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Adventure, Abduction, & Arrest (A

Camper & Criminals Cozy Mystery


Series Book 25) Tonya Kappes
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ADVENTURE, ABDUCTION, &
ARREST
A CAMPER & CRIMINALS COZY MYSTERY BOOK 25
TONYA KAPPES
CONTENTS

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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18

Recipes and Camping Hacks from Mae West and the Laundry Club Ladies
Berry Crisp Foil Packs
Camping Hack #1
Grilled Cheese Hot Dogs
Camping Hack #2
Grilled Watermelon
Fishing Rod Storage
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“Mae,” Hank said, calling me over to him with a head gesture. “I think me
and you need to go to the scene.”
“Why?” I asked. “Do you think this was deliberate?”
“You never know. Last night after everyone went to bed, I went to see
Robin.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I started to ask her all sorts of
questions about Kyra, and I even told her the truth about who we really are.
I also asked for her cooperation, and she said she’d need to think on it.”
“By thinking on it, did she really know what happened to Kyra?” I
wondered. “You don’t think she set a fire?” I asked in disbelief again.
“I told you that I don’t know, but when I was a forest ranger, people did
set a lot of fires to try and cover up a crime.” His phone chimed in a text.
“It’s Tucker Pyle. I put in a call to him a little while ago, and he said he’d
check on it.”
Hank walked away, and I kept an eye on him to see his response. It was
too dark, and he was looking down at his feet while he shuffled the grass.
“Well?” I asked about the quick chat.
“He said he called the local ranger station here, and they found a body.
A charred body.”
I’ve heard of having a chill so deep in your bones that it took days to
recover. I’d never known exactly what that meant until just now.
CHAPTER 1

“G
ood morning!” I greeted Betts Hager, Abby Fawn Bonds,
Queenie French, and Hank Sharp as they all boarded my
little camper with a level of excitement due to our new
adventure. “Dottie is in Trails Coffee, grabbing us some much-needed
caffeine.”
Hank gave me a quick kiss before he climbed over the middle console
into the passenger captain chair to ride shotgun. He had an armful of file
folders that he put on the floorboard until he got his seatbelt on.
I had a clear view of the coffee shop since I’d parked the small RV in
the Laundry Club Laundromat parking lot across the street.
“How long has she been in there?” Betts Hager blew her bangs out of
her eyes as she stooped down and peered out the windshield. Her shoulder-
length wavy brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a pair of
pink yoga pants and sweatshirt to match. “Aren’t we going to be cutting it
close if we don’t get on the road soon?”
“According to the schedule Robin Michaels sent, I’ve given us a little
cushion in case we need to make some pit stops.” Hank searched through
files and grabbed a stack of brochures from one of them. “Here’s a schedule
for everyone.”
Abby was closest to Hank’s reach, and she took them, giving one each
to Betts and Queenie.
“I like that outfit.” Queenie made mention of Betts’s outfit.
“I got it from the Tough Nickel.” Betts brushed down the sweatshirt.
“Great score.” I loved the Tough Nickel Thrift Shop.
Last weekend when I was window shopping downtown, Buck, the
owner of the Tough Nickel Thrift Shop, had made the best seasonal display
of any of the downtown shops. He had used spring activities going on and
around the Daniel Boone National Park, where we lived, with a display of
mannequins in hiking gear sitting in a kayak, along with a small tent scene.
“I wish I’d seen it first.” Queenie really liked Betts’s outfit.
Queenie lived in sweats. There were only a handful of times I’d seen her
dressed in anything else.
Today she was dressed in her usual going-out outfit, which to her was
dressing up. It was one of those silky eighties jumpsuit that swished with
every move and a matching headband that kept her short blond hair pushed
off of her face.
“Are you driving?” Hank Sharp’s green eyes sent a bolt of lightning to
my heart when he looked at me.
“Nope.” Anything I could do to get a little shut-eye, before we started
our big investigation into the missing person Hank was hired to look into,
was fine with me. I closed my eyes and snorted out a few fake snores.
“I figured.” He opened the door, carefully stepping out of the camper so
he didn’t accidentally hit the stack of files on the floorboard.
I got out of the driver’s side and waited for him with the door wide
open.
“You’re so smart, Hank Sharp.” I winked as he came around the front of
the RV. “Here comes Dottie,” I said when I noticed her walking away from
Trails Coffee, balancing one of those cardboard coffee trays with one hand
and a cigarette in the other. “Looks like she was talking to Violet
Rhinehammer,” I pointed out after I’d gotten into the passenger seat.
“And she’s smoking.” Abby had turned herself around, leaning on the
back of the couch to see out the small RV windows behind them. When she
swung back around, she hit Queenie in the face with her high-swingin’
brown ponytail.
“Pft. Pfft.” Queenie spat, smacking it away from her face.
“When she smokes that early, it means Violet stressed her out.” Abby
sighed and put her hand out when she noticed I was passing the missing-
person file back to her.
“I sure hope she didn’t tell Violet what we were up to.” Hank adjusted
his seatbelt.
