heard the footsteps walking past the bathroom and the camper door shutting.

“It’s just me and you now.” Mary Elizabeth pecked on the bathroom door. “I got you a water.”

I stood up on wobbly legs and opened the bathroom door.

Mary Elizabeth’s gaze was clouded with tears.

“Oh, Mom.” I found some comfort in her embrace. Her loving hand ran down my hair, her hum of comfort telling me that we would figure it out.

I was so happy she didn’t tell me it was going to be okay, because it wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. From the death of Wendell Holliday to the fire of the camper, and I didn’t even know the status of Hoss, but the memories of my family home fire had been brought to the surface.

The camper fire was the scab to the wound I’d never let heal. Maybe it was time. Maybe Dottie was right. I needed to see a doctor. There were so many maybes that I didn’t have the strength or the clear head to even come up with some possible solutions, if there were solutions at all.

“Let’s get you to the couch.” Mary Elizabeth held the glass up to my lips for me to take a sip then led me down the short hall.

“I forgot about Jenna.” I remembered my baby sister’s name. “I can’t believe I forgot about her.”

“You didn’t forget. You had it tucked right here.” Mary Elizabeth pointed to my heart. “Dottie suggested that you go see someone. Maybe you need to talk all of this out once and for all.”

“I’ll think about it.” I knew I needed help, but so did Wendell Holliday. He was my first priority since his murder did take place in the campground. “What happened to Hoss?”

“We can talk about this later.” Mary Elizabeth tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and grabbed my hands for me to lift them to my mouth and take a drink of water. “You drink.”

“He died, didn’t he?” Deep down, I already knew the answer to my own question. “Was it murder?”

“Honey, please.” She sighed, hoping I’d give up.

“You know I’m not going to stop until I know the answers, so you might as well save me the stress.” I eased up on the edge of my little couch and turned to look at her.

“Hank thinks it’s arson. He said the fire marshal’s preliminary finding was gasoline had been doused all over the outside of the camper and around the bottom. Also, there was a stick in the door handle, and the handle on the outside of the camper had a piece of metal through it, so anyone who tried to get in couldn’t get the door open.”

Her words made my heart drop. I felt my face flush.

“Drink.” Her voice grew louder. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“I need to know what’s going on in my campground. It’s the present. I can’t live in the past and relive what happened to my family. I have to live here and now.” I got up and strode into the bathroom, finding myself standing in the shower with the hot water running over my face and soaking the clothes I still had on.

Chapter 13

“I don’t think this is a good idea. I mean, I told Mary Elizabeth, and I swore to Hank that we wouldn’t do this anymore.” Betts Hager had gone all soft on me. Her deep-set eyes told me she was anxious about me even bringing it up. Nervously, she gnawed on her bottom lip and fiddled with a strand of her long wavy brown hair. In a soft voice, she said, “You said on the phone that you needed to go to the store. That’s why I came to pick you up.”

“Betts. Out of all of our friends, you are the one who keeps the best secrets. I can count on you to help me. I have to talk to this Teresa Hurt.”

I’d called Betts after I had convinced Mary Elizabeth I was fine, and I’d let her know if I needed her.

“But this is exactly what I told Hank I wouldn’t do,” Betts muttered uneasily.

“Really? Look at me. I’m fine. Whoever killed Wendell killed Hoss and burnt down my cute camper. And you’re here. Out of all the Laundry Club Ladies, you’d be the first one to go get help. I give you permission to call Hank if something goes wrong.” I peered out the window once Betts entered downtown. “Thank you,” I whispered when she passed through and headed north where the Old Train Station was located.

“There!” I bounced up and down in the seat of her cleaning van when I saw the car parked in front of the Old Train Station motel room number eight. “That’s the butterfly license plate.”

“The one you think you saw at the campground the night Wendell died?” she asked.

“And the one I think Teresa Hurt has on her car. Not to mention a tattoo of a butterfly and a butterfly necklace given to her by Wendell Holliday.”

“I think we just need to dust and vacuum room number eight.” Betts threw the gear shift in place and glanced over at me with raised brows.

“Now you’re talking my language.” I smiled and hopped out of the van to meet Betts in the back, where the double doors would open up to all her cleaning supplies.

“Betts?” Coke Ogden, the owner of the Old Train Station, had walked around to the back of the van just as we were pulling out a bucket of cleaning supplies for each of us. “Did I have you on the schedule to clean?” Coke asked.

Her blond hair was perfectly curled up at the ends. Whenever I saw Coke, she reminded me of a blond version of Marlow Thomas from the old show Mary Elizabeth used to watch when I was little.

Betts turned around and, with huge eyes, started to stammer.

Coke’s eyes flashed as she waited for an answer. Her thin nose was pointy, and her lips were thin and tucked in while she waited for Betts’s response.

“We’ve not had nearly enough coffee today.” I patted Betts on the back. “She did say we had some rooms to clean, right?”

Betts was not good at telling a little white lie. It was probably on her calendar to clean, so that wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t on the calendar to clean this day.

“I saw it on her calendar.” I smiled and shrugged as I reached for the cleaning bucket. There was no way I was going to leave without talking to Teresa or snooping around.

“Yes.” Betts cleared her throat and pointed to me.

“Honey, is the changing weather getting to your chest again?” Coke put her hand on Betts’s back. “I’ll be. I’m going to run up to the café and get you a honey herbal tea. You don’t need to clean today. Isn’t that right, Mae?”

“I. . . we. . .” Hm. . . I tried to come up with a solution.

“Why don’t Mae go on and clean while you come with me.” Coke’s suggestion made Betts light up like the back end of a firefly. It was perfect. This way, she didn’t have to do any tall telling.

Betts nodded and smiled. Coke curled her arm around Betts’s shoulders and walked with her toward the motel’s restaurant, which was up near the middle of the building, just inside of the atrium.

“Just as well.” I grunted and picked up the bucket.

I shut Betts’s van doors and set the bucket on the ground. I snapped a photo of the butterfly license plate and sent it to Hank in a text letting him know that this might be the car I’d seen that night driving away. This way, it would make everyone happy with me sending some information to Hank to check out while I was able to snoop.

Betts had extra keys to all the rooms since it was her job. With my bucket in hand, I opened Betts’s driver’s-side door to retrieve the keys from the console where she kept them, as well as the other keys from her various clients.

I walked up to door number eight and knocked. When there wasn’t any movement, I knocked again, this time a little louder.

“Housekeeping,” I said and put an ear to the door.

I jumped back when the couple in the motel room next door came out of their room.

“If you don’t mind, we’d like to have a few extra towels.” The woman passed by me to let me know.

“I will. Thank you.” I smiled and knew I had to make a mental note to tell Coke, because that was not my job or Betts’s. She only cleaned for Coke, and Coke did all the special little touches that made staying at the Old Train Motel a unique experience.

“Housekeeping.” I fumbled with the key ring until I found the one with the number eight written on it with a black sharpie. “Housekeeping,” my voice trilled as I opened the door to peek in.

The room was dark, but there was a little strip of sun filtering through the curtains, showing me there wasn’t anyone in the bed. I opened the door a little more and listened for any noise in the bathroom. I gave it a count to fifteen. Hearing nothing, I flipped on the light switch just inside of the door and took a couple steps inside. The bed was on the far-right wall with a bedside table to the right. There was a television stand with a refrigerator combo and piece of furniture in front of the bed. Each room had a nice big walk-in closet for guests that Coke had specifically custom built for hikers’ equipment, which tended to be larger backpacks than normal.

“Messy,” I said, noticing Teresa Hurt didn’t use the closet. Her clothes were thrown all over the floor as well as the comforter on the bed. The side table was filled with open snack-sized potato chip bags and empty candy wrappers.

From the bucket, I pulled the roll of garbage bags out. I might as well do what Betts normally did while I nosed around. It was for good measure in case Teresa did come back anytime soon.

I walked around and picked up the trash and, at the same time, tried to see if there was anything on the surface without digging around. The bathrooms were so pretty with the marble grey-and-white counters and gray flooring. Only this bathroom counter had a thin film of makeup and sticky hair spray. The floor was covered with strands of brown hair. Plus, there were cigarette ashes in the sink. Didn’t she know these were nonsmoking rooms?

“You obviously have brown hair.” I bent down and picked up a big hair ball and put it into the garbage bag. “You must wear a ton of makeup.”

When I stood back up, the overflowing trash can grabbed my attention. I dumped the contents into the garbage bag and watched as makeup containers tumbled out. It wasn’t just any old makeup. Teresa Hurt had a fine taste in the name brands that were only in big-city department stores.

I reached in and took out a tube of lipstick and rolled it up. It was a nice shade of orange mixed with red that would make a good summer color.

The click of the door handle made me throw it back into the bag and flush the toilet so if it was Teresa, she’d think I was cleaning the bathroom.

“Housekeeping,” I turned my head over my shoulder and hollered.

“I didn’t ask for any housekeeping.” A woman with long—and I mean very long—straight hair that she could easily tuck in the waistband of her pants entered. She had leathery skin that had cracked. I could only imagine it was from not using enough skin protection from all of these car shows she liked to flaunt around, but the lipstick caught my attention.

“Midnight Rain.” I brought my hand to my lips and gulped. “You’re wearing Midnight Rain lipstick.”

“Yes.” She let out a long sigh and took off the coat. My eyes went directly to the butterfly necklace. It had to be the butterfly necklace. “I guess I can go smoke.” She opened the desk drawer and took out her cigarettes.

“I noticed ashes in the sink.” My head was wondering why on earth her lips were covered in the same lipstick I’d found at the charred camper. “There’s no smoking in here.”

Lipstick, lighter. . . Teresa Hunt was having an affair with Wendell Holliday, and I bet he denied her this week while Lonie was here. But did he get a ride back with her that night? Why was she at the campground? How did she get in the bungalow to kill him? Or if Teresa and Wendell did have an argument, did Lonie not hear it?

All the things that’d happened kept popping up.

“Are you not listening to me?” Teresa asked and put her hand on her small hip. She was only about five foot nothing and no bigger than a cake of soap. She was so small. “I said I’m not smoking in here. It was from a cup of water I’d been ashing in outside and dumping it in the sink.”

“Why were you at Wendell Holliday’s bungalow at Happy Trails the night he was killed?” I blurted it out.

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes became flat, unreadable.

“And a tube of that same lipstick you’re wearing was found at the burned-down camper of Hoss Asher.” My eyes lowered. “Don’t you move.” I pointed a finger at her when she went to open the desk drawer again.

The butterfly tattoo Dale had told me about was visible on her arm that her coat had covered up.

“I saw you speeding off that night. I know you and Wendell are having an affair at these car shows.” I grabbed a hairbrush, not really knowing what to use as a weapon when I walked toward her.

“Are you going to brush me to death?” She laughed.

“No. I’m calling the detective on the case.” I jutted the end of the brush at her. “Sit down on that messy bed.”

Slowly, I eased my way around her after she sat down and walked backwards toward the door with my eye on her. I opened the door for an easy escape just in case she pulled some sort of move on me.

With one eye on her, I took out my phone from my back pocket.

“Call Hank,” I told the phone and waited for it to dial.

“Hey, what’s up?” He was so jovial and cheerful. That was about to fade really fast. “I got your text. I ran the plates, and it belongs to a Teresa Hurt.”

“I’ve got her here at the Old Train Station room eight,” I told him. Teresa shifted and groaned, not too worried about going to prison for murder. “I also have a tube of her lipstick I found at the burned-out camper. Well, the lipstick is actually at the lost and found in Happy Trails office, but I can get it. I think she needs to be questioned because she was having an affair with Wendell Holliday. I have witnesses.”

“Mae, what are you doing?” he asked just as calmly as could be.

“She’s holding me hostage, and I’m going to press charges!” Teresa screamed.

