Last Resort (5 page)

EIGHT

By the time the officer in charge made his way over to Jake and me, half of the campground inhabitants had descended on the trail and were watching what was going on. The entire Hackerman family had somehow weaseled their way inside the yellow crime scene tape and they stood off to the side, knee-deep in the brush, watching carefully. Wayne shook hands with the officer at one point, as if they were old friends. I wasn't sure if Hackerman had seen the medallion or not.

The officer removed his hat when he approached us, his expression more serious than dour. “Folks, I'm Sheriff Morris Larrabee. I apologize for taking so long to get to you, but as you've seen there was a lot of work to do.” He motioned over toward Delilah's pink cart. “You mind if we step over this way for a few minutes?”

We followed him over to the cart, away from the crowd so we could have a little more privacy. He was about Jake's size and the tight-fitting khaki uniform he wore showed a body packed with muscle. Short wisps of salt and pepper hair poked out from beneath the hat and his chin and cheeks were smooth and pink, like he'd just shaved before coming down the trail. There wasn't a wrinkle on him and even his boots had maintained their shine on the dusty trail. I wondered if he'd been a Marine. Which made me think of our airport shuttle driver. Ken.

“So,” he said, placing his hands on his hips. His green eyes were small and shrewd. “You found the victim.”

I nodded. “Yes. We came down here looking for the medallion. My husband spotted it in the bushes when we were sitting on the bench. I went into the woods to grab it and I slipped on a tree root or something and when I landed on the ground, I saw Harvey.”

Larrabee raised an eyebrow. “You'd met him?”

“No. We just got here today. Delilah told us who he was.”

“So you had not met him?” His gaze drifted from me to Jake, then back again. “Either of you?”

We both shook our heads.

He watched us both. “How did you come to sit on the bench?” He glanced at the red golf cart I'd been driving. “Seems to me you already had a comfortable place to sit.”

“We were frustrated,” Jake said.

“
I
was frustrated,” I clarified.

Jake glanced at me, then nodded. “Like Daisy said, we were trying to find the medallion for the game or the hunt or whatever it's called. I happened to see it in the bushes while we were sitting there.”

The sheriff looked at the bench, then toward the crime scene. I half-expected him to walk over and sit down and squint into the woods so he could recreate what we'd described. “And did you see the victim?”

“No, just the medallion,” Jake answered. “We weren't aware the man was there until Daisy fell down.”

Larrabee nodded. He chewed on his lower lip, his gaze never leaving us. I'd done nothing wrong but, under his watchful, unwavering gaze, I suddenly felt like a suspect.

Again.

“You're here on vacation?” he asked.

“We won a trip here,” I said.

“Right,” Larrabee said, as if he already knew this information. “And when did you get here?”

“Earlier today.”

“Was this your first time on the trail?”

“Yes.”

“You've been to other areas of the resort?”

“Mostly up near the camp sites,” Jake answered. “We've been in the clubhouse and to the pool, too, but that's about it.”

“Been into town yet?”

“Town?” Jake asked. “We weren't aware there was much of one.”

The sheriff pressed his lips together and set his hands on his hips, ignoring Jake's comment. “You're visiting from Moose River. Is that correct?”

The sheriff knew more than he was letting on and I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

“Yes,” I said. “Like I said. We won the trip.”

“Fly or drive?”

“Fly.”

Larrabee nodded again and then adjusted the hat on his head. “How are you liking Windy Vista?”

I looked at Jake and he shrugged. “It's been fine until this,” he said. He didn't mention the misleading website or the fact that he'd been lobbying to move to a hotel after discovering we were staying at a glorified campground.

“No other issues?” the sheriff asked. “Everything else fine?”

“Sure,” Jake said.

“Getting along with everyone you've met?”

“Sure,” Jake repeated. I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was becoming irritated.

The sheriff squinted at me. “You sure?”

“Everyone has been perfectly nice,” I said. “It's all been a pleasant surprise.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Delilah does good work here. But I've heard that maybe you weren't getting along with everyone here.”