“No kidding.” I reached over my shoulder to get my seatbelt. “Or she’d
have it plastered all over the Normal Gazette and Channel Two news.”
Violet Rhinehammer would probably turn out to be a decent human
being if I’d gotten to know her outside of her journalist personality. We’d
become well acquainted over the years since I moved to Normal, Kentucky,
and worked on a few things together, but we weren’t a pair to call each
other up and hang out.
Not like I did with the Laundry Club Ladies. Those were the ladies right
here in my camper. My tried-and-true girlfriends along with my amazing
boyfriend, Hank. Of course I couldn’t forget Fifi, my little white poodle,
who was still sleeping on my bed in the back.
Yep. I lived in a drivable RV and owned Happy Trails Campground in
the heart of the Daniel Boone National Forest in Normal, Kentucky.
Literally, this was my home on wheels, which I had been forced to live in,
but it took the better part of a year to remodel it into the cute little RV it was
today. I’d made it as cozy as a rabbit’s den.
It was small, but it was all mine and without a mortgage. It was perfect
for me and Fifi.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, the RV stayed parked at Happy Trails
Campground—but not this week.
Hank’s private investigating services had been hired by Laura and Steve
Tenney. Their daughter Kyra had gone missing while at Forest Bathing
Therapy Retreat, and no one at the retreat would give them any answers.
The retreat was in a different part of the Daniel Boone National Forest,
which was the reason we’d piled into my RV, but once we were there we
had accommodations.
“I enrolled us as employees.” Hank looked down at the GPS system to
make sure we were going in the right direction. “Robin is under the
assumption we are all there to become certified Forest Bathing Therapists.”
“I have always wanted to be a therapist.” Betts took the undercover gig
very seriously. Nothing I wouldn’t expect from her. She was the sensible
and moral one of all of us.
“According to her file, Kyra Tenney went missing two weeks ago. Her
cell phone’s last ping was—” Abby rattled off the location while Betts put
the address in her phone.
“The exact place we are going.” The muscles in Betts’s face tightened.
“Y’all ain’t gonna believe this crap.” Dottie Swaggert had swung open
the door. Smoke rolled out of her mouth with each word before she took
one last drag.
Queenie got up and took the coffee holder with all of our coffees in it so
Dottie could snuff the cigarette out before she got in the RV.
“I don’t know if it’s a lie or not, and keep in mind you’ve got to
consider the source.” She got in and slammed the small door behind her,
locking it so Hank could start driving. “But Violet Rhinehammer claims
she’s quit the Normal Gazette and Channel Two news to go off to Calee-
fornia for some big hotshot job out there. Somethin’ ‘bout making it big
time. Career startin’ off.” Dottie shrugged.
“You mean to tell me she finally got the call?” I asked with a slack jaw.
“I reckon. I don’t know.” Dottie fluttered her hand in the air just before
she adjusted one of the pink sponge curlers in her hair and took a seat in
one of the chairs at my little café table.
Dottie apparently wasn’t ready for the day, or should I say her hair
wasn’t ready for the day.
“You know Violet. Sometimes she’s all hat and no cattle.” A lot of
Dottie’s vernacular was Southern phrases. Most of them I understood, and
to say that she kept me entertained all the time was an understatement.
She kept me entertained practically all the time since we were
neighbors. She not only lived in a camper in Happy Trails but she was also
the longtime manager and she did a really great job.
Even with all her grumbling she was one of my dearest friends.
“I don’t think she’d lie about such a big thing.” Abby looked around for
some agreement. “Would she?”
“Do you still follow her on social media?” Queenie asked Abby, who
was the social media expert of our group.
Abby nodded.
“I’m sure she put something on there.” Queenie made a really good
point.
“Ladies, we’ve got to hustle. Violet Rhinehammer has made us late.”
Hank was so smart not to blame Dottie’s being nosey because I was sure
Dottie was questioning Violet in the coffee shop better than any litigator
would do, making us get a later start than Hank wanted.
Betts rattled off some alternative directions for Hank. Though he’d
already started to drive, he must’ve decided to use her directions. We all
hung on while he did a U-turn when he got to the end of the grassy median
so he could drive in the other direction, since downtown was one way on
each side.
We passed Trails Coffee on my side, and I couldn’t help but try to see in
to check out Violet Rhinehammer. I was curious because she’d tried so hard
to find the next big story that would get her national attention with the
Associated Press. I racked my brain for what stories she’d done lately but
came up short.
The conversation moved back to why we were all here in the first place.
Kyra Tenney.
“Kyra Tenney is twenty-three years old.” Betts had dropped the Violet
chatter and focused on the file Abby handed off to her so Abby could take
notes in the spiral notebook we used for times such as this.
It was those times that led Hank to ask for our help. It was no secret I
had enlisted the Laundry Club Ladies to help prove I was innocent when
my ex-husband’s body had turned up floating in the campground lake. I was
Hank’s number-one suspect.
At the time, Hank was involved in law enforcement, and of course I
looked guilty. The spouse was always the prime suspect. Only I didn’t do it.
