Bats and Bones (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries) (4 page)

Mid-Saturday Morning

They all
began to talk at once and the dogs promptly went crazy. Larry handed Cuba’s
leash to Mickey and took charge.

“Everyone
stay here. Don’t move!” he said and approached the cave around the open side of
the boulders. Always prepared, Frannie thought, as he pulled a small flashlight
from one of his cargo pockets and held it overhead, aiming it down behind the
boulders.

“I think
it’s the host lady,” he said. “And I don’t think there’s much chance but, Jane
Ann, will you come up and see if she has a pulse?”

Donna
nudged Rob. “You should go see,” she said in a loud whisper. Rob hesitated,
looking uncomfortable. Larry heard her.

“Not now,
Donna. I just want Jane Ann to check for signs of life, and then we’ll have to
wait for the authorities,” he said. Donna folded her arms and looked away,
offended. But soon she craned her neck back toward the cave.

Jane Ann
followed Larry’s route and stepped around him, stopping for just an instant as
fresh shock played over her face when she saw what he revealed with his light.
Then she became all business and ducked behind the boulders. They could hear
her calling Maeve Schlumm’s name, trying to get a response.

“Be careful
not to touch anything you don’t have to,” Larry said.

Jane Ann
stood, her face washed of color, and shook her head. “She’s gone.”

Larry and
Jane Ann exited the cave and Larry pulled out his cell phone to call 911. He
shook his head and looked at his phone. “No signal here. I probably need to go
back up to the parking lot.”

“Can I come
with you?” Frannie asked. Larry hesitated and then, seeing her forlorn face,
nodded.

“Everyone
else stay here, though, and don’t let anyone near this place. We’ll turn anyone
back that we meet but there may be hikers coming from the other way.”

Donna
interrupted. “Is it really the host lady?”

Larry and
Jane Ann both nodded. “She’s wearing the same clothes she had on last night,”
Jane Ann said.

Frannie
felt numb. The little she knew of Maeve Schlumm from the night before couldn’t
be farther from the warm personality of her own mother, but somehow Maeve’s
death made the recent loss of her mother fresh and raw. The pleasant warmth of
the morning and the ravine seemed to dissipate under a gray chill. She fell in
behind Larry as he headed down the path.

“How did
she die, could you tell?” Frannie asked.

“Her head
had been bashed in on one side.”

“Do you
think she fell?”

“Possible.”
Larry shrugged.

“But why
would she have been out here last night? We saw her go after those bikers and
it was almost 10:00, so it must have been after that.”

“Maybe it
was this morning—she might have put the same clothes back on to come out
here for…I don’t know.”

“Larry, is
it possible she might have been murdered?”

“We need to
just wait and let the authorities handle it. Not much point in speculating.”

When they
reached the boardwalk leading to the parking lot, Larry tried his phone again.
This time he was able to connect. Putting his phone away, he said, “We’re
supposed to wait in the parking lot—they’ll contact the ranger.”

They waited
a seemingly long ten minutes, sipping water in the baking sun and not talking.
A brown DNR pickup raced into the parking lot and screeched to a stop.

A very
young, very tall skinny man emerged. Frannie’s first impression was of the kids
she had taught in junior high. How depressing that authority figures keep
getting younger.

Larry
offered his hand to the ranger.

“I’m Larry
Shoemaker—we spoke briefly last night. I’m the one who called.”

“Brayton
Phillips—the head ranger,” the young man replied. “You’re the retired
cop, right? I talked to so many people last night,” he added almost
apologetically. His face was flushed and he kept pulling at his collar. A death
in his park was obviously a new experience for him. “Um, this woman is at
Bogg’s Retreat? Were there others down there with you?”

“Yes, our
friends, four of them. I asked them to wait and turn anyone else back.”

The ranger
wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “You wait here. I’ll send them back.
The county sheriff should be here in just a few minutes. If it’s okay with him,
you can go back to the campground but don’t talk to anyone else. I will need to
talk to Maeve’s husband before he hears from someone else, you understand?”
It’s hard to look stern when you also look twelve.

He noticed
a well-used blue Honda and peered inside. Frannie said, “That’s Mrs. Schlumm’s
car, isn’t it? I remember seeing it by their camper.”

The ranger
did not answer as he checked the doors. He was not going to share much with
them. The car was not locked. A purse sat open in the front seat, contents
spilled.

He left the
car and hurried down the boardwalk that led to the trail.

The rest of
the group had just arrived at the parking lot when a sheriff’s car rolled in. A
large man emerged with a trim woman, both in uniform.

Larry
stepped forward. “I’m Larry Shoemaker, Sheriff. I made the 911 call.”

“Sheriff
Buzz Ingrham, and this is Deputy Linda Smith,” the sheriff said. “In which cave
did you find this woman?”

“Bogg’s
Retreat—one of the last ones on the left trail.” Larry pointed in the
general direction. “The ranger is down there.’

 
“I’m familiar with it. Linda, will you
please get everyone’s names and information? Then you can all return to the
campground. Soon as the county doc gets here, we’ll be up to talk to you
further.”

He also
cautioned them against speaking to anyone else and headed down the trail.
Deputy Smith pulled out a notebook and very quickly noted their names, home
addresses, and camping sites. She was fortyish with thin lips and pinched
features, but when she was done, she thanked them and smiled, transforming her
face into a much warmer one.

“Please go
back to your campsites and we’ll be up to get your statements shortly.” As she
turned to leave, Donna touched her elbow. “Are we all
suspects
?” she demanded.

“Everyone
will be interviewed, ma’am.”

They
trudged back to the campground, the dogs seeming as relieved to be back to the
relative familiarity as the humans.

“I wonder
why Dave hadn’t reported his wife missing earlier this morning,” Frannie said.

