Mr. Robinson’s camper looked vacant. Strange since the sun had been up for at least two hours.
I, CJ Turley, nosy caretaker of the tiny house community, Heavenly Acres, couldn’t resist turning the doorknob in front of me. You’d think I’d have learned from my past adventures, but no…here I went again.
“Hello? Mr. Robinson?” I stepped inside. The shades were drawn—I wondered why. I didn’t know the man well, but he kept the outside area clean. The exact opposite now greeted me.
An overturned ottoman, an overwhelming amount of dishes in the sink, and an overflowing trashcan made me wonder whether Mr. Robinson had been robbed…or worse.
I glanced back outside. Not seeing his golf cart anywhere, I headed to the back of the one-room home. Blankets were strewn off the bed. I couldn’t tell whether a crime had occurred, or the man was simply a slob. Still, it warranted a call to my boyfriend and park ranger, Eric Drake.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” Eric’s smile came through the phone in his voice.
“Good morning. Have you seen Mr. Robinson today?”
“No, why?”
“His camper looks trashed and the golf cart is gone. I don’t remember seeing him yesterday, either.”
“Despite how clean he keeps the campsites, the interior of his home is vastly different. I’ll be there in a few minutes and take a look around.”
“Thank you.” I hung up and stepped outside to take a seat at the concrete picnic table. Eric never failed to come to my rescue, unless he was too far away. Having someone to rely on was the best feeling ever.
While I waited, my uncle Larry Acres, and my best friend, Mags, stopped by on their daily morning walk. Before she met my uncle, Mags had been my ever-present sidekick. I had to admit I missed her. “Hey, you two.”
“What’s up?” Mags sat next to me. “It isn’t like you to be idle on someone else’s property.”
“I’m waiting for Eric. Neither of us have seen Mr. Robinson in a day or two.”
“That isn’t unusual. The man often goes camping in the woods. You know that.” She leaned back against the table and motioned for Larry to join us.
He planted a kiss on my cheek and sat next to Mags. “You look worried.”
“I’ve got a feeling,” I said.
“Oh, no.” Mags sighed. “That’s never a good sign. Can’t you go more than three months without finding danger?”
My eyes widened. “Who said anything about danger?” The feeling in my gut, that’s who.
“I see it in your eyes.” Mags gave a definitive nod. “Yep, trouble is coming. Where’s that trouble-finding dog of yours?”
Caper had a talent for scouting out mysteries that may or may not—all right, always—put me in dangerous positions, but I took offense at anyone else mentioning it. “I left her at home because it looks like rain.”
“Ah. What did she do now?” Mags grinned.
I sighed. “Chewed up my new phone case.” I held up what had once been pink and sparkly but now was sparkless and had a jagged edge where the glitter and liquid had dripped out.
“That’s unfortunate. Best get a new case before you drop your phone.” Mags patted my arm, a consoling expression on her face. “Why don’t you and Eric come over for supper tonight?”
“There’s no room in your house.” Mags’s cluttered tiny house could barely fit her, much less four adults.
“Silly, we’ll eat in the new gazebo Larry built. See you at five. We’re having breakfast for supper and I promise to have lots of chocolate gravy.” She headed for the road, pausing long enough to wave her fingers goodbye before linking her hand with Larry’s and strolling away.
A light drizzle had started before Eric arrived. He jumped from his side-by-side and jogged to where I sat under an awning. “It’s going to downpour in a bit.” He grabbed my hand, and we dashed to the camper.
Eric stopped inside. “This is how his place always looks.”
“Isn’t it strange that no one has seen him, and he didn’t tell anyone he was leaving?”
“A little.” He glanced around the room. “What’s even stranger though is that the gun cabinet is unlocked and his rifle is gone. Hunting season doesn’t start for another week.”
I hadn’t recognized that the curio cabinet holding deer figurines was also a gun cabinet. “Maybe he’s poaching?”
Eric shook his head. “He wouldn’t do that. Do you have a raincoat in your cart?”
“Yes, why?”
“We’re going for a ride.” He gave me a lopsided smile and dashed back to his side-by-side.