“Shhh.” I jutted the end of the brush at her.

“She’s using a brush as a weapon!” Teresa hollered.

“Just get here!” I pushed the end button and narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t you move. You stay right here until Detective Sharp gets here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She pointed her finger at me and swirled it around. “It’s you going to the pokey, and I’m going to call the front desk about you.”

She got up from the bed. I danced side to side in front of the door so she didn’t get past me. It wouldn’t be long for Hank to get here, and I could take that skinny little woman if I had to.

She picked up the phone and punched a button.

“This is Teresa Hurt in room eight. I’ve got an intruder here that claims she’s with housekeeping.” She stopped talking. “Are you Mae West?” she asked with a snort.

“Yes, I am,” I stated proudly.

“I think she needs to be fired. I caught her going through my things, and now she’s called the law on me for my lipstick,” she flat-out lied, sort of.

“I called the law on you because you killed Wendell Holliday,” I blurted.

She slammed down the receiver of the phone.

“I did not kill Wendell.” Her eyes darted at me with fire deep inside them. It made me wonder if she would be able to leap on me like a spider monkey and take me down. “Who do you think you are, coming in here and accusing me of all sorts of wrongdoings? You have no idea what is going on.”

“Then you just wait to tell Detective Hank when he gets here.” I swayed back and forth in front of the door, worried she was going to run past me. She was much older than me, but she seemed to be in shape.

“I thought it was Detective Sharp?” she asked through a hardened voice.

“Ladies.” Coke grabbed our attention when she reached the door. “What is going on here, Mae?”

“I was. . .” I stalled like Betts had earlier.

A car drove up, and I could see through the open door that it was Hank pulling into the spot next to the van. He didn’t have to take his sunglasses off for me to see he wasn’t happy. The tensed jawline and thin lips told me.

“Before you say anything, let me tell you what I know.” I hurried over to him once he neared the room.

“Are you Detective Hank?” Teresa Hurt stood outside of room eight and lit up her cigarette.

“I’ll be with you in one second, ma’am,” Hank told her with a smile, but when he looked at me, the smile dropped back to a thin line. “You’ve gone and got yourself in a real pickle this time.”

He looked over to where Coke and Betts were standing.

“Were you in on this little investigation?” he asked Betts.

“I told her that I promised you, but she. . .” Betts glared at me. “I needed to clean, and I’m not feeling well, so she did it.”

“Really, that’s not what happened, but let’s talk about this.” I reached out to touch his arm, but he moved it away, so I kept talking. “I saw her car that night. That’s the butterfly license plate. You asked me that out of all the things for me to remember, it was that. Well, here it is.” I pointed to the car. “It puts her at the crime scene. She sped off. Me and Dottie saw it. Why was she there?”

Hank sucked in a deep breath and took his sunglasses off. Even if he was mad, I felt safe, and I knew I could tell him everything because he’d get to the bottom of it. When he didn’t stop me from talking, I knew I had his ear.

“Also, some of the guests at Happy Trails told me Wendell and Teresa were having an affair. They get together at car shows, and usually Lonie doesn’t come. Lonie told me that herself.” I gave him a hard nod, making my curls fall forward. I tucked some hair behind my ear. “And I think Hoss Asher knew, and he was going to tell. She went there and dropped her lipstick on the ground, not knowing because she told me her lipstick shade when I was cleaning.”

His eyes softened as if he were going to tell me to stop lying.

“I was cleaning. You should see the hair balls I picked up.”

“Finish your story.” He shifted his weight.

“Anyways, I found the same lipstick at the burned-out camper. It’s a high-dollar lipstick. I knew it right off the bat. It’d not been there long because there wasn’t any sort of dampness on it from the rain since the last guests stayed there.” I made motions like I was holding a lipstick. “With all the rain we had, there’d have been some water around the edges where the cap goes on the tube.”

He rolled his hand for me to continue. His patience seemed to be growing thin.

“She smokes. She has a lighter, and she started the fire with Hoss inside because he was going to rat her out as a suspect, which would lead to an arrest.” I clasped my hands in front of me and stood there pretty proud of the clues I’d put together.

“Honey, you’re right about one thing.” She dropped the cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with her shoe into smithereens. Coke rushed over and picked it up. “Wendell and I were an item for a long time. I broke it off with him months ago and had been dating Hoss Asher.”

“You killed them both?” Betts asked.

“Let her finish.” Hank put his hand out.

“I got a note from Lonie to come see her at the campground.” Teresa held up a finger for us to hold on, and she went inside of her motel room, bringing back the note. She handed it to Hank. “I drove over there to see her. I didn’t see Wendell’s car, so I parked and got out. The door to their bungalow was cracked. I called her name out, but she didn’t answer. Wendell mentioned all the time that she takes sleeping pills and never hears anything. So I pushed the door open a little more, and when I did, the lights from around the campground shone in. I saw Wendell on the floor with blood gushing from him. I didn’t want to be involved in whatever it was that happened to him, so I jumped back in my car and left.”

“Did you tell Lonie you were coming over at that late hour?” Hank asked and looked at the note.

“No. I had just found the note under the door here and went on over.”

“What about Hoss?” he asked.

“I just can’t believe it. I’ve been going over to the campground at night and leaving in the morning. He’s been driving me back and forth. I guess I dropped the lipstick on our way out when he dropped me off here. He said he was going to go back and get some sleep before his long day here at the car show.” Her voice cracked. “It was the last time I’d seen him.”

“Aren’t you a little old for him?” I asked.

“Age is a number.” She poked me in the chest.

“Ouch.” I jerked back. “Don’t you put a finger on me,” I warned.

“I want her arrested.” Teresa stomped her foot.

“For what? Figuring out that you killed two people?” I wasn’t about to back down now that I was surrounded by people and thought myself safe.

“I didn’t kill. . .” Her skinny little body took a couple of steps toward me, and Hank stopped her.

“Ms. Hurt.” His detective charm spilled out of his mouth. “Can I get you to come down to the station to get some fingerprints?”

“Sure you can, but I didn’t do nothing wrong.” She shook her head, her mouth slightly open, her tongue across her teeth like she was biting her tongue from saying anything else.

“We just need to get a formal statement and fingerprints.” He gave her that southern gentleman smile. “I’ll bring you right back.”

“Fine. Let me get my purse.”

“Wait,” I said. “If you didn’t kill Wendell or Hoss, who did?”

“If you figure out that million-dollar question, maybe you should be a detective instead of a cleaning lady.” She turned, and her long hair swung around before it cascaded down her back as she sauntered into the motel room to get her purse.

“I’ll deal with you tonight.” Hank put his sunglasses back on his face and waited next to his passenger door, opening it up for Teresa Hurt.

“Betts and I are going back to her tea,” Coke said. “Be sure to tie up the garbage bags real tight because the raccoons have been getting into the dumpster.”

Betts glanced back at me when she and Coke were halfway down the sidewalk, heading back to the motel café. She smiled, knowing the last thing I wanted to do was to finish cleaning room eight.

Chapter 14

The last thing I wanted to do was have supper with Hank tonight, only for the fact that he would definitely tell me how he didn’t like me interfering with his investigation. According to my time, there was still a good hour or so until he got home, which gave me a few more minutes to come up with how I would respond to him when he did bring it up.

There was still a question on my mind, and that was the note Teresa had said Lonie had left under her door. It was awfully convenient how Lonie had left out that little tidbit.

“Let’s go for a walk, Fifi,” I said after I peeled back the kitchen blinds and observed Lonie’s bungalow, where she and Ava were standing outside.

Fifi was all too happy to play in my decision to use the excuse that she needed a walk so I could go over there and see what had happened or what they were doing.

“Wait a second.” I snapped my fingers at Fifi because she was scratching at the door. Apparently, I wasn’t quick enough pulling on my sweatshirt and putting on my tennis shoes. “You need a coat too.”

It was early evening when the sun was starting to go down, and the autumn air was crisp. Even though Mary Elizabeth told me growing up that I would catch a cold if I didn’t put a sweater on, and I knew it was a parent thing to do, I still did what she said to this day. Poor Fifi had to follow the rule too.

Fifi had her own wardrobe of sweaters with various designs on them. I pulled the bottom drawer out from underneath the passenger captain’s chair and quickly rooted through them, finally settling on the one with the cute pumpkins.

Fifi loved dressing up, and I was sure it was because she’d been used to that with her previous owner when Fifi was a show dog.

“There.” I ran my hand along the top of the sweater once I’d put it on her to flatten out any wrinkles. “You are so cute.”

She danced around and then sat down at my feet once I had her leash in hand.

“You never know what’s out there.” I warned her about the nighttime critters like she understood me.

Fifi’s yip caught Ava and Lonie’s attention, making it a good reason for me to go over there once they waved.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Hank said Lonie could come get her stuff.” Ava ran her hand down Lonie’s arm. “So we decided to come over together before she leaves.”

“You’re leaving town?” I asked.

“Yes.” Lonie blinked rapidly, holding back the flood of tears piling up. “Detective Sharp released Wendell’s body, and I’m ready to take him back home. Well. . .” She lifted a hand to her chest. “I’m not taking him home. We are having him. . .” She started to choke up.

“I understand.” I offered a sympathetic smile.

“Excuse me.” She sniffled and wiped away a tear. “I want to be all packed and ready to go so when they come to get Wendell’s car, I can follow them home tomorrow.”

“I guess Hank told her about Teresa Hurt,” I said to Ava after Lonie had gone back inside.

“Wendell Holliday wasn’t ever really faithful to Lonie. If it wasn’t a woman, he was spending time with his cars.” Ava shook her head. “I think I might’ve found my niche, to represent women.”

“Is that right?” I still couldn’t believe Ava Cox had decided to move to Normal. “How is the house?”

“I was going to see if you gals would like to come over tomorrow and help me paint.” She smiled and put her hands together. “Please. It’s not like y’all have a lot to do. With the car show over and this appears to be resolved, it’s back to life as usual.”

“I’m sorry if you don’t think we have a life.” I gestured around the campground. “I’ve got to get all of these campers and bungalows cleaned.” Just looking at the burned-out camper made my heart sink. “I have to get that cleaned up too.”

“I just can’t believe it.” Ava shook her head. “Hoss Asher killed Wendell, and then someone killed him. That’s what Hank and the department are trying to figure out now.”

“What?” I asked. “Hank isn’t too happy with me because I snooped around about Teresa Hurt.”

“We had one last interview today with Hank. He said the gun was registered to Hoss Asher. Not only that, but when they did go and look through Hoss’s car at the car show, they found Wendell’s keys in the car. Hank believes Hoss was angry about not selling the car to him like they’d talked about way back when, and that night Hoss waited for him to come back to the campground. He got his gun and his silencer, waited for Wendell to come back, and killed him while Lonie was sleeping.”

“I just can’t believe she didn’t hear a thing.” I sucked in a deep breath and let the cool air slide down into my lungs. It felt so good to have clean air to clear the confusion in my mind.

“Hank had her take a blood test to prove she had taken the sleeping pills like she said.” Ava rolled her eyes. “It’s a shame that people’s words don’t count for much these days.”

“Not when a murder is involved.” Both of us turned around when a car pulled up around the lake. “There’s Hank now.”

Fifi knew it was him too. She darted his way, but the retractable leash stopped her. Hank gave a slight wave with a free hand while his other hand had his phone up to his ear.

“He said they believe Hoss killed Wendell, and now they are focusing on the fire.” Her words caused me to look back over the camper Hoss had died in.

Images of the fire danced in my head. Before too long, the image turned into the little house I grew up in. I could see myself standing in my pajamas, barefooted and watching the flames shoot out of the windows.

I jerked when I recalled the sound of the glass popping out, releasing the flames.

“Mae.” Ava said my name and brought me out of my horrid memory. “Are you okay?”

