“She’s not talking about TV. This is real life,” Octo-Cat spat. Never mind that he also loved filling his days with TV and film. That is, when he wasn’t napping, eating, or demanding ridiculous things of me.
“Who’s been murdered, then? Not Sharon.” Chester yawned and licked at his paw.
I sighed.“Sharon is fine. She was just here a second ago, remember? Anyway, the person who was murdered is named Junetta. She’s the manager at this campground.”
Chester watched a bird feed its young on the TV.“Which campground?” he asked absent-mindedly.
“This one,” Octo-Cat hissed. “Yeesh, it’s like you don’t listen at all.”
“I am listening,” the white cat drawled. “But where are we? That’s what I don’t understand. Sharon and I travel back and forth so much, it’s hard for me to keep track of where we are at any given time.”
“Katahdin,” I supplied.
“No, I don’t know anyone by that name. I’m not allowed to leave the RV,” Chester explained, although clearly misunderstanding. “So the only people I meet are the ones who come inside. Like you.”
I decided to try a different tactic.“Sharon made a pie earlier today. Did you see her put anything into it?”
He shrugged.“The usual. Butter, eggs, flour, berries. Why are you so interested in the pie? It’s not very good. Most humans don’t even like it all that much.”
“Did you—?” I began, but then the door swung open and Sharon’s boisterous voice filled the space.
“If you decide to buy one of these beauties, give them my name. It just may get you a special deal.”
“I’ll do that,” Charles promised, accepting a business card and gingerly placing it inside his wallet.
“Everything okay in here?” Charles asked when he spotted me on the couch with the two cats.
“Everything’s just peachy keen,” I said with a syrupy smile, even though it was the exact opposite of how I felt. We still didn’t know whether Sharon was to blame, and even if I talked to Chester all night, I doubted I’d make any progress with him.
Well, Chester would be in for a rude awakening once his reality show began filming. Something told me the producers wouldn’t be content to film a lazy cat napping all day.
And here I’d always thought Octo-Cat was spoiled!
Chapter Seventeen
“Well, that got us exactly nowhere,” I confided in Charles as we strolled back to our camper.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his side.“The police are here. Sooner or later, they’ll figure this out. Why don’t we just try to enjoy a relaxing night in?”
I chuffed at this notion.“Relaxing went out the window several hours ago. Besides, if the police are still here, then they may come back to ask us more questions.”
“Let’s try not to worry about that until it happens,” Charles said softly. “Hey, we’re all dressed up with only one place to go. Let’s have some dinner and just enjoy each other’s company. We can still enjoy what’s left of this vacation. It’s not too late.”
I blinked up at the darkening sky. It had already been such a long and exhausting day.“Can we finish watching the movie from last night?” I asked, thinking back to the happy little cartoon characters.
Charles sucked air in through his teeth.“Oooh. Again? We already finished that.”
I jabbed a finger at this chest.“You finished it. I fell asleep.”
He laughed at my bluster.“And what makes you think you won’t fall asleep again?” he asked, but as soon as we returned to the trailer, he started up the show for me.
And, yes, Charles was correct.
I fell asleep fairly early in.
He woke me up to eat a dinner that he’d prepared while I dozed. We watched some more.
And then I fell asleep again.
Charles must have carried me to bed, because that’s where I was when I woke up with a chittering raccoon on my chest.
“Pringle,” I whispered in irritation. “Go away!”
“Hey, lady. I solved the murder,” he ground out, wiggling his fingers in a silly jazz hands maneuver. “Come with me. I’ll tell you everything, then you can go back to sleep. Cross my heart.”
I glanced over to Charles who was still sleeping peacefully tucked in tight beneath the comforter. Gosh, I loved him so much. He didn’t deserve the level of crazy I regularly brought to our lives. Yet what would I do without him? He was my rock in a world of sand.
“Make it quick,” I grumbled, grabbing my robe and tying it tight around me, then shoving my bare feet into sneakers before following the raccoon out of the camper.
Other than a few scattered interior lights and the stars above, the campground lay obscured in complete darkness. Luckily, I always had my phone on me—a force of habit—so I clicked into the flashlight app and used it to illuminate my steps.
“Where are you taking me?” I called after Pringle as he scampered ahead.
“Almost there,” he called back, moving faster and faster. We walked for a long time.
But despite my questions, Pringle didn’t explain, and he didn’t stop. Not until we reached a large clearing in the woods where half a dozen wooden tables had been set out for picnickers.
“It’s okay. You can come out now!” Pringle called into the night.
I shone my light toward the tree line just in time to see the massive grizzly crawl out to join us in the clearing.
Oh my!
I’d been so caught up in Junetta’s murder that I’d completely forgotten about poor Gloria and her plea for help. I was just about to tell her that—and to apologize for not being able to help—when a bullet whizzed past me and lodged itself in a thick tree trunk a few feet behind and to the side of Gloria.
I spun and saw a man, probably about sixty years of age, holding a smoking hunting rifle.“Get back!” he cried. “There’s a wild grizzly on the loose!”
“It’s okay. I’m okay!” I said, raising my arms to show him I meant no harm. “And she’s not on the loose. This is her home.”
Oh, how I prayed that both Gloria and Pringle had the good sense to remain hidden while I dealt with this gun-toting lunatic.
“Why do you have a gun? This is a protected nature park,” I reminded him rather pedantically.
“For safety and maybe for revenge,” he growled back. “Who are you?”
Uh-oh. I did not like the sound of this one bit.
Still, I tried my best to keep my voice calm.“I’m Angie. My boyfriend and I are staying at the campground. We only just got here today. Who are you?”
“Carl. I came as soon as I heard about Junetta’s passing. I loved her, you know? And whoever killed her is going to pay big time.”
Carl must be the ex-husband Sharon had mentioned, the crazy one who still came around from time to time to try to win her back.
“Well, Carl.” I paused and licked my lips. Suddenly they felt so very dry. “I want justice for Junetta, too,” I continued. “I’m the one who discovered her body.”
I expected him to yell and snarl at me, to demand answers I didn’t have to give, but instead the old man let out a strangled cry and sank to the ground.
The gun clattered at his feet but didn’t go off.
I swooped in and grabbed it, then stood by idly as Carl cried his heart out. I had a million and one questions in that moment. Like why Pringle had brought me here and what Gloria had to do with it. But I had no doubts as to whether the weeping man in front of me was innocent. The man was simply too torn up about his ex’s passing to be the culprit.
As Carl’s sobs grew more and more muted, I heard Pringle and Gloria’s voices rise into the night.
“He brought the exploding lightning,” Gloria whispered in anguish. “He tried to aim it at me. If I die, my cubs won’t make it on their own. Please, Pringle, you have to help us. It’s getting so dangerous here, but where else can we go?”
“Relax, lady,” the raccoon said with his signature lack of empathy. “My human sidekick and I nearly have this figured out. You and the tikes will be fine. Raccoon’s honor.”