“Thanks,” I said sincerely. “You’re the first person who showed me this.”
“If you’re not use to living in an RV, then you don’t know.” He pointed down the campground. “I own that blue one over there. I don’t live here full time, but my grandpa did and there’s so many memories from fishing and camping here, that I couldn’t get rid of it after the place started going downhill.”
“Oh.” I let out a big sigh and thought I should probably get some sort of RV reference book from the library. “Want to come in for a drink while I answer your questions?”
The neglect Paul had done at the campground really did extend generations and not just the present people here.
“I’m working,” he reminded me. “But I’ll take a coffee if you’ve got it?”
“I have a Keurig.” I nodded. “I don’t really know how to use it, but I can figure it.”
“I’ll show you.” He gestured for me to walk in front of him. My brows furrowed. “A southern gentleman lets the lady go first.”
“Even a lady that you think killed her con-ex-husband?” I joked and warmed inside with the southern manner thing. It was only something I’d heard about, but never really experienced. I thought it was just a bunch of talk, but it was real. With Hank anyways.
Once inside, he showed me how to use the Keurig, which I’d not been able to figure out on my own and we sat at the table.
“I’ll start from the beginning.” I took the first Keurig and gave it to him with a quarter pitcher of milk from the mini-frig that was curdled. He shoved it away. “Electrical thing.” I opened the trash and threw it in.
While my coffee was being made, I started to tell him about my relationship with Paul from the beginning and where we were today.
“You had no idea?” He asked a question I’d been asked a million times.
“Everyone asks me that. There wasn’t anything that pointed to it. Nothing was out of order, no big presents. Our lifestyle stayed the same. One trip a year. Out with friends weekly. I went to different committees and took tennis lessons.” Hearing the words come out of my mouth almost made me sick at how privileged I’d become. I hung my head and circled the top of the coffee mug with my finger. “I’m ashamed at how that all sounds. I’m smarter than that, and really should’ve look at the finances.”
“The last time you spoke to him?” He asked.
“I went to jail to see him after it happened because I was so shocked and I honestly thought they had the wrong guy. There was no way he’d done that. He was so giving.” My jaw dropped. “He gave a lot of money to charities and friends.”
“That’s probably where he’d funneled a lot of the money, but that’s not my department. I’m sticking with how he got out of prison and now dead in your campground. Plus, you said that you’d kill him if he did show up. He did show up. Dead.” Hank didn’t have to tell me things I already knew.
“I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know that he’d escaped.” I reminded him.
“We came here because we figured he’d show up here first since you were here.” He took that notebook back out of his pocket.
“Apparently someone else did too.” I sucked in a deep breath and looked out the window as the coroner’s car pulled off from where Paul had floated up.
“Which brings me to my next question.” Hank put his pen to the paper. “Do you have any clue who would’ve killed him?”
“Is this a joke question because I can think of a lot of people who’d love to get their hands around his neck.” I leaned my arms on the table.
“I have a long list of the people he ripped off.” He took another piece of paper out of his jacket. “They were actually on my list to go and see if Paul tried to contact them, but that’s when I thought he was an escaped convict.” He put the paper on the table and used his hands to straighten out the wrinkles best he could. “Do you recognize any names that he might’ve talked about or really just any memory of any of them?”
I took my time and read each name carefully.
“Grady Cox.” I pointed to his name. “Grady was a friend of Paul’s. I had no idea he and Ava had been one of his victims,” my voice dropped a volume. “I remember him saying they were horse people.”
I left the part out that Paul had also mentioned that the Coxes were full of money.
“Believe it or not, most of his victims were everyday people like me and the campers here. Did you know that Henry Bryan was a client?” He flipped the paper around and scanned down it until he found Henry’s name and pointed to it.
“Henry Bryan?” I wasn’t familiar with the name.
“Henry, your handyman.” He turned his head towards the kitchen window.
“I didn’t know his last name. How much did he give Paul?” I gulped knowing that by the appearance Henry didn’t look like he had much.
“He had two-thousand dollars in his savings. When he contacted Paul about some repairs, Paul showed up here.” Hank flipped through the notebook. “Everyone here was pretty excited because they thought Paul was taking it seriously.”
“How long ago with this?” I didn’t remember Paul making a trip to Kentucky.
“Three months ago. Paul was desperate for more cash and he took anything he could get his hands on, including Henry’s savings.” Hank’s story hurt me. Not about Paul coming here, but how he saw Henry as money and not the sweet man that he’d appeared to be.
“Do you think Henry killed Paul?” I asked. “I mean, he’d have motive if it was his life’s savings and he does know this campground backwards and forwards.”
“Whoa, Nancy Drew.” He laughed and put his hands out. “You leave the questions and suspect list to me, unless you’re trying to put the hit on someone else?”
“I told you that I didn’t kill him. How was he killed?” I asked.
“One shot. Straight to the heart.” He pointed to his chest.
“Do you think it was quick?” I asked, not wanting Paul to be in pain.
“Does it matter? The man wasn’t a good person.” Hank sounded a little bitter. His chest heaved up as he took a big breath. “I’m sorry.” I apologize. “No one deserves to be murdered, but this is a little too close to home.”
“I understand,” I insisted archly. “It’s just that the person that did this, isn’t the person I fell in love with. I’m not saying I’m not bitter at him and was half joking when I said I’d kill him first, but he was always good to me and that had to be buried somewhere deep within him.”
“Well, I’m going to get out of your hair. But, I’ll be back.” He stood up and his six-foot three frame towered over me. “Don’t leave town.” he warned. “I’m a straight shooter and you are my number one suspect.”
“I. . .” I went to protest but he put his finger up to my mouth.
“Shhhh.” He silenced me. “Your motive is perfect. Wife used to the lap of luxury, suddenly ripped out from under her. Her big house, fancy car and rich lifestyle traded in for an RV where she has to move from her plush, gated community into a slum of a campground in a state she’s never been to. The husband shows up after escaping jail, thinking his wife is going to take him back with open arms and he’s actually met with an angry wife and the hole of a gun that puts a blow to his chest after a big fight between them. The wife got her revenge and how sweet it is,” he spoke with light bitterness.
“I don’t even have a gun,” my tone hardened as I retorted tartly.
“That’s why we are dragging the lake.” He pushed the RV door open.
I stood behind him and looked across the lake where there were a few men in scuba gear.
“See those men?” He pointed to them. “And that backhoe?”
I nodded like I even knew what a backhoe was but it was big and was dragging the front of its crane into the water.
“While we’ve been in here talking and having coffee, those men got in and looked around. Now that they are finished, the backhoe will pull up anything and everything. Like a gun,” he said with a coolly impersonal tone.