“Since Hoss didn’t have an alibi, I guess it all adds up.” I played off the memory the best I could. It was something I had never ever wanted to visit, but it was obviously being forced back after what had happened to Hoss. “There just seemed to be something off. There was no denying the factual evidence, which made Hank’s scenario plausible.”

“I’m not sure about all of that. I’m just glad I was here to help out Lonie, which brings me back to painting. Can you come over and help?” she asked.

“I’ll call the gals and see what I can do.” I gestured to Hank as he got out of his car. “I guess I better go and listen to my lecture now.”

“You?” She laughed. “I bet you’ll be lecturing him by the time the night is over.”

“I’ll call you.” I made a few clicks of my tongue to get Fifi’s attention since she’d already found a new smell.

The campfires were starting to dot the outskirts of the lake. It was the last night before the guests staying here from the car show left tomorrow. It was too bad this had to happen.

“There’s my girls.” Hank opened his arms and bent down. Fifi always had to be loved on first or she’d wear you out.

I stood there, waiting for my turn while he gave her some rubs and pats. Eventually, he stood up.

“And you, young lady.” He shook a finger.

“Go on. Tell me I was wrong about Teresa Hurt not only killing Wendell Holliday but also killing Hoss after both of them rejected her.” Wait, Hoss did have an alibi. “Teresa Hurt.”

“What?” His shoulders slumped, his chin dipped, and he looked at me from underneath his brow. “I know that look.”

“Teresa Hurt was Hoss Asher’s alibi. She was with him that night, according to her. I have that lipstick, and you might not think it’s a big deal, but it wasn’t a bit wet on the outside, so it wasn’t there during the rains, which meant it was dropped that night because the night before, it rained like a Georgia flood.” The theory spun in my head. “Hoss had to know she did it.”

“She didn’t do it. We have security camera footage from the Cookie Crumble of her driving from the Old Train Motel through town at the time of death that Colonel Holz placed Wendell’s death. She gave me the note Lonie had slipped under her door at the motel. We also have the same camera footage of her coming back just as quickly as she said she did. That means she didn’t stop at Hoss’s that night.” He curled me into his arms and hugged me tight. Fifi’s leash dangled from my grip with the retractable leash pulled all the way out as she took the opportunity to go as far as she could. “Speaking of security cameras, did you get the ones here fixed?”

“Yes. It was a simple fix.” I sighed, gnawing on what he was telling me while letting him hug me. “But I just can’t believe Hoss would kill him.”

“Honey, I’ve seen it all. People kill over the dumbest things.” He rested his chin on the top of my head. “You need to let this go. Leave the rest in my hands, especially the fire.”

“Is that why you’re not fussing at me?” I peered up at him.

“I can see it on your face that the fire has brought back a lot of your family memories. I don’t want you to go through that.” He kissed my nose, and I took a step back. “Maybe you need to go see a therapist so you can deal with this once and for all.”

“Oh my goodness.” My jaw dropped. “Mary Elizabeth has gotten to you about this.”

“She might’ve called me, but I agree with her. You’ve not dealt with your past, and you did say you had some nightmares about it recently.” His hand dropped away from me when I jerked away.

“I’m fine. I want to know who burnt down my camper.” I jerked Fifi’s leash. “Are you hungry?” I asked because I desperately wanted to change the subject. “I’m making skillet cilantro chicken.” I knew it was one of his favorites.

“I am hungry, but I’m more worried about you.” He wasn’t going to drop it, so I was just going to have to ignore him about that subject.

That was why I decided to continue to riddle him with more questions about the investigation. “Ava told me you found Wendell’s keys in Hoss’s car.” I reeled Fifi in and walked with Hank to the door of the camper he was renting.

“I think he took them the night he killed Wendell and put them in there, thinking it was safekeeping.” He fiddled with his key ring until he found his camper key. “He was startled when Teresa came over, possibly thinking she was there to have some sort of relations with Wendell. He took off behind the campers and stashed the keys there so he could come get them later.”

“He did know I was putting the keys back where they were stashed in the tree because when I went to go do it, he and Bobby Ray were leaving. I told them what I was doing.” I had forgotten all about that, which left little room in my theory that maybe Hoss didn’t kill Wendell.

Hank opened the door, and Chester ran out, greeting Fifi before he made his way over to me and then Hank. Chester didn’t run off like Fifi did unless Hank had him sniffing something down.

“I’ll take the dogs back with me while you change.” I patted my leg for Chester to come, and he did. Fifi, Chester, and I walked away from Hank’s camper, and I decided to take the road back instead of in the grass.

“So you’re going to drop this whole thing about the investigation?” he questioned me. I stopped, and he gave me a sideways look.

“I guess.” I shrugged, not making any sort of promise, since I still needed to go over all of it in my head. I took a couple of steps forward and tried to keep my mouth shut, but I just couldn’t. “But who burnt down my camper?” I asked, halting in the middle of the road.

“That I’m not sure about.” He glanced over where Ava and Lonie were bringing out bags to load in Lonie’s car. He moved a little closer to me and the dogs. “His body was found next to the door like he was trying to get out.”

My heart sank. I swallowed hard.

“When did you say those security cameras were up and running?” Hank questioned and snapped his fingers. “I wonder if someone was caught on it that night? Do you mind if we get a look at the footage tomorrow?” He checked his phone. “It’s just too late tonight.”

“Of course you can. Now go and get changed. We are starving.”

Fifi and Chester were ready to eat. I filled their bowls up with kibble and freshened up their water. I knew if they had full bellies, they’d sleep a little after they ate while Hank and I enjoyed a nice fall supper outside.

The picnic table was set with Mary Elizabeth’s fancy tablecloth. I’d already stacked up the wood on the campfire. I’d brought out the food and spices so I could get started on the chicken.

“Let’s get it out of the way.” I walked over to the storage that was accessible from the outside of the camper and grabbed a couple of the empty toilet paper rolls I used to create my perfect fire starter that was not only good for recycling the paper rolls but also environmentally friendly to the campground. “Go on. I’m ready for you to fuss.”

“I’m not going to fuss.” He smiled and sighed. He used the long lighter to light the rolls once I’d placed them on the wood. “I think you realized this was a little too much for you to snoop around in, and it was good old detective work that brought closure to Wendell’s death. If I could only figure out what happened to Hoss.”

He placed the lighter on the picnic table on the way back to get himself a beer from the cooler next to my camper. He plugged in the clear party lights I had strung all over my camper awning. They made the camper look so festive and cozy.

I sat down in one of the camping chairs and tucked a cover on top of my legs after I’d pulled them up underneath me. Once the fire got really hot, I’d start making our supper in the cast-iron skillet. I’d decided on cooking chicken with cilantro since it was quick and easy.

“I just can’t help but think about the lipstick.” I shook my head, hoping to rattle the thought out of my mind. “Ava told me about Lonie taking the prescription because I think it’s so odd she didn’t hear him fall.”

“It was hard for me to believe, too, but she said she’d take a test to prove the pills were in her system, and I took her up on the offer. She knew about his affairs, and she loves her lifestyle.” Both of us glanced over. Her little Mercedes was packed, and there was a flicker of light coming through the bungalow window.

“She does have a cute car.” I placed the skillet on the hot grate over the campfire and drizzled some olive oil onto it. Immediately, the oil sizzled. “Who won the show?” I asked.

“Wendell’s old caddy.” Hank shook his head and brought the bottle up to his lips. “It is a pretty sweet ride. Plus, the winnings are fifteen thousand dollars. Crazy money.”

“Maybe we need to get into fixing up old cars instead of campers,” I teased, putting the chicken in the skillet.

I eased down in the chair so I could enjoy a drink with Hank. The campfire was nice and low, perfect for cooking. The blue flames mingled with the orange flames, creating a nice long red glow flickering at the top.

I observed the blaze and gazed through it, taking in the spotlight the dusk was playing on Hoss’s camper.

My feet began to tingle. The feeling of something sweeping along the top of my foot caught my attention, but when I looked down, I still had my shoes on. Immediately, I knew it was me remembering how it felt the night I was standing in front of my family home. The grass pricking the bottoms of my bare feet. The slight breeze tumbling across the yard as it brushed the hem of my pajamas across my shin.

“You know. . .” My voice cracked. “I don’t remember leaving my house the night it burned down.”

He sat there, staring at me. Listening to me. Letting me talk.

“Isn’t it weird that the only thing I remember is standing in our front yard, watching the house go up in flames?” I shook my head. A tear fell from my cheek. “Maybe I do need therapy.”

Chapter 15

Hank was pretty sure that Wendell’s killer was Hoss Asher. After all, he’d had a beef with Wendell for years, coming in second place after all these car competitions where the money was a huge factor, and pile on top of that the fact that Wendell told Hoss he’d sell the classic Cadillac to him when he clearly had no intentions of doing so. Then there was the weapon. The gun was registered to Hoss, but why would Hoss leave it at the scene? Did Teresa Hurt’s car pulling up cause Hoss to run? Did she not see him dart out of the bungalow?

These questions crossed my mind when Hank was telling me about the case, and they certainly rolled around in my head all night when I couldn’t sleep.

I’d love to say I couldn’t sleep because of the murders, but in reality, every time I closed my eyes, the images of my childhood home burning played out like a reel in my head.

Coming up with the questions and going over everything Hank had mentioned about the killer was a way to not close my eyes.

Avoidance.

Mm. . . maybe. A behavior I’d been able to perfect over the last twelve or so years. If I really thought back, it was definitely when I hightailed it out of my bedroom window at Mary Elizabeth’s house in Perrysburg once I turned eighteen. Ever since, I’d been good at using my talent of avoidance to just not participate in my life.

Had I done that with Paul West? I questioned myself if, deep down, I did know there was something fishy going on when he was stealing all of that money from people.

“I know. I know.”

Fifi darted off the bed when I turned over on my right side. Any sort of movement from me was a signal for her that I was up and awake, ready to take her to potty and start the day.

I peeled back the covers and got out of bed, grabbing my sweatshirt off the top of my clothes drawers, slipping it over my unruly curls on my way down the hall. I flipped the coffee pot button on.

“You’re such a good girl.” I talked in a baby voice to the little white bundle of fur when I noticed she was waiting patiently by the door.

I bent down and looked out the front of the campervan windshield and noticed it was drizzling, so I slipped on my ankle rubber boots by the door and didn’t worry about putting Fifi’s leash on. She wouldn’t be out there long.

She was a funny little poodle. She loved jumping into the lake but didn’t appreciate a nice long bath or cool, rainy autumn mornings.

I unlocked the camper door, opened it, and took my phone off the kitchen counter. The tap of the raindrops played like an instrument on the awning. The sound was soothing to my tired soul as I stood watching Fifi hurry over to the grassy area to do her morning potty.

It was just a few seconds until she rushed back and darted back into the camper, where she planted her little self in front of her bowl.

“We have to keep up our figures.” I shut the door behind us and kept the screen door open to let in the fresh air. “Not too many more mornings are we going to be able to do this.”

I glanced out one more time across the landscape of the colorful orange, red, brown, and yellow of the mountainous backdrop. It was this type of weather pattern that would help the trees shed their leaves and retire their beauty until spring.

Oh, but Mother Nature was a tricky one. The tall evergreens capped in snow would stand in their glory over the next few months that was just as pretty as the other three seasons she gave us in Kentucky.

“Here you go.” I walked over and got a scoop of Fifi’s food from the container, sliding it into her bowl. The coffee pot beeped finished, and I made myself a nice steamy cup to enjoy while I read the text messages I’d gotten overnight.

They were from the Laundry Club Ladies. All were in agreement that we’d meet at Ava’s this morning, and they delegated me to stop by the Cookie Crumble to get some desserts. Queenie was making some sort of breakfast casserole, and Betts texted she had some leftovers frozen in her freezer from a repast at the funeral of one of her churchgoers.

