Beaches, Bungalows, and Burglaries~ A Camper and Criminals Cozy Mystery Series

“We can fix it back up in a couple of weeks.” I waved the brochure in the air, running after her, feeling somewhat helpless.

“Listen here, Mae West.” She turned to face me stopping shy of her metal door. “You don’t look like Mae West from the wild west.”

“Mae is a family name and West is my married name.” If I had a dollar for everyone who’d said that to me in the last few years, I’d not be standing in a rundown campground hoping to make a living, which was obviously on hold.

“May I call you Mae?” she asked. I nodded. “There’s a lot more things around here to fix than making it all prettied up like that there brochure.” She grabbed it from me and flipped it over, pointing out the copyright date from decades before. “We need to fix the washer and dryers, vending machine, clean up the lake and did you see the dock?”

“I have all the financial statements.” I bit my lip, my brows furrowed. “All the reports show that the campground is doing good.”

That obviously wasn’t the case.

“Mae, I figure you to be a smart girl. After what happened to you, I’d think you know that sometimes things that are on paper aren’t as they really appear.” She was talking about Paul and his scheme. “Here.” She pulled a set of keys out of her pocket. “She’s all yours. I’ve been dying to get out of this place. Plus, you had some things shipped here. I put them in the storage building over there. Number four.”

“What are these?” My heart beat rapidly and my palms sweat. “Dottie?”

She patted her dirty old camper.

“Them there are the keys to all the locks on the out building and storage units.” She gestured to them. “That sweet husband of yours didn’t pay me the last couple of years. He said that I could live in this junker for free. I’m happy to give you the keys and make you in charge.” She opened the door. “I’ll only be a second to grab my underwear and you can move right on in.”

She re-opened the door and went inside.

“Wait. No. That’s not what I mean.” My mouth dried because all my saliva had apparently flooded my eyes. “I can’t do this anymore. I hate you Paul West!”

I dropped to the ground, not worried if I’d fallen into one of Dottie’s cigarettes or whatever else was on the dirt ground, but I’d had enough. I was broken, and nothing was going to fix me. I buried my head in my hands and sobbed.

“Did you say you hate Paul West?” She popped her head out the door.

“Yes. I hate him. I hate this place.” I sobbed.

“Well, you just might fit right on in here after all. We all hate Paul West around here.” Dottie held the door opened and waved me in. “You know he’s a liar.”

“Oh, I’m aware. Look at me.” I pointed to my curls that’d gotten worse since I stepped out of the RV. The humidity wasn’t doing me any favors. “I’m so overdue for a highlight and look at my nails.” I wiggled them in front of my face and showed her the chipped up mess that was at least two-weeks over due.

“I’ve got someone that can fix you right up.” She picked up a strand of my hair. “This is the least of your problems. Coffee?”

“Yes. That’d be grea..” I nodded. The door slammed shut, making me jump.

“Get on in here.” She held the camper screen door open.

“Do you live here?” I asked and looked around as I took seat at one of the kitchen chairs.

The inside was what I’d expected to see. Fun pineapple party lights strung up all over back of the couch along the back wall. The kitchen flowed from there. She had a small café table and the two chairs, right across from the kitchenette where she was filling up two white coffee cups.

She sat a cup in front of me.

“Creamer? Sugar?” She asked.

“No. This is good.” I brought the cup up to my mouth and took a sip, feeling an instant relief. “I really like your camper.”

“There’s more to Dottie than meets the eye.” She referred to herself in third person and made me smile. “Looky there, you’re smiling. Now if you put on some lipstick, you’d be downright pretty and find you a man to take care you and your problems here, Mae West.”

She fiddled in one of the cabinets, snapped a paper towel off the roll and put the fingernail polish remover on the table.

“That’s the last thing I need.” I took another sip. “I’ve got to figure out how to get this place looking presentable because my lawyer is looking for a buyer. No one in their right mind is going to buy this dump.”

“No one in their right minds parks their RV in this dump,” she read my mind.

“Cheers.” We knocked cups and laughed. We talked while I took the chipped polish off my nails.

“Well, we got Henry down the road. He’s down yonder in the fifth wheel camper and he’s the handyman. Literally, he only maintains what we’ve got here. I’ve tried to get a hold of your husband, but he’d never return our calls. I’d gotten a lawyer if we had money, but we don’t got nothin’ but a roof over our heads.” She got up from the chair and grabbed the carafe, refilling our mugs. “I’m all ears if you’ve got ideas, but I guess you’re gonna make me pay rent now that you’re here.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I need you Dottie Swaggert and I’m new to all this. I need you Dottie,” I said again so I could get my point across.

There was no reason to even bring up my past life. That was far behind me now. So was Paul West. I was going to just keep my chin up and get this place cleaned up, even if I had to do it myself. I looked down at the brochure I’d put down on the kitchen table. If it was the last thing I ever did on this earth and it killed me, I was going to make this place look just like the brochure and I had a few weeks to do it. I needed all the help I could get.

“Just what are you thinking?” she eyeballed me.

“You said something about a National Park. Tell me about it.” I knew that families were big on traveling in campers during the warmer months.

“Mae West, you’re smack dab in the middle of the Daniel Boone National State Park. We’ve got two big lakes in this park along with lots of biking, hiking, camping, horseback riding and zip lining,” she boasted. “In the day, Happy Trails was booked for months and even had a waiting list. Then one thing broke after the other and Paul West never fixed it.”

“You’re telling me that Daniel Boone National State Park is something people come to see?” I asked. She nodded. “And that this is seasonal?”

“The state park is open all year around. Normal is a charming city that visitors love to come and check out the little shops, but not so much Happy Trails.”

“Dottie, me and you are going to change that.” I brought the cup up to my lips and stared through the steam as the wheels in my head started to turn and the dollars in profit started to add up.

I might be able to sell this thing quicker than I’d anticipated once I got it cleaned up and tourists back in here.





THREE





If only Happy Trails was as charming as the town of Normal itself, I’d be in the selling business. There were parallel roads going down Main Street, one way each. In the middle of the two lanes was a median with a combination of grass and stepping stones. There were picnic tables among the large oak trees on each side of an amphitheater and covered seating area. Thick white pillars you’d see on the front porch of a plantation home held up the structure. Each post had a real gas lantern hanging off of them. Large ferns toppled over several ceramic planters. There were twinkling lights around each pole, giving it such a romantic feel.

There were little shops that ran along each side of Main Street. They ranged from the Smelly Dog, which was a pet groomer, Normal Diner, as well as the Tough Nickel Thrift Shop and Deter’s Feed-N-Seed, along with more boutique type shops that I couldn’t wait to check out. The display windows of each shop even had visions of family camping and summers in Normal.

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