“Maybe he
knew she was leaving and didn’t expect her back yet. Or their home is near here
and she goes home occasionally,” Jane Ann said.

“Maybe he
killed her!” Donna said. “He wasn’t very happy with her last night.”

“Based on
that, we’d all be dead,” Jane Ann said.

 
They fell into lawn chairs, all in some
phase of shock.

“I’m going
to have a smoke,” Mickey announced, launching himself out of his chair and
heading for his camper.

“Mickey!”
Jane Ann said, turning to watch him rummage in one of the storage compartments.
He produced a smashed pack and a lighter.

“I know, I
know, this is my emergency stash. Just one. It isn’t every day we find a body.”

She sighed
while Larry admonished him. “Mick, keep your voice down.”

“Sorry.” He
sank down in his chair again.

Jane Ann picked
up a magazine and leafed through with quick, unfocused glances at each page.
When her husband laid the battered pack of cigarettes on the arm of his chair,
she snatched them and stuck them in her pocket. “I’ll take care of these.”
Mickey grimaced like a teenager losing his car keys.

Donna paced
from the fire pit to the road peering in both directions and not seeing much.
Rob fiddled with a radio, trying to tune in a local news station and Frannie
just sat in a daze.

Larry ran
his hand across his short gray stubble of hair, one hand on his hip. “Let’s
think about something else. What’s on the menu for tonight? Are we cooking?”

Frannie
perked up a little. “We have chicken marinating. Donna was going to make potato
salad.”

Donna
turned around. “I did. I make
amazing
potato salad. And I think we have several salads left from last night.”

“A little
Encore Buffet,” Jane Ann said. “And we never got to the apple cobbler last
night.”

“So we’ll
need a fire tonight. . .probably start it about 3:00, d’ya think? We should
have good coals by 5:00 then,” Larry said.

Just then
Ranger Phillips pulled up in his truck. When he noticed Stub and his friends
packing up, he rolled down his passenger window motioning them over. The group
could not hear what was being said, but they could guess and it was obvious
that the news that the men had to stay put for the time being was not well
received.

The ranger
then drove on down the road toward the host camper. Stub headed across the road
toward them. “What’s going on? He told us we can’t leave! We have a site
reserved in Nebraska tonight that we’ve already paid for. What’s happening?”
The night before, Stub had maintained amazing equanimity in the face of all his
mishaps but it seemed his buddies were getting fed up and he was taking the
brunt of it.

“We aren’t
supposed to talk about it. I think the sheriff will be here soon and explain
everything,” Larry said.

“Sheriff!
But what—?” he stopped as he noticed Larry shaking his head. “Some kind
of terrorist alert or—“ He trailed off and gave up, returning to his
friends. They gathered around receiving only a shake of the head, and shot
questioning, even angry, glances over at Larry.

“Well. Is
it time for lunch yet?” Mickey said, trying to lighten things up.

“Didn’t you
guys tell us your camping trips were always so relaxing?” Rob said.

Frannie
took charge. “It’s not lunch time, but I’m going to make another pot of coffee
and we have muffins left. We might as well cool it now, because sounds like
there are no other options until the sheriff gets here.” She carried the
drained pot into the camper.

Larry
followed her in. “You’ve been pretty quiet. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s
just….” She stopped and set the pot she was filling in the sink and turned to
face him. “Without even seeing her, it reminds me of Mom.”

Larry
looked at her, puzzled. “I can’t say I knew Maeve well, but in no way did she
remind me of your mother.”

“I know,
except that she’s gone and it makes no sense. Do you suppose she
has—had—kids?” Now she was unable to hold back tears, not sobs,
just soft grief.

He put his
arms around her. “I’m sure we will know before long.” They stayed that way a
minute, and then she turned back to the sink, splashed her face and finished
the coffee. A couple of deep breaths helped and she took the pot back outside
and plugged it in.

They
gathered around the picnic table, mugs and water bottles in hand. Jane Ann had
cut up more fruit and everyone helped themselves to a second breakfast. Frannie
watched her sister-in-law organize the table, already feeling wilted and dowdy.
Jane Ann looked fresh and crisp in the same simple khaki capris and white
blouse she had started out in that morning. It wasn’t fair. Good thing she
liked Jane Ann.

“Boy, the
atmosphere is really oppressive, in more ways than one,” Mickey said.

Rob said,
“I wonder when they’ll let us leave the park.”

“Yeah,
there’s that winery that we wanted to check out this afternoon,” Donna said. “I
bet the tasting room is air-conditioned.”

“Unless
they determine Maeve’s death was an accident, I don’t expect we’ll be going
anywhere soon,” Larry said. “You might have to plan on turning the air on in
your camper and taking a nap instead.”

“The good
news is it’s supposed to be much nicer tomorrow, cooler and lower humidity. The
bad news is there’s a storm warning out later tonight as the front moves
through.” Mickey was their semi-official weather watcher.

“Wouldn’t
want a boring night, now would we?” Frannie said.

The talk
returned to Maeve’s death. “Still can’t imagine what she was doing out there,”
Donna said.

“There was
a flashlight on the floor of the cave,” Jane Ann said, “So maybe she was out
there in the middle of the night.”

“Even if
she went on an early morning hike, she may have had a flashlight along to see
in the caves,” Rob said.

Frannie shook
her head. “I’ve been thinking about that. I sat out here with my coffee from
just after sunup. I never saw her car or her go by. I took Cuba for a walk
early but I didn’t go by their camper. Donna, did you see her car when you took
Bugger out?”

Donna sat
forward. “No! But I wasn’t really looking,” she said. She looked disappointed
to have missed an exclusive piece of information—and probably the
attention that would bring.