Funeral food was the best. . . a sick thought, but true. Betts’s Bible-thumpers always made their best recipes when they were on display. There was no greater display than a funeral at the Normal Baptist Church.

With all the plans to help Ava paint and do whatever it was that she needed us for, I got ready by pulling my hair up in a ponytail because the light rain had made for humid air, which would send my curls up to heaven.

“Mornin’, whatcha doin’?” Dottie Swaggert answered her phone.

“I’m getting ready to head on out to go to Ava’s. Do you want to ride?” I asked.

“Nope. I know we aren’t busy, but I got a knock on my door from one of Jerry’s deputies. They have a warrant for the video footage and want someone to be here when they get it. I guess since I’m technically on the calendar to work, I will stay while you go.” I could hear her sucking in, which told me she was already smoking.

“I can stay. It’s no big deal.” I had no idea Hank was going to get a warrant. This seemed awfully official when he really had downplayed it last night.

That made me wonder.

“Nope. I got it. Besides, there was a message on the machine from someone by the name of Raegan Asher. She said she knew you from way back when. Even played with you a few times, but her brother was Hoss, and she’s bringin’ a mess of people up here to retrieve his things.” Dottie jogged a very faint memory.

“Gosh. I totally forgot about her. I wished Hoss would’ve said something besides he was from Perrysburg,” I muttered.

“Anyhoo, I figured I’d just stay. I reckon’ you ran away from them people, and you still got them demons all up in you that we don’t need to stir up today.” She made it sound like I had the devil living right inside of my body just waiting for the opportunity to jump out.

“Maybe I can get Betts to call her preacher and do some sort of exorcism,” I joked, but Dottie seemed to readily agree. “I was kidding. I’m fine,” I assured her, but the drop in my gut told me I was not fine. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” I asked and deliberately put the past in the way back of my head.

“I’m good. Bring me back a cookie. I’ll let Fifi out. Take your time. Be sure to get all that paintin’ done because I don’t want her to ask us to come back.” She hung up without saying goodbye after she said the real reason she wanted to stay behind. She didn’t want to paint.

Dang. I wished I’d thought of an excuse now.

“You be a good girl,” I told Fifi, who had a full belly of food and was ready to take a morning nap. “Aunt Dottie will be down here to let you out and check on you.”

Dottie might’ve said she’d let Fifi out, but really what she meant was that she’d be down soon to take Fifi to work with her. It was good. That was another thing I loved about the little community here in the campground.

On my way to the car, I took a moment to check out all the smoldering campfires. The light rain hadn’t touched the hot ashes enough to put them completely out. By the time I got back, I was sure I’d be able to jump on the golf cart and clean out all the fire rings so they would be ready for the next guests.

In my rearview mirror, I saw Lonie hadn’t left and made a note to tell Dottie to give her a warm goodbye. Though the last memories for her at Happy Trails would be ones of sadness and loss, I felt horrible that it happened here.

Through the curvy roads, light drizzle, and dense fog, I had to fight my thoughts about my past and now Raegan Asher. It was funny how she clearly remembered our playdates when I had no memory of them, only the name. I made a point to distance myself from the pain by turning on the radio and singing.

When I reached downtown, there were no shops open yet. The carriage lights that lined the one-way streets twinkled in the light haze. On a day like today, the haze would probably hang around because there was no visible sign of the sun.

While I made my way out of downtown toward the Cookie Crumble, all the questions I’d asked myself about Hoss and Wendell’s murders began to creep back up.

Maybe these were questions I could ask Ava since I was sure she had all the details because of her client.

I spotted the sign of the Cookie Crumble flashing OPEN even through the light rain and haze. Just the mere sight of it made my mouth water. The bakery was about the only thing open so early in the morning.

There were already a couple of cars in the parking lot. Their license plates were from different states. Though I couldn’t be sure, these were probably tourists who had been camping all week in the Daniel Boone National Forest and were stopping here on their way out of town.

When I went inside and overheard Christine talking to them, I was right. They were staying a little longer, but with the weather forecast of on-again off-again rain, they’d decided to cut their hiking trip short.

“I heard you were stopping by this morning,” Christine Watson greeted me from behind the bakery’s counter. The freckles on her face scrunched together on her plump cheeks as her eyes squinted from the smile on her face. Her brown hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail. “And I already have you packed up.” She turned around and put a to-go bag on the counter.

“Abby?” I asked.

“Mhmm. . .” Christine smiled. “She wanted to make sure you got some maple glazed donuts before I sold out. She hashtagged me on social media.”

Both of us shook our heads. A timer went off.

“I’ll be right back.” Christine rubbed her hands down her apron and pushed through the double doors behind the counter that led back where the baking magic happened. The kitchen.

I strolled down the glass bakery counter. My eyes feasted on all the various donuts and pastries she’d already made fresh this morning. She had everything from scones to tarts to a simple sprinkle donut. The next display case had her desserts like cookies, cakes, and the current seasonal pies you’d expect in Kentucky. Her pumpkin muffins were the perfect way to end a meal with friends over a strong cup of coffee.

“I can’t wait for you to try this.” She had a Styrofoam cup in her hands. Her eyes were bright with delight. “I’m going to submit my homemade eggnog to the National Park Committee for the Winter Festival.”

“You are?” My voice rose an octave. “Good. Because we’ve not had any luck finding a good drink.”

“Maybe you can taste and let me know what you think?” She winked and met me around the front of the bakery cases. “Not that I’m trying to bribe you or anything.”

“Of course you aren’t.” I smiled and took the cup.

“It’s been chilling for forty-five minutes. It’s the optimal temperature for eggnog, and I have to say, the little sprinkle of cinnamon on top really does the trick.” She carried on about the ingredients she used and how she’d been perfecting it over the last few weeks. “I know the festival is a couple months away, but it’ll be here before you know it.”

I brought the cup to my lips. There was complete silence. Christine bounced on the balls of her shoes, her brows raised high, and her eyes open as far as they could go. Her mouth was slightly ajar.

“Oh my.” I took another drink and licked my lips. “I think you’ve got this in the bag.”

“Really?” She squealed in delight. “I have to get this over to Lloyd Hornbuckle today.”

“Actually, if you go down to the Normal Diner about ten o’clock this morning, you’ll see him and the Winter Festival committee there for a breakfast meeting. They requested a meeting with him to go over the location, vendors, and the snow queen.”

“Snow queen?” Christine questioned.

“Women over sixty.” I smiled and laughed. “It’s a thing nowadays.”

The bell over the door dinged. A couple walked in and began to look down the counter.

“Are you joking me?” she asked.

“I’d never joke about the snow queen.” I laughed and reached into my purse to get my wallet. “How much do I owe?”

“Ten dollars. And before I forget.” She whipped around and grabbed a box. “This goes to Lonie Holliday. She called last night for an order to take home with her. She said she wasn’t leaving until this afternoon because the car transport company was delayed due to the weather or something. I told her you were coming in the morning, and I would send them back with you.”

“Awesome.” I took out a ten-dollar bill and exchanged it for the box.

“Need help to your car?” she asked.

“Nah, I got it.” I gave a head nod. “Thank you for getting these together.”

“Hi, what can I get you?” Christine had gone on to the next customer.

The smell of the glaze filled my car. I couldn’t wait to get to Ava’s and help myself to a cup of coffee, but when I passed the sheriff’s department, I saw a familiar car of someone who would give me the scoop and appreciate a couple of maple glazed donuts.

Agnes Swift.

Hank’s granny.

Chapter 16

Since the station was near the Cookie Crumble in the business district of Normal, it would be rude not to stop and say hello to Agnes.

At least that was what I told myself.

I drove around the courthouse, which was where the station was located, and parked in front of the door that led straight to the little waiting area with the sliding glass window. Agnes sat there and vetted everyone who walked through the door.

It had to be that way because the national park brought all sorts of people to hike, and not all of them had the best of intentions when they came to enjoy nature. It would be ignorant for our town to believe people didn’t come to get high on whatever and roam around. Sometimes they would arrive at the station or call the station for various things. Sometimes there were hallucinations that had to be taken seriously because we did have bears, coyotes, and alike. But most of the time, they didn’t attack or come near the campfire as some of the hikers believed they saw.

“Who’s there?” I heard Agnes call when I stepped into the building.

“It’s me with a sweet treat.” I’d taken a couple of the maple glazed donuts, her favorite, from the bag and carefully wrapped them in a couple of the parchment papers Christine had used to put the donuts in the bag.

When I reached the glass window, Agnes had already slid it open. There she sat, a petite older woman with soft gray hair and saggy jowls who was proud of the nameplate on the other side of the glass that had her name engraved across the brass.

“Whooowee doggie. I swear you can read my mind.” She hopped off the tall stool, and before I could even walk to the door that let me inside, she had it opened and was fanning me in. “I came in to work early. Precious has a grooming appointment this afternoon at the Smelly Dog, and I am taking off now that Hank feels like the investigation for Wendell Holliday is over.”

“Here you go.” I handed her the donuts. “How is Precious?” I asked about one of Fifi’s pups.

“Just precious like her name.” She put her hands out, donut in each, and summoned me for a hug. I bent down and hugged her.

“You think the investigation is over?” I asked.

“I knew you’d ask that.” She scanned the open room, where there were a few desks for the deputies, stale coffee at the coffee station, and a dimly lit hall where Hank and the sheriff did a lot of their interrogating as well as the only cell the department had. “Hank seems to think the weapon says it all. But you know they didn’t find any prints on it, so if you ask me, anyone could’ve taken Hoss Asher’s gun and killed him.” She took a bite out of one of the donuts. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

Agnes Swift was in charge of dispatch. Another one of her duties was to put the files and cases in the database as she waited for calls to come in, which meant she had access to everything.

“I told Hank he needed to pick your brain about all this.” She used her pinky finger to tap the top file on her desk. The tab read Wendell Holliday in big black letters. “He said you’ve been having a rough go of it. Your past and all.”

“Oh yeah. The camper fire really set my mind into the past.” I had no idea Hank was able to read me like that. We’d only been dating a couple of years, and I’d yet to talk to him about much of it, though he would’ve been a great listener.

“I try to keep it in the past. It’s not going to bring my family back.” I opened the file that she sort of gave me permission to look at.

“Sometimes you need to remember the past. There’s got to be some good memories in there that would make up for that horrible one. Maybe you can replace the bad one with good ones.” Agnes had always been so good to me.

Even before I dated Hank, she knew we’d be a good combination.

“I told Hank that if Lonie hadn’t tested positive for all that sleeping medication in her system, I’d think she had the best motive.”

“I know. She has the motive of him cheating not only with the women, but she mentioned how they fought about the cars when she came in with Ava Cox for her statement.” Agnes talked with a mouthful of donut. “Ava Cox.” She shook her head. “What about that?”

“I know. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw her pull up in that U-Haul the other day.” I shrugged. “I guess we do need a lawyer in town.”

“I guess. I’m not one to judge, but I do question her judgment on Lonie. She swears she’s innocent.” Agnes didn’t buy the evidence. “Think about it. Hoss said he and Ava talked about the car the other night at the campground.”

“I saw them, and she said it right in front of me,” I recalled. “Which made Hoss a little upset. I also saw him and Wendell having a heated discussion.”

I wouldn’t’ve called their mumbling along the tree line that night an argument or fight. It was more like a deep and intense discussion. Now we knew about what.

“Plus, Hank said they found Wendell’s keys in Hoss’s car.” I circled my mind back to the keys I’d found. “Did Hank tell you about the keys I’d found in the woods a little behind Hoss’s camper?”

She nodded.

