A Murky Murder Read online

  “You are married.”

  “He doesn’t know that.”

  That part was true. “You're making this into something it isn’t,” Charli snapped.

  “And you stood there with your hand out to make sure it happened.” Elle grinned. “Maybe it’s just that you are hoping I won’t see what it is. You like the guy.”

  “What if I do?” Then she looked at Elle and saw the look on her face. “You do love to get your digs in.”

  “What good are friends if they aren’t tormenting you almost constantly. It’s part of the job description, especially when they drag you out into the wilderness.” She climbed into the passenger door. “So let’s get on with this camping thing. The sooner we get started the sooner I can get home to civilization.”

  “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way,” Charli said.

  “I know, but I’d rather fool myself that way than by thinking we are going to find evidence a spirit from the lake killed Mr. Carter Block.”

  “You might be right.” Charli felt sure that Carter Block was dead, killed by something or someone out here. She didn’t have much hope of finding him, but it seemed important to determine if there was a meaningful connection between her dreams and his disappearance—something more than just her thinking the dream had something to do with it.

  Charli had concerns that she didn’t want to share with Elle; she had no idea what she was worried about affected her friend or not. She didn’t want to frighten her but felt guilty not warning her that she’d already had the dream, that if her dream was connected to the Lake Woman, things could get weird—spooky. What would a dream be like if you experienced it when you were awake?

  Something told her she was going to find out, whether she wanted to or not.

  Chapter 12

  A Nice Campsite

  Even though Ranger Tanner had said the campsite was a good one, Charli didn’t see anything that made it special. She wondered what made one good or bad. A metal stake with “26” on it and a clip to hold their receipt for the night told them which concrete pad to park the vehicle on. Near it was a covered picnic table and a fire pit. Behind the picnic table was a clearing in the trees where they were obviously supposed to pitch their tent.

  “I suppose we have to put up the tent now,” Elle said.

  “I suppose we do,” Charli agreed, hoping they’d actually brought all the parts and could figure it out.

  Putting up the tent turned out to be much easier than she’d expected. Its internal frame would only go in one direction. When it was upright, they began driving stakes into the ground to hold it in place. “Next time, maybe we should think... motorhome,” Charli said.

  “Next time we should think... stay at home,” Elle said.

  Somehow, by the time Ranger Tanner arrived in his pickup, they actually had created the semblance of a camp. “Not bad for your first time,” he said.

  “Not bad for our last time,” Elle said.

  He laughed. “It’s an acquired taste.” He nodded toward the pile of gear. “You’ve got some good gear for ladies that don’t do much camping. And a lot of it.”

  “We borrowed it from a pawn shop,” Elle said. “Isn’t that what all the high-end campers do?”

  “Not Dorian’s place?” He asked.

  “You know Dorian?”

  “For a long time. He used to camp out here a lot and my folks brought us out too. When I was a kid he told me wild stories around the campfire. When I got older, guess what?”

  “You found out they were legends?” Charli asked.

  “Some. The rest turned out to be true.”

  She wondered why Dorian hadn’t mentioned knowing the ranger.

  “Ready to see the sights?” Roger asked. “The highlights of the crime scene await.”

  Elle looked uncertainly through the trees. “As ready as I’m going to get. Lead the way.”

  He set off, with Elle and Charli in his wake. They hadn’t walked far at all when Tanner pointed to a patch of discolored dirt. “There’s not much to see,” he said, pointing to a patch of discolored dirt. “But this is where the poachers dressed their kill.”

  “Just a stain?” Elle asked. Charli thought she sounded disappointed.

  “Nothing but traces. The blood soaked into the ground and the bits of entrails went to the police lab.”

  Charli looked back toward camp. “The poachers killed the deer here?”

  “At least they brought it here to process it.”

  Elle wrinkled her nose as if something smelled bad. “Process? How do you process a deer?”

  “They skinned it, cut off the antlers and so on, and cut up the carcass so they hide it in the back of a truck. They didn’t want anyone seeing them hauling it around”

  Charli stared back toward their camp. She could make out the top of their tent. “They did that right here and Carter Block’s friends had their tent over there?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And they didn’t hear a thing?”

  “So they say. Of course, they didn’t hear the woman screaming either.”

  “You are suspicious.”

  He pointed to his badge. “That’s why I get the big bucks, Ma’am. I’m trained to listen to my spidey sense when it kicks up a ruckus.”

  “And it’s doing that.”

  “It’s strange enough for Carter Block to disappear like he did. He knew the lake edge pretty well and wouldn’t just go running through the swampy area. He was... if not smarter, at least more knowledgeable than that. Even the real city folk don’t wind up walking into the swamp. And then there were poachers in the area.”

  “Who might’ve killed him,” Elle said.

  “True, but they did it without leaving any trail. If they were tracking him, if they killed him, even if they covered the tracks, the dogs we had out here would’ve smelled his scent.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I’m forming a theory,” he said.

  “We are too,” Elle said.

  “Hence this research trip,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  “Want to swap theories?”

