The Murder Pit (24 page)

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Enjoy THE MURDER PIT?

Here’s an exclusive look at LAST RESORT, the second book in the Moose River mystery series.

ONE

The airport shuttle careened to the left and Jake’s body slid into mine.

“Really hoping I don’t need to visit the E.R before we get to the gate,” he said.

“I know first aid,” I said.

We were on our way to our first vacation since we’d gotten married. It was a pseudo-honeymoon; at least, that’s what we were calling it. At Olga Stunderson’s urging, I’d entered us in a drawing at the mortuary. I couldn’t quite understand why the mortuary was offering a free vacation as a prize—and what was in it for them—but she’d shoved a pen in my hand when I’d stopped by one afternoon after her brother’s murder had been solved and forced me to fill out the form. Two weeks later, we received a call that we’d won, which seemed like a just reward after the mess of finding a body in our basement.

But we hadn’t gone right away, as we’d spent some money remodeling the basement and coal chute so that it could never be used as a dumping spot for dead bodies ever again. So we planned the trip for a few months later, to coincide with the beginning of. I felt comfortable leaving the kids for a few days with my parents so that we could take a little quiet time for ourselves. We’d parked the car in a lot just outside of the airport in Minneapolis and were now fearing for our lives as our driver seemed determined to win a race we didn’t know we were participating in.

The loudspeaker in the shuttle crackled to life. “Folks, my name’s Ken and I’m your shuttle driver this morning. I’m a little different than your other shuttle drivers.”

“Unlicensed?” Jake whispered to me.

I responded by elbowing in the ribs.

“Folks, back when I was in the Marine Corps—SEMPER FI!—in  San Diego, well this one morning I was trying to make my flight and my old buddy Jasper said he knew a short cut to the airport. Turns out he didn’t know squat and I ended up missing my flight, which meant I missed out on a little R and R with this cute little girl up in San Francisco I’d met a few weeks before,” he said. His voice was inordinately loud for six in the morning. “Well, folks, on that day, I promised myself that I would make sure no one would ever miss their flight again on my watch.”

“He knew he was going to be an airport shuttle driver back then?” I whispered.

Jake nodded solemnly. “It’s a calling.”

The shuttle jerked forward as Ken dropped the accelerator to the floor again and we gripped the arm rests to avoid being launched through the shuttle’s windshield.

“I promise you today,” he hollered into the speaker. “No one is going to miss their flight on account of me. So I’m a little different than all of the other drivers.”

“You don’t say,” Jake whispered.

“Nothing, and I repeat nothing, will prevent me from getting you folks to your airline on time this morning,” he shouted. “Sit back and enjoy the ride!”

Seven minutes later, the shuttle approached the airport terminal, the bus leaning on two wheels around a curve as it skidded to a halt in front of our airline’s entry door. We grabbed our bags, handed Ken a couple of folded bills and got out just before he slammed the doors closed. He hit the accelerator and peeled out on his way to his next stop.

“We could’ve just had him drive us to the resort,” I said as we walked into the terminal.

“Probably would’ve beaten the plane,” Jake said.

The airport was more crowded than I’d expected for six in the morning and we made our way into the security line with the other travelers.

“Kids will be fine, right?” I asked as we serpentined our way through the line.

“They’ll be fine.”

“They won’t lose any of them, right?”

“If they do, let’s hope it’s the one we like the least.”

“Jake.”

He put his around me and kissed my forehead. “They’ll be fine. We’re not even gone for a week and we can Skype them if you want to see them.”

“Like my parents will know how to use Skype.”

“Well, of course they won’t know how,” Jake said. “Will can show them.”

“Good point.”

We threw our bags on the conveyor belt, partially disrobed so that TSA could see we weren’t planning on attempting to hijack anything, and made it through the x-ray machine and scanner a few minutes later. We grabbed our stuff, slipped our shoes back on and headed to our gate, stopping to grab coffee before we found seats in the gate area while we waited.

I took the lid off my coffee and blew across the surface. “We should’ve just driven. It would’ve only been about a three hour drive.”

Jake shrugged. “We won a trip that included airfare. Feels more like a vacation if we’re terrorized by an airport shuttle driver and frisked by TSA.”

I nodded, sipping at the coffee. “I guess. I’m just hoping it’s as advertised.”

Jake took a long swallow of his coffee, wincing as he burned his tongue. He set the coffee on the empty seat next to me. “It’s a lakefront resort. Five stars. All expenses paid. It’s going to be awesome.”

The resort’s website had, indeed, looked awesome. Views of the lake. Large spacious rooms. Restaurants. Beaches. Access to boats. Bonfires and concerts at night.

Minnesota summers were the best part of living in the coldest state in the Union. Warm temperatures during the day, cool temperatures at night. Breezes off the lakes. Sure, there could me mosquitoes the size of birds and sometimes the humidity flared but, overall, it was a pretty perfect place to vacation.

And we needed a break. Between the kids, Jake’s job and the ongoing renovation project of the house, we were both exhausted. We needed a chance to recharge our batteries. So when I’d gotten the call that I’d won the drawing for the trip to Windy Vista Resort on Lenzen Lake north of Duluth, I’d jumped at it. Not surprisingly, Jake hadn’t needed much convincing. We’d grabbed a calendar and found our dates and booked the trip.

The woman at the podium tapped the microphone she was holding and the loudspeaker crackled. She announced that boarding was about to begin and I felt my excitement ratchet up a notch.

Jake patted my arm and voiced what I was thinking. “I’m excited. Can’t believe you won it.”

“I know. I never win anything.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You won me.”

“Best prize ever,” I said, reaching down and rubbing his thigh through the cargo shorts he wore.

He grinned. “We’re going to have a good time.”

I nodded and smiled at him. “You’re right. It’s going to be great. It’s a lakefront resort and it’s free. What could go wrong?”

LAST RESORT, the second book in the MOOSE RIVER mystery series will be available June 1, 2014.