“It would be possible if Hoss had stashed those keys there and made it into his camper without me seeing.” The times I’d seen or had any interaction with Hoss were tossed around in my mind. “Not only that, but after Ava, Dottie, Lonie, and I had decided to put the keys back and watch to see if the killer came back, Bobby Ray pulled up in his car with Hoss in the passenger seat. I told them what I was doing. It was when I was talking to Hank a few hours later that the keys were missing again, which Bobby Ray had already come back with Hoss.”

“Oh dear.” Agnes’s wrinkles around her eyes deepened. “That’s how he knew you had put them back, and he could’ve gotten them when he came back. He might’ve watched you. When you gave Hank your attention, I bet that’s when he snuck out and got the keys.”

“Yep,” I agreed.

“Which means Hank’s right. Hoss Asher did kill Wendell.” She flipped the file shut and answered the ringing phone.

Chapter 17

“Y’all are over here early,” Beck Greer, the ten-year-old neighbor boy, said. He was riding on his bike in the middle of their street when I pulled up. “What are y’all doing?”

“We are going to help my friend, Ava, paint and probably unload a few boxes.” I couldn’t help but think Ava had a little snooper living next to her.

“She’s a lawyer. I saw her being interviewed by Violet Rhinehammer on the news.” He pedaled a little faster, letting go of the brakes for a second before grabbing them again. “I’m learning new bike tricks.”

“You’re doing great!” I told him with enthusiasm as he tried to pop a wheelie.

“I’ve not had breakfast, but I’ve been working on no hands.” He rode past me again and tried to do more steering without his hands. I watched to make sure he didn’t crash into a mailbox, but he turned around and came back. “Practice makes perfect.” He grinned. “What’s in the box?” he asked and slid off the seat of the bike, balancing it between his legs.

“Donuts.” I could see his gaze didn’t move.

“I love the Cookie Crumble.” He licked his lips as if he was already tasting one.

“Would your mom care if you had one?” I asked.

“No. I’d eat it before.” His brows pinched. “I can run and ask.”

“Just take one and let her decide when you can have it.” Not being a mother, I certainly had no idea what the protocol for a donut was nor did I know if he had any sort of dietary restriction. I did know that I didn’t want any more stress than was already piled up on me, and a mother’s wrath was not going to add to it.

“Okay. Fine.” He shrugged as his eyes carefully took in every single donut until he decided upon one of the chocolate sprinkles. “See ya.” He walked his bike with one hand and carefully held the donut in the other.

“That kid is going to break something,” I said when I opened the door and let myself in Ava’s house.

“Oh yeah.” Ava greeted me from around the corner in her new casual outfit and hair pulled up. I still wasn’t used to seeing her that way. “His mom, Darby Greer, came over and introduced herself. They have a neighborhood women’s club.”

“Ahh.” I smiled. “I’m guessing she invited you.”

“Oh yeah.” Ava shook her head. “You’ve got the donuts, and the coffee is brewing. Where’s Dottie?”

“She couldn’t make it. It’s her day to work, but I secretly think she was happy she didn’t have to come paint,” I teased, following her into the combination family room and kitchen. “You don’t like these white walls?”

“I know.” Abby took the box from me and put it in the middle of the eight-foot kitchen island. I peeled off my lightweight coat and hung it on the back of one of the four chairs butted up to the island and sat down.

“I even suggested waiting for at least six months before she paints because she really needs to get to know the house.” Betts shrugged and picked up one of the muffins to put on one of the paper plates Ava had already put on the counter along with forks and napkins.

“Queenie?” I gestured to the donuts to see if she wanted one. She was too busy watching the small television Ava had on her kitchen counter.

“Nah. Did y’all see Violet Rhinehammer on here talking about the camper fire?” Queenie pointed to the TV.

“She did an interview with me yesterday.” Ava picked up the remote and clicked the volume button up a few more notches. She put the carafe of coffee on the island.

“I heard.” I picked up the carafe and poured a few cups of coffee for us. “Beck told me.”

“Beck tells a lot of things, and it sounds like he’s repeating everything his mother says.” Ava shook her head. “Grady Jr. used to repeat everything I would gossip about as if it were coming straight from him.” She smiled at the memory. “Kids.”

While Betts, Abby, and Queenie listened to the news update that I’d already learned this morning from Agnes, I watched Ava. She was lost in that memory of her son Grady Jr. My heart hurt for her because I had been having firsthand memories of my past. They hurt. They weren’t in any way comforting as you’d think memories were.

“These are so good.” Queenie had finally taken one of the pumpkin muffins with the drizzle of cream icing and took a bite.

“Y’all.” I put my hands out. “Christine is already started on her eggnog recipe for the Winter Festival, and it’s to die for.”

“She let you try it?” Abby’s jaw dropped. “She knows I love eggnog so much,” she whined.

“You should go there after we leave here because she’s testing it all day,” I suggested, and Abby’s face lit up. “But while we eat, I want to know what happened with Wendell’s case.”

“Pretty much what we thought. Hoss had been hounding Wendell for months about the classic Cadillac . Wendell didn’t want to sell it to him. It’s true that Wendell wasn’t going to enter into the contest, and he even had to pay a late entry fee, which made Hoss even more mad since he told Hoss he wasn’t going to enter. Plus, it was his gun and his car where the keys were found.”

“Yeah. I had so many questions about Hoss, but I guess we won’t get those answers.” I bit down into one of the chocolate sprinkle donuts.

“Like what?” Abby asked through a muffin-filled mouth. The maple glaze from her donut was dripping down her chin.

“I know the gun was his, but why did he leave it behind? Did Teresa Hunt scare him away when she drove up? Why did Teresa Hunt go there so late at night? And did she not see him run from the bungalow?”

Abby perked up a bit as if my questions sparked an idea. “Violet Rhinehammer said they still don’t know who set the fire at Happy Trails that killed Hoss. What if Teresa Hurt and Hoss were in on it? They were an item.” Her eyes darted between all of us like she was trying to see our reaction.

“I’m listening.” Ava picked up the remote control and turned the volume back down.

“She’d gotten the note from Lonie, which gave her a good excuse to go there. She and Hoss had decided to confront Wendell. Hoss would confront him. They both knew Lonie would be asleep because everyone knows that Lonie takes those sleeping pills.” Abby’s brow rose.

“Yes. Unfortunately, I think she’s addicted to them.” Ava sighed. “But she did promise me that once she got Wendell’s business situated that she’d see a doctor about getting weaned off them.”

“Oh good.” Betts liked hearing that. She was always a champion for everyone. It was nice to have a friend that was always on your side.

“Back to Abby’s theory.” Queenie’s eyes lowered, causing her headband to creep down a little. She pushed it back on her hairline. “And what if Hoss was going to come clean? He told Teresa Hunt that, and she went over to the campground to try and convince him not to go confess because, let’s face it, she’d be in just as much trouble as him even though she didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Murder in the second degree.” Ava nodded.

“Right.” I snapped a finger and pointed at her. “I found her lipstick on the ground, so she dropped it. But she came back later that night, and that’s when she set the camper on fire.”

“To shut him up.” Betts drew her hand to her mouth. “I think you need to tell Hank.”

“I think you’re right.” Ava nodded. “You need to go tell Hank.”

I glanced between all of them. They all nodded. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent Hank a quick text.

“We can paint later.” Ava sucked in a deep breath. “I’d like for Lonie to have some closure before she leaves today.”

“What time is she leaving?” Betts asked. “Only because I need to get over there and clean for Mae.”

“Trust me.” I snickered and popped the last bite of donut in my mouth. “All those men renting from me this week were not so tidy. You’ve got your work cut out for you today.” I glanced down at my phone when it pinged a text back from Hank. “He is at his camper. I’ll go back and tell him. Plus, I have a donut delivery for Lonie from the Cookie Crumble.”

“Then maybe we should wait to paint.”

Betts scooted back her chair. “Are you sure, Ava? We are here for you and your big move.”

“I’m fine. I think it’s best to get all of this to Hank before Teresa Hunt has a chance to escape town.” Ava was looking at it from a legality point of view that I’d never thought of. “It would be a lot harder for Hank to question her if she left his jurisdiction.”

Chapter 18

The questions I needed to present to Hank started to take on a conversation of their own in my head. I thought about how I would present them to him without putting him over the edge by my continuing need to sleuth and sniff out more theories.

When I found him back at the campground, he was actually sitting in the recreation center with Raegan Asher and a couple of other people that I could only think would be some of Hoss’s family members.

Seeing Raegan brought back some of the old buried memories of her and I playing as children. After I went into the foster care system, I didn’t see her much. Even in school because Mary Elizabeth always made teacher requests. Now that I thought about it, I was in every single homeroom with the same people each year, the same girls who were in the debutant class and my various other extracurricular activities Mary Elizabeth stuck me in.

Inwardly, I groaned at Mary Elizabeth’s conniving ways. I made a mental note to ask her about it when I’d call her later today to check on her back.

“Maybelline.” Raegan stood up when she saw me.

“I’m so sorry, Raegan.” I hugged her, and she sat back down. “I have no words.”

“You of all people know what I’m going through.” The edges of her lips melted down. “She and I were good friends before the accident.”

“Accident,” one of the men next to her scoffed. “Fires are no accident. Just like my brother’s death, and if you ain’t gonna find out who did it, I’ve got my own associates who can.”

I gulped, and a memory of my dad sitting at the kitchen table, talking to my mom after Raegan had left, washed back into my memory.

Those Ashers are up to no good. I’m telling you not to let Maybelline play with that little girl again. I have seen firsthand what her daddy did to the coal mine when he was fired. He said he had people to take care of things. They are homegrown mafia types.

After that, my mom didn’t let Raegan come over. I blinked back the memory of me and her talking on the playground after all of that took place. It was right before the family fire.

“People?” I asked and scrutinized him. “What kind of people?” A bit of fear stuck in my throat, and I wondered if those people were the ones who set my family home on fire.

“Let’s just say that I’ve got people who will go to any means to find out the truth, and they will never get caught.” His nostrils flared.

“Oh.” Raegan smacked him on his arm. “Don’t you mind Waylan. He’s all talk.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” His hands opened and closed into fists.

“I’m doing everything I can to find out what happened to your brother.” Hank went into his detective mode and explained the forensics of the testing while I waited to talk to him alone.

The Asher siblings walked over to the camper in the drizzling rain. They didn’t seem to mind getting wet.

“I’m going to go put on some coffee in the office to bring back to the recreation center so they can warm up when they get done,” I told Hank and watched Betts pull into the campground. “But I wanted to talk to you about Teresa Hunt.”

“Really?” Hank looked down at me with a chilly look. “This.” He pointed to the fire. “That hits pretty close to home for you. I was hoping you’d just let me do my job.”

“I only have a theory for you to check out. Teresa’s lipstick still haunts me. Do you think she and Hoss were in on it? Both of them had motives. Teresa might’ve been dumped by Wendell. We can’t take her word for it. What if she and Hoss did kill Wendell that night? Both of them were at the crime scene at the time of his death.” I shrugged. “Maybe Hoss grew a conscience.”

“It’s something to think about.”

“What? Did you just agree to look into something I suggested?” I questioned. “Because if you did, Ava said that it would be hard for you to question her in your way if Teresa left town.”

“I know the law, Mae.” He put his arms out. “Give me a kiss. Tidy things up with the Ashers, and I’ll go question Teresa again before she leaves.”

“You do think I’m a good sleuth,” I teased him. I curled up on my toes and kissed him. “This was easier than I thought it was going to be.”

“Seriously, you two. After a year of dating, you’d think y’all would stop being all sickening cute in public.” Betts groaned. She had her mop bucket and another pushcart full of cleaning supplies she used for all the campers and bungalows.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” I gave Hank one last kiss so he’d get on his way and I could tell Betts the news.