  Charli liked that idea. “Ours isn’t even half-baked yet. And honestly, the two of us are rooting for the scenario that he snuck away and went to Mexico with his girlfriend.”

  “Really? I’d vote for that one myself. It’s at least romantic.”

  “And yours?”

  “Half-baked or less as well. But I’m moving forward on it, and I should be able to give you an update soon. Meantime, I’ll leave you to your research, but I don’t advise you explore too much in the night. There’s often a mist that plays havoc with visibility. Not knowing the area you could get disoriented. And lock up any food and garbage in your car.”

  “Why?” Elle said.

  “Food and garbage are a magnet for black bears and raccoons and other predators.”

  Charli and Elle turned to look at each other. “Bears?”

  He nodded. “They are harmless enough, normally, but they are scroungers. You do not want to interrupt one when he gets his paws on your food or garbage, or have him come into your tent looking for food he smells.”

  “Not on your life,” Elle said.

  “So in the car with it.”

  “Bears?” Elle said again. She looked at Charli. “You brought me out to contend with ghosts and panthers and bears?”

  “Time for me to go,” Ranger Tanner said. “I need to lock up and punch out.”

  “You have a time clock?”

  “Our fully modern ranger station has a time clock and internet... all the latest and greatest conveniences and inconveniences,” he said.

  “You aren’t a fan,” Charli said, trying to sound sympathetic.

  “I’d camp out here if they would let us work that way,” he said. “Call me old school.”

  “We might just do that, old school,” Elle said.

  On his way to his truck, Tanner stopped to put his boot on one of the
tent pegs and push it deeper. “Could be some wind in the morning before dawn,” he said. “You need to make sure the tent is secure.”

  “Fog at night, wind in the morning, screaming panthers, and bears... this place has all the comforts of home,” Elle muttered. “Davy Crockett’s home. Personally, I fail to see the allure of camping.”

  “Need I remind you that our presence here is a consequence of following the leads in your investigation? And I’m sure Davy Crockett was not such a complainer,” Charli said. “Why don’t you get out the bottle of wine you brought? That should help things look better.”

  “Good thinking. I brought some frozen pizza wheels too.” She stopped and looked around. “I don’t suppose there is a microwave in all that junk you hauled along, is there?”

  “Where would you plug it in?” Charli asked.

  Elle smiled. “I know. How about at Ranger Roger Tanner’s house? We could show up with a bottle of wine and the pizza wheels and ask if we could use his microwave. That would be nicer than sitting out here in the damp cold.”

  “But then we’d never figure out this mystery.”

  Elle looked around. “I don’t see how staying out here will help.”

  “The air... the sounds... they’ll influence the dreams. I’ve got a feeling...”

  “A feeling. I was afraid of that,” Elle said as she got a corkscrew out of her bag and opened the wine. “Your feelings brought us here.”

  “Good thing your feeling brought the wine.”

  Chapter 13

  A Girl's Night Camping

  Elle had lied about the pizza wheels, but she had brought a roast chicken from the deli, so they sat at the picnic table and ate the chicken and made the noble sacrifice required of them to ensure the wine wouldn’t go bad.

  “Once you’ve opened a bottle it starts to get stale,” Elle said, refilling their glasses.

  As it grew dark and somewhat cooler, the women went into the tent and assembled the cots Charli had brought. As they shook out Dorian’s musty sleeping bags, Elle made a sour face. “When we are done with this, do we need to chant things or dance around a campfire to make your voodoo work?” Elle asked.

  “It isn’t my voodoo,” Charli said. “And what we need to do is go to bed so I can dream. Besides, no campfires allowed, remember?”

  “Fine.”

  Despite the novelty of camping and their misgivings, the night air and stillness proved to be tranquil and soon they were both sound asleep. This peace lasted until a piercing scream shattered the calmness, reaching them from out in the darkness that surrounded them.

  “Did you hear that?” Charli said, sitting bolt upright. Her hair stood up on the back of her neck. Until that moment, she’d always thought that was something writers invented to show fear, but it was really happening. It was a thing.

  “I’m pretty sure they heard that in New York,” Elle said, clutching her arms.

  “Should we check it out?”

  “Are you nuts? I’m not going out of this tent. If I go out that door, it will be to sit in the car with the doors locked.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “Me? No, but your hot Ranger Tanner did say to make sure we locked up all the food, and I’m feeling like we're on the menu.”

  They sat there waiting. “Maybe it’s gone,” Charli said.

  “As long as it isn’t in here...”

  Eventually, they went back to bed. Charli promised herself she’d lie there and listen, be alert for danger, but sleep came on tiptoes. It wasn’t as restful this time, however.

  After a time, Charli heard a sound. She lifted her head to see Elle getting up. Her friend mumbled something incoherent. She was getting dressed and then Charli saw her bend over to unzip the tent. “Elle, where are you going?” She asked.

  A hand touched her on the shoulder and she jumped. Turning, she saw the old Indian woman of her dreams. She seemed far too solid. She smiled and touched a finger to her lips. “Don’t wake her,” she said. “Go with her in the dream. You can protect her as I taught you.”