I had found these ladies a great group of women to lean on, and, well,
we just had a knack for snooping around, listening to gossip, and narrowing
down the clues that led to real criminals. This wasn’t our first rodeo.
“According to the file, her mom said she was trying to get her life back
on track since Kyra’s relationship had broken up. Also, her mom reports
Kyra had started therapy at Forest Bathing Therapy Retreat.” Betts read the
information one more time before she laid the file in her lap. “Hank, you’re
making us do therapy?”
Betts asked a question that seemed to be on all of our minds. When he
mentioned a few minutes ago how we were going in as trainees, it was the
first time we’d heard of it.
“I’m not making you do anything.” He glanced back in the rearview
mirror at the ladies. “I asked if you wanted to help me, and each one of you
jumped at it.”
“What is forest therapy?” Dottie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms
over the bedazzled shirt she’d made for just this occasion. “Now, I ain’t
gonna hug no trees and talk to the plants like you see them tree-huggin’
hippies do. If I wanted to do that, I’d join Tex’s commune out by the Old
Train Station Motel,” she grumbled.
I snickered, just thinking about Dottie out in the woods with Tex, the
bare-chested chiropractor who had a successful business doing his work
among the trees in the woods.
“You want me to let you out?” Hank wasn’t about to take Dottie’s
orneriness impede the investigation.
She shook her head, which was half rolled up in curlers, and continued
to take the rest out.
“Keep reading.” I looked at Betts.
“Forest therapy is sometimes referred to as ecotherapy, forest therapy,
forest bathing, grounding, or earthing, where one gets in touch with their
feelings through techniques or treatments to use nature to improve mental
or physical health,” Betts read off of her phone. She must’ve used the
internet to look up forest therapy just now.
“Hellfire.” Dottie jerked up. “We all should have no problems because
we live in the forest.” She shook her head, her lips pinched. “Whoever
heard of such things as forest bathing? Heck. I’m a teacher of that stuff and
didn’t even know it.”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “We do sit outside in the chairs with our face to
the woods while we bathe in the sun.”
“You’re dang right we do.” Dottie liked that. She snorted a few times.
“Seriously.” Betts had a wide-eyed look. Her finger kept scrolling on
her phone. “It’s honest to God a real thing.”
“Tree therapy or forest bathing has been proven to lower heart rate and
blood pressure, not to mention reduce stress and boost the immune system.”
She continued to read. “The idea is to relax in nature away from the stress
in your life. Even five minutes a day helps.”
“Then we should all have perfect lives.” Dottie just couldn’t stop with
the comments.
“You should be able to be a model client.” Hank wasn’t about to let
Dottie’s sour attitude about the concept get the group down.
“Client?” Dottie released a huge sigh. “You mean to tell me you’re
gonna make me hug a tree?”
“Yep. You will become one with the tree,” Hank joked.
“You missed Hank telling us how he told the lady in charge we were
therapists in training.” Abby fueled Dottie’s fire, and she knew it. The smile
on her face grew so big.
“Anyways, Kyra’s mom also said they knew she was going to this
retreat. Kyra called her mom every day even before she went to the retreat.
Laura, her mom, said in this statement she knew the calls were not going to
be daily since Kyra was busy in training, but Kyra’s calls had completely
stopped a couple of weeks ago. She called the retreat, and they said Kyra
had left and not come back. Her things were still there, but she’s not.”
Everything Betts was saying sounded a bit fishy to me on the end of the
retreat.
Betts continued, “The owner, Robin Michaels, who Hank said he’d
talked too, had told Kyra’s mom it wasn’t unusual for clients to pack a bag
and hike for a couple of days. Going off the grid is what she called it.” Betts
looked at Abby to make sure Abby had gotten a lot of the major bullet
points.
“Off the grid for two weeks?” Dottie wore a bird-thin scowl.
“Somethin’ is fishy.”
Abby picked up her phone, typed and then used her finger to scroll.
“Seriously, though, the cabins at this retreat place are cute.” She leaned
forward and propped up her elbows on the little café table with the screen
showing to us.
I turned around in my seat to take a look at her screen.
What she showed us weren’t cabins. They were yurts. I kept my mouth
shut. Dottie would have a dying duck fit if she knew we were staying in
what appeared to be pretty authentic tent-type dwellings that didn’t look to
have running water, toilet or television. It wasn’t the no running water and
bathroom that would throw it. It would be the no television where she
couldn’t see her crime TV shows.
“That is really cute.” I did love how the photo she was showing was
decorated. There was a really neat owl photo on the wall with a cool
wooden frame that stood out. The bed was dressed in what I’d consider that
boho style with all the browns and cream-colored designs.
A rug lay at the foot of the bed, and a small cloth couch stood up against
the round structure.
“Here’s what I’ve got so far.” Abby put her phone down in exchange for
our clue notebook.
We had a certain way of doing things, and even though we could refer
to the file, it was much easier for Abby to put it all in the grid so we could
just glance.
“I have Kyra’s name in the big circle.” Abby turned the notebook
around. The diagram looked like a sun. Kyra’s name was in the circle of the
sun, and the sun’s rays bore names like Robin Michaels and boyfriend. “Do
we have the boyfriend’s name?”