“I didn’t mean to scare ya off,” she joked when he said his goodbyes.

“I’ve got to get to work. I didn’t get a jump on the day like you ladies.” He winked as his way of telling her that he knew.

“Oh.” She snuggled up to me. “What did he say?” she asked when he walked off.

“He said he’d go question Teresa one more time before she left town.” I scanned the campground to see where I should tell her to go first. “I’ve not checked with Dottie to see who has checked out, so let’s go find out.”

“It sure has turned into an ugly morning.” Betts was right. The drizzle had picked up to a steady rainfall, making what leaves were left on the trees fall to the ground, creating a wet and slippery blanket.

“I thought it was going to be a nice fall day when I showed up at Ava’s.” I tugged on the edges of the light jacket and pulled it up over my neck to try to keep somewhat dry.

Both of us hurried across the grass to the office to get out of the rain.

“Oh, I can smell coffee.” Betts entered the office before me.

“Hey, Dale,” I greeted one of the car show guests. He was sitting in the chair in front of Dottie’s desk. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine. I hate going home.” He gave half a smile. “I’ve slept better here than I do at home.”

“I told him it was the nature of the Daniel Boone National Park and the beds you put in the campers.” Dottie snickered and put the paper in front of him to sign since they had some extra add-ons to pay for.

“Must be.” He signed the paper while letting out a big yawn.

“Are you all out of the camper?” Betts asked. She must’ve been thinking the same thing I was thinking. She could clean the camper he was staying in.

“I’ll go down and make sure I got everything, then on the road I go.” He smacked the desk. “Ladies, thank you for some good hospitality even though there was a bit of sadness.”

“Thank you. Please don’t hold everything that’s happened against us, and you’ll come back to relax.” I patted his arm on his way out. “He is the guy that told me about Teresa and Wendell.”

“Really?” Betts peered over Dottie’s shoulder and watched him hustle back to his camper. “He was in the car show?”

“Yep.” I took the pot of coffee and poured half of it into a thermos so I could give it to Raegan when Betts and I walked the campground. It had become a little ritual of ours so I could point out the various things I needed cleaned that particular week. “You okay?” I asked Dottie.

“Do I look okay?” she asked.

“Just checking.” I laughed. “I’m going to go give this to Hoss’s family and walk Betts around. Let me know if you need something.”

“It’s just spittin’ out there now, so you better hurry up.” She was talking about how the rain had practically stopped for the time being.

“Let’s go.” Betts made her way over to the door and stepped out with her cup of coffee.

We headed back over to the recreation center, where she grabbed her cart.

“So you can start on Dale’s camper because it looks like he’s hitting the road.” We strolled down the line of campers, and Dale was getting into his car. It looked like the other guys had left from the camper next to them. “I’ll make my way around the fire rings to empty out any trash people shouldn’t’ve put in them.”

There was always something I had to pull out of every single firepit even though I’d endlessly tried to remind guests about what could and couldn’t burn.

Betts and I waved at Dale when he passed. She pushed the cart with one hand and drank her coffee with the other.

“I’ll see you in a few.” I headed through the campground to get the donuts from the Cookie Crumble and a handful of garbage bags. The donuts were still in my car, and I opened the storage compartment on the outside of my camper to get some garbage bags that I tucked into my pocket.

I didn’t hear anything from Fifi, so I decided not to check on her. I was sure Dottie had already let her out while I was gone. On my way back around the campground with my full bags of trash, I’d let her out.

“Let me know if you need anything.” I had gone ahead and met with the Asher family, handing Raegan the thermos. They appeared to be in deep conversation. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

“Nah. We were just trying to think back, and Hoss had taken a call one night from Wendell.” Raegan got my attention.

“No,” Waylan interrupted, “it was his wife that called. Remember? I heard a woman’s voice, and we thought it was Francis.”

“Francis?” I asked.

“One of Hoss’s many exes.” Raegan rolled her eyes. “He will be missed by the ladies.”

“Did you know Teresa Hurt?” I questioned.

“She’s been after him for years. But he swore he’d never give her the time of day.” Now that really got my attention.

“Wait.” I paused to take a second to get my thoughts straight. “Are you telling me he wasn’t dating Teresa Hurt, and you know that?”

“That old gearhead?” Waylan snarled. “No chance. She tried, boy had she tried. But he had no interest in that.”

“But you know for sure that Lonie called Hoss?” I asked.

“I didn’t say called. I said he was on the phone with her,” Waylan corrected me. “Trust me. Hoss did everything he could to get his hands on that Cadillac of Wendell’s. Now I think it got him killed, and if that detective doesn’t find out who did it, I will.” He tapped his chest with his finger.

“Well, I have to go deliver these.” I held up the box from the Cookie Crumble. I didn’t dare tell the Ashers the donuts were for Lonie for fear he’d storm over there for answers.

I glanced back a couple of times when I left to make sure they weren’t watching me. They weren’t. They went back to discussing with their heads tucked together.

From the outside, I could see Lonie through the bungalow window. She was in the kitchen, looking down at the spot where Wendell had been shot.

Lightly, I knocked on the door.

“Mae, come on in.” She opened it, and it didn’t go unnoticed that she looked past me toward the Ashers. “Is that Hoss’s family?”

“Yes. I didn’t tell them you were here because they have a lot of questions. Especially when they overheard you talking to Hoss after Wendell had called them.” I handed her the box of donuts. “My friend Christine asked me to deliver your order.”

“Wendell didn’t call Hoss.” She took the box and made sure she corrected me. “They are wrong. He drove Wendell crazy about that Cadillac . He always called Wendell.”

“Oh. Okay.” I didn’t feel like getting in a back-and-forth argument about who had called who because the answer was buried with both men. “So it looks like you’re on the road soon.”

“Yes. I am waiting on a call from Ava to give me the go-ahead. Not that I’m not allowed to go, I just want to make sure the detectives have everything they need from me.” Lonie was picking up various notebooks and folders lying on the table, stacking them up.

“Is that the trophy?” I asked when I noticed a gold statuesque object with a molded car on top of it.

“Yes. Wendell would’ve loved this so much. He loved that Cadillac .” She picked it up and gave it an appreciative look before she put it back down on the table. “He loved it more than me.” She laughed.

“I heard there was a big dollar amount to win.” I wondered what she was going to do with the winnings.

“Yeah.” Her eyes grew, and she picked up an envelope. “I think I’ll donate it to a widow’s foundation or something. I don’t know.”

“I’m sure you’ll do what you need to do. And one hundred thousand dollars will be a nice donation to someone.” I recalled the winnings and examined the envelope because I’d never seen one hundred thousand dollars in cash.

I had seen a few thousand since Paul had actually left me money in a sock drawer, but I claimed it was really mine because Paul had also cashed in my 401(k) and practically stole that from me. Leaving me the cash was probably his way of making good with me.

“I’d give it all back just to have one more second with Wendell.” Lonie’s head dropped. She sucked in a deep sigh. “But I’ve got to move on with my life. It’s not going to be easy, but I know he’d want me to.”

“Let me know if you need anything.” I reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “I’ve got to get to work and pick up trash.”

“Enjoy that.” She opened the donut box and took out a donut as I let myself out.

The rain had ended. The clouds hung down and shielded the sun from shining through, which was a typical fall day in Kentucky. It settled into my soul that this was the start of many days to come.

I went over to the firepit and looked in. There were a few burnt pieces of wood that were probably from the first night Lonie and Wendell were here. I grabbed one of the pokers and pushed the wood around to see if there was anything in there that needed to be thrown out. I was pleased to see it was trash free. The kettle grate and rod were missing.

My boots sloshed in the wet grass when I walked between the bungalows to try to find where Wendell had put the kettle grate that had been next to the woodpile with the other extra items Henry had for our guests. Henry had custom made a neat little rack with the various tools my guests might enjoy using with a campfire. The kettle rod was a thick steel bar only about two feet in length that went over the top of the flames where the kettle could be hung for morning coffee or tea. The other tool that came in handy while cooking over a campfire was a grate where a cast-iron skillet fit perfectly for those amazing suppers. I’d even included recipes in each camper and bungalow for campers to try out. But the s’more rods were the most popular item Henry had to replace. Everyone wanted to make s’mores.

The woodpile in this bungalow was located under the master bedroom in the bungalow Lonie and Wendell had rented. The entire grassy area was a muddy mess. The wood was wet, which was sad for the next renter. But Henry was good at keeping extra wood stored for events just like this. We never really knew when the rain would come. Not even a radar could produce any accuracy. I looked over the tools for the campfire and didn’t see the kettle rod. There were a few pieces of the stacked wood out of place that was probably where Wendell had moved the wet pieces from the top to retrieve the drier pieces when he’d had his campfire going.

I moved the few pieces of wood back on top of the stack. When I started to move the wood back to the stack, I noticed there was a footprint. My eyes slid up the outside wall of the bungalow and stopped at the window. It was like the wood had been strategically placed there to cover up the print, or like it was placed there as a step down from the window.

I looked back down, and where it had rained, the water had settled back into the footprint that was partially dried, which made me think this was made a few days ago, and that would coincide with the night of Wendell Holliday’s murder.

I gulped as I remembered Bobby Ray had given Hoss a pair of boots. I stared at the muddy footprint and wondered if Hoss had heard Teresa coming in, and this was his escape. Out the window?

I turned my neck to where I’d seen the shadow run, and it was a perfect line from here to the edge of the woods, right behind the burned-up camper.

I turned my attention back to the muddy print and noticed it wasn’t the same size as Bobby Ray’s. Much smaller. Like a woman’s size.

“Teresa?” I questioned and put my own foot up to it. “Why would she leave through the window? Did Lonie wake up? Did Teresa go after Lonie?”

I blinked a few times to try to get my brain to wake up to more questions.

“We are going to the office,” Raegan Asher yelled over at me.

I looked up and waved. Then I headed back to see Lonie. “Lonie,” I called her name from the crack in the door.

I heard her talking, so I peeped my head in, and she was on the phone, motioning for me to come in.

I stood there, trying to come up with a good way to ask her about Teresa without getting her upset, but nothing could come to mind after my eyes fixed on the muddy pair of shoes sitting in a clear plastic bag on top of her suitcase.

Chapter 19

“The kettle bar.” I gasped out loud, recalling the metal bar that’d held Hoss’s camper door shut. The kettle bar from this bungalow was not with the rest of the campfire tools.

“What?” Lonie’s brows formed a V before she glanced over to see what I was looking at.

“Nothing.” I shook my head and tried to play off what I was thinking, even though I knew I never had a good poker face. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay.” I clasped my hands and took a couple of steps backwards toward the door. “And enjoy those donuts on the way home.”

“I think you better just stop right there.” Lonie hurried past me and ripped a knife from the cutlery set. The sound of it being pulled from the wood sleeve set alarms off in my brain, causing my pulse to quicken and my stomach to clench. “It’s not what you think.”

“I’m not thinking anything.” I put my hands out in front of me.

“Oh.” She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re certainly thinking those shoes are muddy, and why would Lonie Holliday have muddy shoes? I know from being at the detective interview how you and your little snooping friends saw someone running from this bungalow, and how you saw the butterfly license plate. And by the look on your face, I can see you’ve started to put two and two together.”

“You know, I’m just a. . .” I started to say.

“A simple campground owner?” she mocked me and waved the knife in front of me. I took a couple steps back into the depths of the bungalow, certainly going in the wrong direction. “I know exactly who you are. Mae West, as in the infamous Paul West’s wife. You aren’t so dumb. When your boyfriend told me you were sticking that pretty perky nose of yours into my husband’s death, don’t you know I’m smart enough to check out who you were? Just in case something like this happened.” She jabbed the knife at me a couple of times, making me flinch and causing her to laugh as if this were some cat and mouse game.