Jake shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sheriff, I don't think we've been here long enough to do much more than say hi to everyone.”

“And find a dead body,” the sheriff pointed out, his face expressionless.

“Well, yeah. But you know what I mean.”

The sheriff rolled his shoulders like he was trying to relieve tension. “No one you've run into where maybe things didn't go right?”

I suddenly remembered the handshake the sheriff shared with Wayne Hackerman.

“We met the Hackerman family,” I said.

Larrabee shifted his gaze from Jake to me. “Yes, ma'am?”

“Their son jumped out in front of our golf cart,” I explained. “The boy was a little rude and his father was a little...rude.”

“That right?”

“In our opinion, yes,” Jake said curtly. He was done playing nice.

The sheriff hitched his thumbs in his pockets. “Go any further than words?”

I shook my head. “No. A little friendly competition over the medallion, but that was it.”

Larrabee checked over his shoulder, then bit the inside of his cheek again. “Alright, just wanted to see if you'd be honest with me. Off the record? Mr. Hackerman can be a real pain in the rear, but he's generally harmless. He did point me in your direction, but I would've needed to interview you anyway. A lot of hot air, but not much burn. Just avoid him and you'll be fine.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Back on the record. How long are you folks here for?”

“Through the end of the week,” I said, pleased that our impression of Hackerman wasn't off base. I somehow felt validated in getting so irritated with him.

“Alright,” he said. “Goes without saying that I'd ask you to check in with me if those plans change or if you leave the area for an extended period.”

Jake frowned. “So we're suspects?”

“Everyone is at this point, sir,” the sheriff said. “Until I can put together a little more information about the victim and what exactly we have here, I have to consider everything and everyone.”

“We aren't even sure that we're going to stay for the whole week,” Jake said, his temper beginning to flare.

“And all I'd ask is that you notify me if you choose to leave,” Larrabee said calmly.

Jake started to say something, but I reached out and touched his arm.

“We'll let you know if our plans change, Sheriff,” I answered.

Larrabee nodded. “Thank you,” he said. He glanced at the crime scene, then back at us. “One last question for you folks. Anything I need to know about?”

I stared at him blankly.

“I'll have to run backgrounds on both of you, just because it's standard procedure,” the sheriff said. “Anything you want to make me aware of now so it saves us time later on?”

I looked at Jake, who was already doing that thing where he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air.

“Well, you might say we're experienced,” I said slowly. “Because this isn't our first time discovering a dead body.”

NINE

Jake collapsed on the couch when we got back to the cabin. “This is utterly ridiculous.”

“Which part?” I asked, sitting down next to him. I tried to ignore the mosquito bites and scratches covering my legs and tucked them underneath me.

“All parts,” he said. “But the part about not being able to leave, mainly.”

“You want to leave?”

He raised his eyebrows, his expression incredulous. “Yes, I want to leave! This isn't a vacation. This isn't a resort. This isn't what we were promised. And apparently we can't go six months without finding a dead guy.” He held up his index finger. “I have one absolute rule for our vacations. No dead bodies. That's it. That's my only rule.” He folded the finger down and made a fist. “And that rule has been broken.”

He was exaggerating, of course. He was overreacting and freaking out a little, which was usually my department. But he was taking the helm on this one.

“We can leave,” I told him.

“No, we can't,” he said, frowning. “Sheriff Larra-whatever said we can't.”

“That isn't what he said at all,” I explained. “He said we could leave.”

“He didn't mean it, though.”

“Of course he did.”

“Daisy.” His voice was stern. “We told him about dead Olaf in the coal chute. Pretty sure he's looking for a way to tie us to dead Harvey in the woods.”

“No, he isn't,” I insisted. “Because we aren't murderers! We didn't kill Olaf—and that's public record—and there's no way we could have killed Harvey. We didn't even know him!”

“Still. These small town sheriffs and law enforcement seem to have a way of inventing evidence and irrational theories.”