“I don’t think so, but I can get it from Laura.” Hank mentioned Kyra’s
mom.
By this time, Hank had driven to the entrance of the interstate, which
would get us to the retreat much faster than if we’d taken the back forest
roads.
The Daniel Boone National Park was over seven hundred thousand
acres, spanning several towns. Though we lived in the area, most of it was
woods, and using the forest roads would’ve taken hours but been a much
prettier drive.
The extra hour taking the directions Betts had given Hank would give
us some time before we had to be at the first session and let us start our
little snooping brains in the right direction. This way we could all go our
different ways and see what we could find out on our own before we came
back together so we could put what we found out in our notebook and see
exactly what was similar and what looked a bit fishy.
From what Kyra’s mom had reported, it did seem unusual how Kyra
called daily to not calling at all. Was she taking a solitude hike for days, as
Robin suggested to Laura? Or was something more sinister going on?
Either way, I knew we would find her.
CHAPTER 2

“W
elcome to Forest Bathing Retreat.” A woman with
wavy red hair greeted us. A strand on each side was
pinned to the back of her head. She wore a black tank
top with a flower-pattern skirt that flowed to her ankles. No shoes. “I’m
Robin Michaels, and we are so glad to host your group.”
“I’m Hank Sharp.” Hank greeted Robin and introduced each one of us
to her as we filed out
one by one. “And that’s Fifi.”
Fifi darted out of the RV, taking full advantage of the grassy field next
to the parking lot. She darted around, giving each little blade of grass a
quick sniff.
“You’re the CEO of Hank’s Laundry Club?” Robin asked.
All of our heads jerked to look at him. He’d left out that little part of our
undercover investigation.
“Yep. That’s right. Own a lot of laundromats, and these ladies are my
managers.” He had really taken us undercover.
“That’s right. Fresh as a daisy.” Dottie spouted off some sort of motto
before she lifted up her arms and smelled underneath her pits. “That’s why
we are so happy to be here in the fresh air. Fresh air is hard to bottle up in a
de-ter-gent.” Dottie walked over to the nearest tree and wrapped her arms
around it. “Yep. Feelin’ good already.” She dragged her cigarette case out of
her back pocket and snapped it open to take a cigarette out.
My stomach knotted. Dottie was going to get us kicked out before we
could get our knapsacks out of the RV.
Robin had a nervous smile resting on her lips before it turned to a very
disapproving look. She clapped her hands together loudly. A guttural gasp
came from her.
Fifi ran back over to see what she was missing out on and stopped in
front of Robin like she was wondering what all the fuss was about.
“What on earth?” A look of terror covered Robin’s face.
“Earth.” The cigarette hung immobile in Dottie’s mouth. “We love
Earth.”
I picked Fifi up, prepared to get right back in the RV, sure Robin was
going to send us home before we even got started.
“We do not allow smoking here at the center.” I felt her anger as much
as I saw it.
“I thought you said I could smoke, and by the end of our therapy I’d be
healed and not want to smoke.” She used her fingers to take the cigarette
out of her mouth and pointed them at Hank. “All this fresh air was going to
replace this nasty habit.”
“Dottie could be more productive as a manager if she didn’t spend so
much time outside of the laundromat she runs, smoking.” Hank’s brows
lifted. “We are hoping therapy and her wanting to become a Forest Bathing
Therapist will change her actions as soon as she walks out the door, which
is grab a cigarette.”
“I see.” Robin’s forehead puckered. “You’ve sorta put me in a hard
situation. You see, we don’t allow smoking of any kind. If you know what I
mean. And, well, I guess you can smoke outside of your yurt. One a day,
but I don’t believe you’ll do it every day because forest bathing will heal
your need.”
“I’ll take that one time a day right now.” Dottie grabbed the lighter from
the pocket on the outside of the cigarette case and brought it to life. She
puffed the cigarette to life, creating several smoke rings that were much
more exaggerated than usual.
Oh yeah. Dottie took pride in the smoke rings she could make.
“As you can see, we have the large white tent with a few chairs under it
for our group meetings.” As Robin talked to us, she kept a good side eye on
Dottie.
My friends and I looked around to see just what we were dealing with. I
was sure we were all trying to decide where we’d wisely spend our free
hour.
There were at least a hundred people milling about barefoot on the
bluegrass. Most of them were dressed like Robin. The men were in loose
linen-style pants. Some had their shirts off, and some wore white tees. All
were barefoot as they eased up to a tree and stroked it as though they were
stroking a cat or even my little Fifi.
Some of them were sitting with their backs against the tree trunks, eyes
closed, legs tented as if they were napping.
“We have an all-vegan menu.” She waved us to follow her.
On our way to the large white tent she’d pointed out, I looked up into a
tree and noticed someone was sitting on a large limb, caressing the leaves.