I fetched my clear raincoat from my cart, put it on and pulled up the hood, then hurried to join him. “Should we stop and get Caper?”
Eric laughed. “If something’s amiss, she’ll find out what. Sure, let’s go get her.”
Twenty minutes later the rain fell in buckets and a happy pup sat on the seat between us. I ruffled the hair between her ears. “You’re a handful, you know that?” I’d fallen in love with the rowdy puppy I’d inherited when my grandmother died. I glanced at Eric. “Any idea where we’re going?”
“His favorite camping place when he wants to be alone. It’ll take about an hour. There’s snacks and water bottles in the back.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him sitting happily by a campfire with a cup of coffee in his hand. Don’t borrow trouble.”
“It’s like you don’t even know me.” I grinned.
“Oh, but I do.” He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. “Why are you looking for Robinson anyway?”
“I received an email that I think is meant for him.” I pulled a sheet of paper from my pocket. “Someone wants to reserve spot ten. We no longer have a number ten, so it has to be for Blue Lake Campground.” After the last three mysteries I was involved in included, to some extent, house number ten, I’d asked the landowner to remove the tiny house and make the plot a community garden. He’d agreed, and I couldn’t wait until spring to plant some vegetables.
“I suppose it could mean site 110, and someone forgot to add the one.” Eric shrugged. “Not many people camp this time of year. The mornings and nights are too cold.”
That’s what I’d thought upon receiving the email, but the world held a surprising number of weird people. Plus, some people still camped in campers rather than tents, so I hadn’t thought too much about it.
I leaned back and propped my feet on the dashboard, listening to the rain hit the canvas roof over us. In the warmer weather, the canvas stayed folded in the back, but today I was grateful for its covering. I shivered under my sweatshirt and raincoat, wishing I’d worn my boots.
“Would you rather we turn around?” Eric cast me a quick glance.
“No, I’ll warm up eventually.”
“There’s a blanket in that bag in the back.”
“Awesome.” I knelt and leaned over the seat.
The vehicle hit a pothole. My head banged the pole holding up the canvas. I somersaulted over the seat and landed on my back in the mud. I hated mud. Mud brought on a fear of drowning after I’d almost died face down in the mud almost a year ago. I stared at the sky and blinked against the rain. I might drown, but it would be by rain this time.
Eric leaned over me. “Can you move? I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize the hole was quite that deep.”
I wiggled my feet, then held up a hand. “I’ll take that blanket now.”
He frowned. “Did you hit your head? Does anything hurt?”
“No, I mean, yes. I hit my head on the pole, but now that the breath has returned to my lungs, nothing hurts.”
He pulled me to my feet and into his arms. “I really am sorry.”
“Maybe I should drive.” I smiled up into his face.
“Sweetheart, we’d both wind up in the mud then.” He cupped my face and kissed me before helping me back in the vehicle, then fetched the blanket and wrapped it around me. “Let’s go find our friend.”
The rain continued to pour from a slate-gray sky until the cold wet seeped into my bones. I really hoped Mr. Robinson had a fire going so I could dry off.
“Almost there.” Eric drove across a shallow creek and up a hill.
The further we went, the more convinced I was that our friend had started hunting early. Unless he hunted on private land with permission, Eric would have to issue him a fine. It wouldn’t be easy for my kindhearted man.
“Here we go.”
Through the trees I spotted a bright yellow tent. “Thank goodness.”
We parked next to the tent and a sodden fire pit. I glanced around, disappointed not to see a fire. “Do you think he’s in the tent?”
“Maybe. Go on, Caper, do your thing.” Eric set my dog on the ground.
She shook her fur against the rain, then darted toward the tent. Caper wasn’t a dummy. She knew tents often held food.
I jumped down and followed her inside. The last thing Mr. Robinson would want is torn bags of food strewn around. I parted the flap. “Caper?”
My eyes adjusted to the gloom.
Sure enough, Mr. Robinson held a coffee cup in his hand. What marred the picture before me was the bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
- Publisher : Winged Publications
- Publication date : November 23, 2019
- Language : English
- Print length : 244 pages
- ISBN-10 : 1947523783
- ISBN-13 : 978-1947523784