  The words evoked a distant memory, a lesson of some kind. She remembered being protected, bathed in a white light that caressed her. She couldn’t recall the threat, but there had been one. Now, as Elle stepped out of the tent, Charli pictured her walking through the dark and suddenly she was beside her. Something else was out there too.

  A power rose up inside Charli. She looked at Elle, her friend, envisioning her surrounded by a soft white light and made her glow softly. The old woman nodded approvingly. “Yes, now her body is safe. All that you need to be concerned with is her talking to the Lake Woman. Your friend isn’t wise about the ways of spirits. We don’t know how she will react when she has to confront a real thing she doesn’t want to believe in.”

  Charli kept the image of Elle in her mind as she hopped up and pulled on her shoes. “The Lake Woman is here?” Charli asked.

  “She’s always here,” the old woman said. “This is her home.”

  Charli left the tent, concerned she might lose Elle’s trail, but the moment she stepped out in the dark, she realized that following her would be easy—they seemed to be connected. A cord of the same energy connected them, winding through the trees toward the lake. “We are connected to the ones we offer protection to,” the woman whispered in her ear.

  Charli shivered at the uncanny way the woman had of getting so close to her without seeming to disturb anything, even the air. But there was no time for that. She set off after Elle. Down near the lake, she came upon Elle standing in a clearing, standing still, her body rigid. She was facing the green figure from Charli’s dream. “Who are you?” She screamed.

  The green woman faced her, not answering, but staring at her with an obvious curiosity. Then she slowly held out a hand and pointed to the water. “My lake,” she said.

  Charli stopped, unsure what to do. There was a bone-chilling quality to the woman’s voice, but she didn’t seem as frightened as when she’d seen her before.

  “Where is he?” Elle said.

  “He?”

  “Carter Block. The man you took.” Elle sounded angrier than anything else.

  “My new husband is home in the lake,” she said simply. “Where he belongs. You didn’t have to leave the charm to convince me to keep him. Now I will rejoin him.” Then she cocked her head and laughed. It was more of a cackle really, Charli thought, then she faded back into the trees.

  Elle started forward, reaching out. “Don’t follow her,” Charli warned.

  Elle jerked. “Charli! Did you see her? The green woman?”

  “Yes, I saw her.”

  “Your friend needs to be reassured,” the Indian woman said. “Hers is not the world of dreams.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I need to get Elle back to the tent.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Elle demanded.

  “Just mumbling to myself,” Charli said, relieved that Elle hadn’t seen or heard the Indian woman. Not that it mattered at the moment, but that was one less thing to explain later.

  Then Elle was blinking. She looked around. “What happened? Why are we here?”

  Charli took the stunned Elle’s arm and led her back to the tent. “You walked here. You left without me. What made you do that, Elle?”

  The question made her pause for a moment, then she resumed walking toward the tent. “I remember a voice, a woman’s voice. Not a scream, just a gentle whisper, but clear, you know?” Charli wasn’t sure she did. “She wanted me to come out and talk to her. It seemed important.” She stopped again. “That green woman told me...”

  “What?”

  “That she took the man. And then you were there... somehow.”

  “Looking for you,” Charli said.

  She led Elle back to her bed. She was still dazed, perhaps only half awake, and when her friend drifted into a troubled sleep, Charli got into her own bed. Now she couldn’t sleep. “Why didn’t she see you?” she whispered to the Indian woman who
still lingered, watching her.

  “I’m not her teacher.”

  “But you are mine.”

  “Your teacher and your grandmother,” she said, then she faded.

  Charli stood by the lake staring at the spot the woman had been. She was stunned. Her grandmother? That was just too much.

  Elle had seen the Lake Woman but not the Indian woman. Did that mean Elle had somehow stepped into her dream, but only partially? Or had Charli invaded Elle’s dream? Or was the Lake Woman real?

  She glanced over at Elle and watched the rise and fall of her breathing. The obvious answer came to mind—that she, Charli, had dreamed the whole thing. Elle had never gotten up, never seen the Lake Woman. In the morning Elle would laugh at her story if Charli decided to tell her.

  If it hadn’t been all a dream, then things were getting incredibly complicated. It meant that Elle had seen someone who existed only in dreams. Charli believed in myths and legends, that they contained kernels of truth, gave people explanations for things otherwise hard to understand, but she didn’t believe in ghosts. Not really. Or did she?

  Charli tossed and turned until the morning light finally began making the world look clear. Elle continued to sleep as Charli got up in the damp morning cold, fired up the propane stove and made coffee.

  “I had a terrible dream,” Elle said.

  Charli turned to look at her friend. Elle was sitting up, holding her arms.

  “Coffee is on. Tell me about your dream.”

  “It seemed so real. I went down to the lake and saw a green woman. I think the one you told me about. She was trying to get me to go with her. She was going to show me where Carter Block was.”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  Elle thought for a moment. Then her mouth came open. “You stopped me.” She stared. “You were there.”

  “Yes,” Charli said, pleased that Elle was remembering it all. That would make things easier and more believable. Or harder and more complicated. “You had wandered near the lake. I brought you back and put you to bed.”