“We here at the center are a collective soul, gathering heart and mind to
connect to the truer root of our being.” Her passion for her job was apparent
in the love with which she spoke of it. “We have many guests who are so
talented in their daily lives as CEOs, such as yourself.” She offered a gentle
nod at Hank. “But their true spirit is here among the trees, where their
hobbies really outshine any sort of work life.” She made air quotes around
“work.”
Once we reached the edge, she pointed at the far back corner of the tent.
There, a group of people sat in a circle around a man who had a black
bowler hat on his head, his grey hair sticking out. He wore a green shirt
unbuttoned loosely over a white T-shirt and a long black braided leather
bolo necklace ending in a nice piece of turquoise around his neck. He was
strumming a guitar and singing low as the others in the group swayed. Their
eyes were closed.
“That man’s milk is expired, and ain’t no way am I going to go do some
Kumbaya. Now I’ve got me some limits, and that is one of them.” She was
getting all sorts of stares from the therapy clients with her puffing on her
cig.
“What if Robin lets you smoke two cigarettes a day?” I joked.
“It’ll take a whole pack for me to join in that.” Dottie snuffed out her
smoke on the bottom of her shoe and put the butt in her palm. She reached
over and took Fifi from me.
“If you want to follow me, I’ll take you to your yurt.” Robin seemed to
hit another one of Dottie’s nerves. “We call our yurt the lodge.”
“I heard her say yurt earlier, and thought she was saying ‘you’re,’ but I
had not realized she meant a yurt yurt.” Dottie shuffled sideways next to
me. “Now I can’t stay on no ground. I’ve seen how these hippy tree-
huggers live in the television, and I have sciatica. Not to mention my new
hip.”
She tucked Fifi up under her arm and stuck her hand out to touch her
hip.
“What? I want to sleep in your bed in the RV.” Dottie gave me a long,
level look.
“I will let you stay in the RV on one condition.” I thought it would be a
good idea to keep Fifi in the camper instead of the yurt.
“What is it?” She glared, giving me the side-eye.
“You can enjoy the RV if you let Fifi stay in there with you.” I gave Fifi
a scratch on her head.
“Done. I love this little girl.” She hurried ahead of me. Happy as a lark.
“See ya at supper!” she hollered, heading off to the parking lot.
I watched her snuggle Fifi up to her neck and say something. If only Fifi
could talk, I’m sure she’d have a million stories about Dottie. Fifi did love
her, that was for sure.
“Are you sure Dottie really is wanting to do the therapy? Stop smoking?
She seems awfully resistant.” Robin asked Hank, but her eyes were on
Dottie and Fifi. “I did tell you that everyone had to be on board with the
program to make it effectively work, but I didn’t realize we were dealing
with a very big case with that one.”
“She’ll be fine,” Hank assured her. “Now, whose yurt is whose?”
Robin continued walking ahead, talking about the sessions they were
offering us. She also mentioned that we would be joining the current group
of students this afternoon and told us not to wear shoes we couldn’t slip off
easily.
“If you don’t have slippers, which we prefer you to wear all the time if
you must wear something on your feet, we do have some for sale in the
conference center.” She nodded and stopped in front of one of the yurts.
“Other than that, we believe the more you are one with the earth and
grounded, the more you will learn.”
Abby, Betts, Queenie, and I nearly fell over each other as we craned our
necks to see what was going on around us as we followed Robin in silence.
“This one is for you and you.” She pointed at Queenie and me.
“Thanks.” Queenie headed in first.
“All right. I’ll see the rest of you in a few,” I said with a secret smile,
knowing we were all officially undercover and we’d fooled Robin.
I walked into the yurt and threw my little duffle bag down on my way to
the window. I wanted to see where Robin was taking Abby, Betts, and
Hank.
“This isn’t so bad.” Queenie sat on the bed. “I guess we have to share
the bed.”
“I can lie on the little couch.” I turned away from the window once the
three of them were out of sight.
I recognized the couch from the photo Abby had showed us in the RV
on the way here. “It looks like they have the same furniture in the yurts.”
I noticed the framed owl image in Abby’s photo was in here too. I really
liked the photo, and it would be nice to look at while I was cramped up on
the couch as Queenie slept in the bed.
“Kyra could be anywhere here. It looks like a big place.” Queenie
unzipped her duffle and took out her clothes to put in the small brown chest
of drawers.
I picked mine up off the ground and tossed it towards the couch’s leg.
I didn’t bring anything to wear but the yoga pants and a few tops to go
with it, since I thought we’d be hiking. From the looks of it, though, hiking
or any physical activity appeared to be the last thing the people here were
doing, which told me if Kyra was here, we’d find her pretty quickly.
“Did you think anything was strange from Hank’s file?” I asked
Queenie and walked over to the little kitchen area, where a clear glass milk
jar with water in it sat on a counter.
The yurt had little signs all over with information on how friendly all
the products were to Mother Earth, and the water wasn’t in plastic bottles.
I filled two glasses with the water and took one over to Queenie.
“The boyfriend breakup did make me pause.” Queenie took a sip. “I
think we need more information on him if we don’t find her here.”
“That’s a good idea.” I walked over to the door when I heard a knock.