“Oh, sweet, sweet Teresa. She wouldn’t be in the money if she’d not showed up that night before predicted. That woman has been a thorn in my side for years. Almost as bad as those stupid classic cars and this ignorant show.” Lonie’s chest rose as she took in a deep breath. Her head tilted to the side as a happy hum escaped her.

It was as if she were pleased with how she was recalling the night of her husband’s death.

“Yes. I sent her the note. It was very much calculated on my part.” Her nose curled with each little giggle and smile that appeared.

“So when you. . .” I took a deep breath and, with a louder voice, screamed, “Call Hank,” in hopes my voice recognition would do exactly what I wanted it to do without Lonie recognizing it. Call Hank.

“Call Hank? No way. I didn’t figure you and that hillbilly smoking woman would be standing outside in the middle of the night. What I did figure was I’d be in bed by the time sweet Teresa showed up. But she showed up just as I shot Wendell.”

“Then what happened?” I coaxed her when I heard a faint voice coming from my pocket, knowing it was Hank. “You shot Wendell, Teresa showed up, and then what, Lonie?”

“Why do you care? It won’t matter because now I have to come up with a plan to kill you. But this is where I can call up my good friend Teresa.” Her face was stern, her eyes dark. “You might as well sit down because I need to make a phone call.”

I knew if I sat down, the phone would be muffled by the couch cushion, but I did what she said and acted as if I were moving the couch pillow from behind me when I slipped my hand in my back pocket and took the phone out, sneaking it between the cushions of the couch with the microphone facing up.

“It’s Lonie. We have a serious problem, and I think you need to get over to the campground now.” By her voice, Lonie didn’t leave any room for negotiating for the other person on the line. “Little Miss Camper Lady has figured out that I killed Wendell, and I’m just telling her how you walked in on me but decided to let it slide if I gave you half of Wendell’s winnings and your boyfriend the Cadillac .”

“Are you talking to Teresa Hurt?” I yelled the question so Hank, which I hoped was Hank, would hear me. “Did Teresa Hurt help you kill Wendell?”

I knew she didn’t say that, but she said Teresa had walked in and decided to blackmail her. Well, I wanted it clear to Hank, or whoever I’d dialed, that Theresa Hurt was in on it too.

Lonie whispered a few words in the phone and hung up, and she moved right back up into my face.

“Did you set the fire to Hoss’s camper? Why did you kill him?” These were questions I wanted to hear the answers to.

“Why does all of this matter? You’re going to join them. Possibly in a fire here.” She wasn’t falling for my need for her to confess what she’d done.

Under her steady scrutiny, I found it was getting harder and harder to think.

“Just tell me!” I screamed when she leapt forward with the knife. I jerked to the side.

She busted out laughing.

“You don’t seem so big and snoopy now.” She took a step back and ran a finger from the opposite hand down the knife, playing with the tip. “I really wanted Wendell to pay for all of those years of cheating on me with those dumb cars. I didn’t mind the affairs. That meant I didn’t have to keep him, say, satisfied. What put me over the edge was the money he spent on those car parts and these car shows. He was taking that money from my lifestyle.”

Her motive had become disturbingly clear. She didn’t like him using their money on his hobby, or at least she saw it as a complete change in lifestyle.

“Of course, he was going to sell that Cadillac and give me the money. That’s when I contacted Hoss and told him to show up here at the car show. I had no idea Wendell was going to change his mind.” She huffed.

“So when I saw you and Hoss talking. . .” I wanted to see if I was right, but she interrupted me again, and I let her.

“When you saw us arguing, I told him we had to meet in private. Funny how these things work out. You see”—her face was bright as she bragged about the plan she’d come up with—“I went to Hoss’s cute little camper you fixed up.” She continued to mock me. “And when I saw he had his gun there, I knew I had to get it, so when I killed Wendell, and Teresa showed up, she’d be the one standing over his body. I never figured Hoss would show up too. It was crazy, the three of us standing over Wendell’s body, trying to come up with a solution that would suit us all.” She cackled. “That’s when I gave the keys to Hoss and told him to stash them by the tree because I’d looked out the window after we were all standing there, and I saw you and that yippy dog of yours. I knew you’d see him running out. Then I told him I’d give him the Cadillac once everything settled down. He was good with that. Teresa was easy too. She said she’d keep her mouth shut if I split the car show winnings because we all knew Wendell was going to win with that Cadillac entry. It’s about as classic and in perfect condition as you can get.” She stopped talking long enough to flip her hair and let out a few heavy and long happy breaths.

“It was a well-laid-out plan until Hoss grew a conscience.” She shook her head. “Teresa went over there and tried to talk some sense into him, but he didn’t budge. We knew we had to take drastic measures. I simply took the steel rod from next to the house and neatly stuck it in the door handle. Oh.” She frowned, and her eyes dipped. “It was terribly sad watching him beat on the window and try to get out of the camper. Those darn things must be made of flimsy wood because that sucker went up in seconds.” Her eyes grew, as did the smile on her face.

“You’re sick,” I said through gritted teeth.

There was a knock at the door.

“That must be our little helper Teresa.” She wiggled her shoulders and headed over to the door.

She barely turned the knob before someone shoved it open, knocking her to the ground.

“Don’t move!” Betts Hager had the handle of a broom shoved right into the chest of Lonie Holliday.

Chapter 20

“It was the sleeping pills that I’d found in Dale’s camper with Lonie’s name on them that started me thinking. Cleaning always helps me clear my head.” Betts, Dottie, Abby, Queenie, Hank, and I were sitting on the couches at the Laundry Club.

All of us listened to Betts recall how she’d figured out Lonie was the killer, and when she went looking for me, Raegan Asher told her I was in the bungalow. Betts knew it was Lonie’s bungalow, so she grabbed a broom and headed down there.

It wasn’t too long after Betts was going to poke Lonie to death with the end that Hank had showed up. Luckily, he was about the only person I called on the phone. Jerry had gone to the Old Train Station to get Teresa Hurt before she left town, and Hank zoomed to Happy Trails Campground to help me out.

“Dale showed back up, saying he forgot his medication.” Betts shook her head and pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “I did some quick thinking and told him I’d taken the medication up to the lost and found in the office. I knew I had to get some truth out of him, and who better to help me than Dottie?”

“You betcha!” Dottie winked. “That low-down dirty dog. I was gonna poke his eye out with my lit cigarette if he didn’t start singing like a canary.” Dottie’s face pinched. “He said how Lonie told him she’d give him some sleepin’ pills if he’d pee in a cup for her. That’s when she taped the bag of urine to her leg after Hank asked her to come to the station for a tinkle test.”

It was hard not to laugh at how Dottie told the story compared to Betts, both of whom I loved so dearly.

“No wonder he said he was sleeping better than he ever had.” I recalled him saying how well he’d been sleeping in the camper.

“That’s when I ran down to the bungalow and left Dottie to do whatever she needed to do with Dale.” Betts waited for Hank to catch up as he wrote in his little notebook.

“I might’ve poked his eye out if Hank hadn’t driven up just then.” There was no doubt in my mind that Dottie probably would’ve done something to put a little hurt on Dale.

“I’m glad you thought to call me while it was happening because I heard it. I’m just so thankful none of you ladies got hurt.” When Hank said it, he looked directly at me.

My heart melted, creating a smile on my face.

“I’ll need you to come down and sign a typed-up statement after Agnes gets it finished, which will give me time to get Ava Cox out of the department and transfer Lonie to a bigger facility until we can get moving with the conviction.” Hank glanced over at Abby and then at Dottie.

“Ava is still going to represent her?” My jaw dropped.

“Nope. She’s there telling Lonie to forget it now.” Hank shook his head and flipped his notebook shut. “Teresa really tried to get out of her part in it too. But she’ll be locked up for a long time even though she didn’t pull the trigger.”

Right then, my phone rang with a text.

“It’s Mary Elizabeth. Dawn Gentry has taken her to the Old Train Station to find Tex the Chiropractor.” I rolled my eyes.

“Are you pullin’ my leg?” Dottie asked. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She’s decided to go back to weekly appointments, and she can’t find his location off the trail.” I stood up and kissed Hank. “I better get over there and help her.” I strapped my cross-body bag over my shoulder. “Anyone else want to come?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Gee, thanks,” I grumbled and started toward the door.

“She’s your mom. You’re going to be the one taking care of her. So you might as well go to her therapy now.” Dottie smiled.

It had all made sense now that we knew the truth. As much as I wanted to believe in the goodness of Hoss Asher, he was still part of the Asher family, which, according to my father, had some pretty awful traits to them. I guessed my dad wasn’t so far off after all.

Instead of moaning and groaning about driving to the Old Train Station, I turned the attitude around and made it all about the nice fall temperatures we were having and taking advantage of the new trail while it was still open.

Some trails in the Daniel Boone National Park had to be closed during the winter months. They were just too steep, and the terrain wasn’t easy to get to on a summer day, making it way more difficult—if not impossible—to get to on a snowy, icy winter day.

If the Forestry Rangers couldn’t get down the trail to save someone in need, the committee made the final calls if we kept them open. These were rules and agendas I was learning being on the committee.

This was one of those trails. The cascades, when frozen, were really dangerous, and today, I needed to get in one last hike while Mary Elizabeth had her voodoo hoodoo session with bare-chested Tex.

“What took you so long?” Mary Elizabeth had a red handkerchief tied around her neck with a buffalo-check red-and-white button-down on. Mind you, the buttons were pearlized, and the top was fitted, but at least she had on a pair of jeans and some hiking boots.

Real hiking boots. She stood at the edge of the trail with her walking stick.

“I had to drive.” I hugged her.

There was a little bit of rustling going on behind her, and when Glenda emerged, my heart went back to normal since I had no idea what was lurking back there.

“Right on time.” Glenda rubbed her hands together. She looked at me. “Are you ready?”

“Who, me?” I asked and stared at Mary Elizabeth.

“Yes. You.” Mary Elizabeth adjusted the handkerchief a little more to the side of her neck, no doubt a fashionable way to wear it. “I’m going to have tea with Coke while you get a therapy lesson.”

“Therapy?” I shook my head. “No way.”

“It’s a massage of sorts.” Glenda put her hand out for me to take. “If anything, you’re getting a much-needed relaxing rubdown.”

“When you put it that way, it sounds like a spa day.” I shrugged.

“Yes. A spa day, dear.” Mary Elizabeth smiled and nudged me forward to go with Glenda.

Glenda made some chitchat about the murders that’d taken place over the past week, and before I knew it, we were standing in the clearing where Tex, bare chested and all, stood next to that chiropractic table.

“You can go on over.” Glenda gestured for me to go without her.

I did.

Tex didn’t say anything. He patted the table, and I got up on it.

“I’m going to start your reiki, which works with your life’s healing energy.” He stood over me as I lay down on my back. “Please close your eyes. Relax. Enjoy.”

“I don’t need healing.” I snorted and felt him stand behind me. I opened my eyes and got an eye full of bared skin.

“Just relax,” his voice soothed. “I think you’re going to find you’ve got a past and memories that you are holding on to that no longer serve you. And I want you to be able to release them.” He stood back and moved to my side, where he laid his hands on my arms.

“I’m sending you love and healing from my hands to you.” He gently touched, massaged, and rubbed my hand in his. “You have the ability to release the mental baggage you’ve been carrying up there for years.”

My throat started to tighten, but my body relaxed. I wanted and willed my body to move off that darn table in the middle of the woods, but it refused me. As he continued to move along my body with his fancy healing and spiritual words about body and mind healing the soul, I felt the tears forming.

Like a bright sun bursting through a gray cloud, the tears poured from me. I was sobbing. Like, uncontrollably sobbing.