“The only one being irrational is you.” The frown on his face deepened and I repositioned my leg so I could reach one of the bites. I scratched at it. “Besides, you seem to be overlooking something.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“That I don't want to leave.”

He threw his head back dramatically and stared up at the ceiling. “Of course not. Who would want to leave all this?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

“I genuinely don't know.”

I grabbed his legs and pulled them across my lap. “I'll assume it wasn't rhetorical and answer it seriously.”

He grunted, but kept his eyes on the ceiling.

“I have two reasons why I don't want to leave,” I said.

“Two?”

“Yes. Two.” He didn't say anything, just continued staring upward, so I continued. “One, if we leave now, it makes us look bad. Like we had something to do with that guy's death. The sheriff seems fairly sane, so I don't think he'd give us too much trouble if we went home. But, honestly? If we leave now, it looks like we're leaving because we found that guy.”

He didn't say anything, but his eyes were open so I knew he hadn't gone to sleep and was most likely still listening to me.

“And reason number two is that I don't want to give up my vacation,” I said.

“We can go somewhere else,” Jake offered. “Anywhere else. Sky's the limit.”

I gently squeezed his ankles. They were covered with red welts, too. “But we're already here. I don't want to go anywhere else. We don't have another place to go to and if we did pack up and leave, it would take us half a day to get to anywhere. And then we'd be tired and we'd lose another day. I don't want to lose a day.” I squeezed his ankles again. “I want my vacation. With you.”

“Oh my God,” he moaned. “You're playing the I-want-to-spend-time-with-you card. You know I cave to that every time.”

I bit back a smile. “I'm aware of that, yes. But it's true. I do want to spend time with you and I don't want it interrupted and if we leave now, it won't feel like a vacation.”

“We could drive to the airport and hop a flight to Hawaii,” he said. “We could be lying on a beach and sipping a drink with an umbrella in it by midnight.”

“And you'd have to get a second job to pay for it,” I countered.

“You could get a job.”

I waited for a moment. “Okay. You call the airlines and see if we can get to Hawaii tonight. I'll start looking for a job when we get back. I'm sure I could find something—when I'm not homeschooling the kids, of course. It would be nights, so we probably wouldn't ever see each other. Maybe I could find something waitressing or tending bar. Not terribly fulfilling and I'd have to deal with a lot of drunk men but the tips would be good, so we could pay off the trip to Hawaii faster. Or maybe—”

Jake held up a hand. “Alright. Point taken.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So now you don't want to go to Hawaii? I'm confused.”

He sighed, his entire body sinking further into the couch. “What I want is a stress-free vacation with my wife and I'm questioning whether we can have that here.” He shot me a look. “And before you open your mouth again, I get it. We're staying.”

I wiggled out from under his legs and crawled on top of him, laying my head on his chest. “We're here. We didn't kill anyone. And I don't really want to leave.”

He wrapped his arms around me and I snuggled into him. “I know, I know.”

We rarely got time for just us. With the four kids and his job and the house and everything else going on in our lives, we never found ourselves alone. Even when we went to bed, it seemed like we were joined by one of the kids at some point in the night. Sometimes all three of the younger ones wormed their way in with us. So our time together was at a premium and I didn't want anything to get in the way of our vacation. Even a misrepresented resort. Even a pompous, egotistical jerk of a resort dweller.

And even a dead body.

“So we can stay?” I asked, listening to his heart thump against his chest.

“I think you made that decision for us, Madame President,” Jake answered. “Remember, I'm only the vice president of this family.”

I pressed my head closer, inhaling the scent of his aftershave. “I'm glad we're on the same ticket.”

“Yes. For sure.”

“But seriously.” I lifted my head up and looked at him. “You're okay staying here? If you really want to leave, we can. I won't make you stay.”

He tucked his chin to his chest and smiled at me. “I'm okay staying here, yeah. But can we try not to find any more dead bodies?”

I laid my head back down on his chest and scratched my mosquito bites and smiled. “I will stay out of the bushes.”