Betts, Abby, and Hank stood on the other side.
All barefoot.
“Welcome to our yurt.” I opened the door fully to let them in.
“We thought we’d go to the convention center to get some slippers.
Take the opportunity to look around and see if we see her.” Abby walked
over to the coffee table near the couch and sat on the floor. She laid the file
on top and flipped it open.
She pulled out the photo of Kyra her mom had given Hank and handed
it to Betts.
Betts pulled out a roll of tape from her pocket and taped Kyra’s photo
on the owl photo since it was the only thing hanging.
“I don’t think tape will stick to the yurt walls.” She ran her finger over
the piece of tape holding the photo for good measure to stick. “This will
have to be our board while we are here or until we find her.”
Kyra Tenney’s first immediately apparent attribute was her teeth. Very
straight and bright. She had blond hair parted on the side with a little wave
to it. She had brown eyes decorated with eyeliner and some heavy fake
lashes. Her brows were thick. She had on a pair of larger hoop earrings.
“I’m ready to go get those slippers and look for her. Time’s wasting.” I
tapped my wrist like I had on a watch before I twisted around to look at
Queenie. “Queenie?” I slipped my shoes off my feet.
“Let me untie my shoes.” She sat back down on the bed and untied the
double knot she wore in her laces.
After we all took a closer look at Kyra’s photo on our way out, Abby
handed me the file and the notebook. I put it one of Queenie’s clothes
drawers for safe keeping just in case someone did walk in. I couldn’t
imagine anyone would, but you could never be too careful.
There were several more people rubbing on the tree trunks, sitting
against the trees, or simply walking along the path we had to take to the
center.
The center was a large wooden structure, like the yurt, open-air with
several wooden benches facing a stage. On the stage were two long banquet
tables, each with five chairs. Sitting on the table in front of each chair was a
name placeholder and a microphone.
“Those must be the professionals doing the talks,” Hank pointed out.
“If something did happen to Kyra, maybe one of them would know.
Grab me some slippers, will ya?” I asked Hank and left the group to get a
closer look at the names.
I’d left the brochure with the schedule and the speakers back at the yurt,
but I still took my phone out, walked down the tables, and snapped photos
of all the nameplates so I could look them up later.
A long gong noise came from outside the conference center. I looked
back at Hank and the Laundry Club Ladies.
Hank waved a pair of slippers in the air at me while the others were bent
over and slipping theirs on their feet. I was glad to see Dottie had joined us
and we didn’t have to go get her.
“How’s Fifi?” I asked and took the shoes from Hank and put them on.
“She’s doing what we all should be doing. Taking a nap in front of the
television.” Dottie tapped her wrist as if she had on a watch. “It’s Matlock
time.”
“You and those shows.” I tsked.
“He has some good tips on how to catch people. I’m going to use those
today and find Kyra,” she said a little too loudly on our way out of the
convention center. “So we can go home.”
“Did you say Kyra?” a man asked on our way out to the communal
grassy area.
I recognized him as the man who played the guitar.
“Yes. Our friend Kyra Tenney is here,” Abby said. “We just got here and
haven’t seen her yet. Do you know where we can find her?”
“We’ve been looking for her too. She left on a hike, and she’s not come
back. I’m Chad Baldwin.” He clasped his hands behind his back and did a
slight bow. “When was the last time you spoke to Kyra?” He had the tired
eyes of a middle-aged man, the opposite of the reaction I thought all this
fresh air juju should be giving him.
“Oh, look,” Hank interrupted, “they’ve started. Excuse us. Chad
Baldwin?” Hank asked.
It was his way of making sure we had the right name without being
obvious.
“Yes indeed.” The man smiled with pride. “ Chad Baldwin.”
Chad Baldwin. I said his name in my head because I believed it was one
of the names on the nameplate. There was no time to look at my phone, but
that name was definitely something I’d look up when I was out of sight of
everyone.
“Do you think that was weird he asked us about her? It was like he
knew something and wanted to see what we knew.” Betts stood beside me
once we reached the group.
“Possibly,” I whispered back. “If Kyra is missing, we’d definitely want
to talk to him to see how she interacted here because he obviously took
notice of her. There is a large group of people here.”
“Sometimes you need to just sit and be.” Robin spouted off some sort of
wisdom to the group.
“I’m an expert at being.” Dottie hooted.
“Sometimes you just need to be with a tree. To help find the answers
within. To clear the mind and hear your soul. To know you are never alone.”
Robin’s voice rose with the reddening of her face as she tried her best to
ignore Dottie.
Dramatically Robin closed her eyes, lifted her hand in the air before she
curled into a tight fist, swiftly bringing it to her chest.
“The answers lie within, clearing the distortion, lifting the pain. You are
freed to feel the real you again. The trees are there again and again, loving
you when you are in pain. Thank you, trees, for helping me.” Her hand
ejected from her chest like a rocket with her fingers spread wide apart.
“That’s somethin’.” Dottie clapped in delight.
I looked at Hank, and he rolled his eyes.
“Thank you, trees, for helping me,” the group in a therapy session
repeated over and over.