“Yes. Let go,” bare-chested Tex encouraged me with his soft words. “You’ve decided to come to grips with your past and let go of things. That is where the emotion has come from. You’re ready for emotional healing that will bring you peace and let you live a long, happy, and fulfilled life.”

The tears wouldn’t stop.

“Yes,” he hummed. “I’m opening up those closed chakras that will bring healing.”

His words might’ve been hokey-pokey, but whatever it was he was doing made me feel better.

“I have to go,” I muttered before I found my voice underneath the tears. I jerked up, and there was Mary Elizabeth, staring me dead in the eyes. “I have to find out what exactly happened to my family.”

Mary Elizabeth smiled, and it hit me. I wasn’t the one taking care of her. She was the one taking care of me. Still.

Keep reading to continue your camping trip in Normal, Kentucky with a sneak peek of Eggnog, Extortion, & Evergreens, book 14 in A Camper & Criminals Cozy Mystery Series.

Sneak Peek

Eggnog, Extortion, & Evergreens

Chapter One

“Oh, Mae. Oh Mae,” Hank’s voice quivered. “Please open your eyes.”

I’m here. I’m here. I could hear my thoughts.

“It’s just me and you. Squeeze my hand.” I could feel him pressing his warm hand over mine. “Come on, baby. Squeeze it now, Mae.” The tone of his voice quickly faded from desperation to commanding with a hint of angry undertones.

I am squeezing. I am trying. My thoughts drifted off to try to figure out why I couldn’t see or talk. Where was I?

I drowned out Hank’s pleas to actively listen to the darkness that’d surrounded me. The shuffling of feet, the creak of wheels like a cart zoomed past, beeps upon beeps echoed near and far, but I wasn’t clear what was happening. The sound of a zipping curtain caught my attention.

“Anything?” An unfamiliar woman’s voice brought me back to Hank.

“No. Just laying here.” There was a faint wisp of air across my cheek as his hand pulled away from mine. “I’ll move.”

“It’s okay.” The woman had a comforting voice. “Do they know how long she was in the car?”

“No. They don’t even think anyone saw her car until I went looking for her.” He gave me a clue.

Car? I was in a car?

“All of her vital signs are good. I’m sure she’s just unconscious from hitting her head on the steering wheel.” The woman’s cold hands touched my wrist. There was a few seconds pause. “Her heart rate is good. She doesn’t have a fever.”

“When will the results of her cat scan come in about her brain?” Hank’s question alarmed me.

Me brain? Cat scan? Was I in a car wreck?

There was some clicking that sounded like someone was typing which made me think I was in a hospital and the nurse was looking up something or recording my vitals she’s just taken.

“It looks like the results are in.” Even though I was only able to hear her, I could tell she was offering a smile by the tone of her voice. “I’m sure the doctor will be right in.”

“Can you just tell me if she’s got brain damage?”

Brain damage? I inwardly laughed. I’m here! I’m right in here!

My own voice screamed inside of my head.

“I’m not a radiologist and certainly not a doctor. I can only see the results have been posted.” Her footsteps came a little closer. There was a brush sound.

Was she rubbing Hank somewhere?

He sobbed.

“Oh, Mae. Just open your eyes,” Hank started to beg me all over again. “I can’t be without you. I only found you again a couple of years.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She was comforting my husband.

Get your hands off my boyfriend. If I am in a coma or whatever you want to call this crazy situation, I’m not dying and I will hunt you down.

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat made some shuffling of feet. “Well? Any change?” The gruff sound of Dottie Swaggert’s voice popped into my ears.

Hank cleared his voice, he sniffled.

“No. I was just talking to her.” His voice went back to the normal, big and bad detective tone he used when he was trying to be strong and brave. “Raye was telling me the brain scan results are posted.”

“Raye?” Dottie’s voice held sarcasm. “First name basis?”

Dottie Swaggert was a spitfire. Though I couldn’t see her with my eyes, I was visualizing her in my head and I was sure she was wearing some sort of sweatshirt, tight pair of jeans, hiking boots and her cigarette case in hand. I sure would love to see those pink curlers she snapped in her red hair but as much as I tried to see, it was black.

What I would give for me and Dottie to be sitting in the Happy Trails Campground office right now having a big cup of coffee. Oh. Even using the fresh beans from The Trails Coffee Shop.

My hearing began to fade as the memory of earlier was like lightening flashbacks.

Preorder your copy of Eggnog, Extortion, & Evergreens today!

Recipes and Camping Tips

Recipes and Camping Tips from Mae West, owner of Happy Trails Campground and the Laundry Club Ladies

Lemon Chicken Skillet Style

Ingredients

- 3 tsp all-purpose flour
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 tsp red chili powder
- 3 chicken tenders
- 2 tsp white wine
- 1 tsp lime juice
- 1/2 tsp lime zest
- 3 tsp vegetable oil
- 6 lime slices

Directions

1. In a mixing bowl, add all-purpose flour, salt, and red chili powder. Mix well.

2. Add chicken tenders and coat with the powder mix evenly.

3. Over a medium flame, add vegetable oil followed by chicken tenders.

4. Add white wine, lime juice, and lime zest.

5. Cook for about 3-4 minutes on each side or until the chicken is cooked well.

6. Add lime slices to the skillet and cook until the crust of the chicken turns golden brown.

Camping Tip – Toilet Paper Fire Starter

I don’t know about y’all, but starting a campfire doesn’t come easy for me. In fact, I usually throw a big ole bunch of lighter fluid on it and then hit it with a match. It took a while for that smell to burn off, so I decided to try to use what items I might have in the camper, like used toilet paper rolls!

There are only certain things you can put in a campfire, and a used toilet paper roll is perfect. But it wasn’t the secret sauce. So sitting around a campfire with some other campers, we were talking about this issue I had with starting a campfire.

Someone gave me the best suggestion, and I’m happy to say it worked, and now I can pass it along to you!

Items you need:

Empty toilet paper roll

Old dryer lint

Some type of wax (I used old candles)

Break the wax into chunks.

Layer the lint and wax inside of the toilet paper holder.

You can also melt a little bit of a candle and drizzle the wax around the outside of the tube once you have it stuffed with the lint and chunks of wax.

Voila! Not only are you recycling the toilet paper rolls, you are making a perfect fire starter!

Your Mama’s Biscuits and Gravy Dutch Oven Style

Ingredients

- 1 package Pillsbury Grands Biscuits, I’ve also used gluten free frozen biscuits.

- 1 tbsp oil
- 1 lb. pork sausage, crumbled
- ¼ cup flour
- 2½ cups milk
- ½ tsp onion powder
- 1 tsp pepper
- ⅓ tsp salt

Directions

1. Oil the bottom and sides of the Dutch oven.

2. Arrange the biscuits in the Dutch oven so that they barely touch. They will expand. Leave room for them.

3. Cook the biscuits for 10 minutes and then check. Keep checking until you notice they are cooked through.

4. In a separate skillet cook sausage over medium heat 5-6 minutes. I use my cast iron skillet over the campfire.

5. Stir the flour in the sausage skillet to get it coated. Slowly add the milk and keep stirring.

6. Let the sausage come to a boil. As it starts to thicken, stir constantly. Reduce heat and let it simmer for 2 minutes. Season with salt, pepper and onion powder.

Camping Tip - Reflective Windshield Cover Hack

Can y’all see Mae West or any of the Laundry Club Ladies tent camping? Nope. Me either. But raising four boys, we did a lot of tent camping before we bought our camper. There were many cold nights on the hard ground. I don’t like to be cold. That was a major issue when the kids wanted to go camping in the fall. The cold nights.

Have you ever seen those reflective windshield covers that go along the dashboard in your car to reflect the sun so the inside of your car won’t get super-hot?

Guess what?

The reflective windshield mat is amazing to use in your sleeping bag to keep you warm at night. They fit perfectly inside of a standard sleeping bag and it’s also has a little padding for the hard ground.

No joke! Try it! It’s a tent camping game changer.

Leave a Review

Like this book?

Be sure to leave a review now!

Join Tonya’s newsletter to stay updated with new releases, get free novels, access to exclusive bonus content, and more!

Don’t forget to head on over to Tonyakappes.com to join Tonya’s newsletter, check out all of her books and
join her Reader Group on Facebook.

About Tonya

Tonya has written over 85 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 in her camper.

Learn more about her be sure sure to check out her website tonyakappes.com. Find her on Goodreads, Patreon, Facebook, BookBub, and Instagram

Sign up to receive her newsletter, where you’ll get free books, exclusive bonus content, and news of her releases and sales.

If you liked this book, please take a few minutes to leave a review now! Authors (Tonya included) really appreciate this, and it helps draw more readers to books they might like. Thanks!

Also By Tonya Kappes

Magical Cures Mystery Series

A CHARMING CRIME

A CHARMING CURE

A CHARMING POTION (novella)

A CHARMING WISH

A CHARMING SPELL

A CHARMING MAGIC

A CHARMING SECRET

A CHARMING CHRISTMAS (novella)

A CHARMING FATALITY

A CHARMING DEATH (novella)

A CHARMING GHOST

A CHARMING HEX

A CHARMING VOODOO

A CHARMING CORPSE

A CHARMING MISFORTUNE

A CHARMING BLEND (CROSSOVER WITH A KILLER COFFEE COZY)

A CHARMING DECEPTION

A Camper and Criminals Cozy Mystery

BEACHES, BUNGALOWS, & BURGLARIES

DESERTS, DRIVERS, & DERELICTS

FORESTS, FISHING, & FORGERY

CHRISTMAS, CRIMINALS, & CAMPERS

MOTORHOMES, MAPS, & MURDER

CANYONS, CARAVANS, & CADAVERS

ASSAILANTS, ASPHALT, & ALIBIS

VALLEYS, VEHICLES & VICTIMS

SUNSETS, SABBATICAL, & SCANDAL

TENTS, TRAILS, & TURMOIL

KICKBACKS, KAYAKS, & KIDNAPPING

GEAR, GRILLS, & GUNS

Killer Coffee Mystery Series

SCENE OF THE GRIND

MOCAH AND MURDER

FRESHLY GROUND MURDER

COLD BLOODED BREW

DECAFFEINATED SCANDAL

A KILLER LATTE

HOLIDAY ROAST MORTEM

DEAD TO THE LAST DROP

A CHARMING BLEND NOVELLA (CROSSOVER WITH MAGICAL CURES MYSTERY)

Mail Carrier Cozy Mystery

STAMPED OUT

ADDRESS FOR MURDER

ALL SHE WROTE

RETURN TO SENDER

FIRST CLASS KILLER

A Ghostly Southern Mystery Series

A GHOSTLY UNDERTAKING

A GHOSTLY GRAVE

A GHOSTLY DEMISE

A GHOSTLY MURDER

A GHOSTLY REUNION

A GHOSTLY MORTALITY

A GHOSTLY SECRET

A GHOSTLY SUSPECT

A Southern Cake Baker Series

(WRITTEN UNDER MAYEE BELL)

CAKE AND PUNISHMENT

BATTER OFF DEAD

Kenni Lowry Mystery Series

FIXIN’ TO DIE

SOUTHERN FRIED

AX TO GRIND

SIX FEET UNDER

DEAD AS A DOORNAIL

TANGLED UP IN TINSEL

DIGGIN’ UP DIRT

Spies and Spells Mystery Series

SPIES AND SPELLS

BETTING OFF DEAD

GET WITCH or DIE TRYING

A Laurel London Mystery Series

CHECKERED CRIME

CHECKERED PAST

CHECKERED THIEF

A Divorced Diva Beading Mystery Series

A BEAD OF DOUBT SHORT STORY

STRUNG OUT TO DIE

CRIMPED TO DEATH

Olivia Davis Paranormal Mystery Series

SPLITSVILLE.COM

COLOR ME LOVE (novella)

COLOR ME A CRIME

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 © 2020 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