“Thank you, trees, for loving me.” Robin lifted her hand in the air again.
She looked directly at me.
“Thank you, trees, for loving me,” I mouthed because it sure seemed
like she was calling me out.
“Yes! Thank you, trees!” Dottie exaggerated as she lifted her arms up in
a V shape, tilting her head back.
Robin heard Dottie’s loud echo. Robin zeroed in on Dottie.
“To warm up your bodies, you are going to be touching the heels of
your feet. Take your right hand and twist right. Lunge your left leg behind
you and use your eyes to guide your right hand to gently touch your left
heel behind you in your twist.” Robin gave directions as she twisted the
way opposite to her back leg. Fluidly, she moved to the opposite side, doing
the same motion. “Now with your eyes, your right hand will come to your
left foot. Look over your shoulder to see them touch. Repeat. Arms and
eyes the opposite side of your heel.”
Robin continued to give instructions while the group did the
movements.
“We are embodying our senses into the Mother Earth.” Robin moved
back and forth with ease.
“I’m not that limber.” Dottie groaned, nearly falling backward. “And I
just had me a new hip.”
“I told you that you should be coming to Jazzercise, and you’d not have
had this problem.” Queenie loved that she was in great shape after all these
years being a Jazzercise instructor. Something she did take pride in, and she
should. She wasn’t having any problems doing the exercise while the rest of
us were losing our balance.
Robin led the group in a few more exercises before she had us move
into groups of three.
Of course I picked Chad Baldwin, since he seemed a little odd and had
mentioned Kyra. Not that the two had anything to do with each other, but
my gut pinged when he spoke to us. It was the whole woman’s-intuition
thingy that moved my feet right on over to him.
Hank and the Laundry Club Ladies all did the same thing and ended up
in different groups except for Dottie. I got stuck with her.
Little did I realize Chad was the leader of our group.
“Ahhh.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Fill your lungs with Mother
Earth.” He let go of the breath with an audible sigh. “Again.” He
exaggerated so much we could hear the breath enter his nostrils, flaring as
his chest puffed up.
Everyone was so into it. No one looked around but me. That was when I
knew I had to be all in to get some answers because when I looked around
at the group, I saw no one who looked like Kyra.
“When was the last time you were fully in nature with all of your
senses?” He took deliberate steps, guiding us toward a grass-beaten trail.
His hand lifted to his right in the air, his fingertips grazing the tree leaves.
Everyone followed, including me as I brought up the tail end of the trio.
“Forest therapy invites you to do just that. It’s a different way to feel,
act, love.” His voice took on a softer tone. “I’m inviting you to slow down
while you are here this week. Notice everything that is moving. Even the
dancing leaves.” His words made everyone, including me, lift our hands
and run them down the canopy of leaves. “Forest therapy invites us to
spend more time with more than worldly human beings.”
He stopped and pointed at a little bee on a yellow wildflower.
Something I did see all the time but not really stopped to watch. Half the
time, I would shoo bees away.
Chad stopped talking for a hot minute and walked us down along a
creek bed. A small bit of water bubbled over the rocks. We followed in
silence, and after the path curved, it opened into an area where everyone
else had gathered. All the paths must’ve led right here to this amazing
waterfall.
“Beautiful, right?” Chad knotted his hand into a fist and placed it on his
gut. “When you turned the curve of the path and your eyes feasted on this
waterfall, how did it make you feel to see the water moving?”
Everyone in my group looked at one another, shifty eyes and all as we
tried to read our companions’ expressions or wonder if we were supposed to
answer him.
“It made my water drop.” Dottie patted her stomach. “I told the doc I
needed my bladder tacked up.”
Chad was perturbed. He tried to ignore the snickering from the others in
our small group by continuing.
“Now I invite you to sit here and ponder the answers inside of each of
you. We will come back to our little group later and revisit your answer.”
He clasped his hands in front of him and titled his head at a slight angle.
The corners of his lips curled before he took a couple of steps backward,
excusing himself from the group.
“That was weird,” I blurted out to my group. Two of them shuffled
away from me like I was a plague, but one lady stayed there. Even Dottie
left me.
“It’s just the beginning,” the one lady said. “By next week you’ll be able
to answer a lot of your own inner demon questions. It just takes time.” She
smiled. “I’m Fay. I’m from Asia.”
“I’m Mae, and I’m from Normal.” I smiled back. “All the way from
Asia?”
“Yes. It’s a great thing to be one with nature, and I can see you do have
some of that in you.” She gestured for us to walk back up the path from
where we’d come.
“I do live in an RV. You can’t get too much closer.” I left out that I
owned a campground and why I was really there. “My friend Kyra Tenney
told me about this place.”
I shrugged.
“In fact, she was supposed to be here when me and our friends pulled
up. I can’t get her on her phone, and I don’t see her here.” I caught how
Fay’s body stiffened.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mae.” She took a slight bow, which each person
also seemed to do as they left a group and hurried off.
“Who was that?” Hank asked.
I hadn’t noticed he had come up behind me.
I continued to stare at Fay. She’d walked up to Chad. They both turned
back to look at me.
“Fay. I think she knows Kyra, but it seems like all of these people are
guarding a little secret.” I gnawed on my bottom lip. “I think Kyra’s mom is
right. Kyra Tenney is missing.”
CHAPTER 3

H
ank, me and the Laundry Club Ladies had pretty much stuck
together the rest of the evening. We hadn’t made any sort of
formal plans, but it was very well-known that everyone was to be
in the communal area and not holed up in their yurt.
Dottie, Abby, Betts, Queenie, and I sat outside of my yurt, where I’d
started a campfire. It was a regular activity for us.
The fire ring wasn’t nearly as nice as the ones we provided for all the
lots at the campground. Nor was there a stack of firewood at the ready like
Henry Bryant pridefully kept in stock at the campground, a job he took very
seriously as the handyman.
“I sure wish I had a s’more.” Abby was thumbing through her phone in
the dark light mode. If Robin had noticed Abby with her phone, I had no
idea what she’d do. We’d already put her at her brink with Dottie’s
shenanigans.
“That would be nice.” I eased back on my haunches on the log I was
sitting on. I stretched my legs out in front of me and crossed them at the
ankles with my hands tucked in between my thighs.
Hank was going through the deadfall wood we were able to use for the
fire, throwing one on here and there.
There was something magical about the red, orange and purple flames
as they married their individual dances in the air.
I closed my eyes and transported myself back to Happy Trails
Campground as the snapping tree branches from someone walking the path
behind the yurt popped and the slight breeze rustled a few dried leaves were
familiar sounds.
“Oh my gosh!” Abby’s voice carried. My eyes darted open as I shot up
to plant my feet back up underneath me.
“Violet Rhinehammer found a dead body on her airplane.” She turned
her phone around and showed us Violet’s social media, where Violet had
appeared live.
Of course I couldn’t see it, and apparently none of the others could
either. All of us hurried over to Abby to take a look at what she’d found.
“Watch.” Abby hit the screen and played the video.
“Are you sure that’s her?” Dottie leaned a little closer. “She’s got black
eyes, and her hair is all mucked up.”
“She just found a dead body. I bet she was crying because it looks like
her mascara.” Abby made an excellent observation. “And I’m sure her hair
is just out of place.”
“We find dead bodies all the time, and surely to goodness we don’t look
like that.” Dottie snickered, but Abby shushed her so we could hear what
Violet was saying.
“Did she say she was an international reporter?” I asked after the live
feed abruptly cut off from what looked like a security guard taking Violet’s
phone. “I thought you said she had a job interview?” I questioned what
Dottie had heard Violet say.
“She did say it was an interview,” Dottie confirmed.
An hour later, after we’d watched all the social media memes Violet had
been turned into, we finally decided to all go our separate ways and get into
bed. We would convene next morning in my yurt to talk about our next plan
of action.
Dottie said she had a migraine. She lied. She wasn’t fooling me. She
and Fifi were probably all snuggled up in my bed, watching TV and eating
something really good out of my refrigerator while the rest of us dined on
greens and sprouts.
There was no electricity, and the only other sound we heard outside of
the usual nighttime sounds we were accustomed to at the campground was
the RV’s generator, so Dottie was living large.
The inside of the yurt was hot, and the couch was lumpy. Queenie
snored away in the bed with the covers tucked clear up to her chin. The
more I stared at the owl photo frame with Kyra’s picture taped to it, the
more my mind took on all sorts of theories on why I needed to look into
Chad and Fay. If nothing else, their odd behavior when Kyra’s name was
brought up.
I got up and looked outside the yurt window and toward the parking lot.
There was a faint glow that I was sure came from my television. But when I
noticed the glow was much larger than one little drivable RV, I slipped on
the slippers and walked outside.
The smell of smoke and ash flew up my nose, and the crackling sound
of a large fire pinged my ears.
“Forest fire,” I gasped, knowing exactly what that was. I’d been
appointed to the National Parks Committee, where we performed controlled
forest fires.
But this time of the year, forest fires were very prominent, and no matter
what type of forest therapy there was that had to do with Mother Earth, she
made a mess all on her own sometimes.
“Queenie! Get up.” I shook her out of bed. She was dazed and confused
until I yelled, ”Forest fire!”
Her sleeping eyes popped right open.
“I’m going to get Hank and the girls,” I told her and ran out of the yurt.
Frantically knocking on the doors, I went from Betts and Abby’s yurt to
Hank’s.
“Fire! Fire!” I screamed, taking in the acidic, toxic smell.
Hank’s “Oh my gosh” and the look on his face were the last things that I
expected. We both stood there watching the dark sky glow orange with a
halo of burnt yellow lingering above it and dark smoke plumes floating on
top of that.
Abby, Queenie, Betts, and I hurried around the yurt lodge and beat on
every single door while yelling “Fire!” Hank took off toward the area where
the employees stayed so he could get Robin.
Though it looked a little off into the distance, and there didn’t seem to
be any sort of immediate evacuation, the wind whipped the stench toward
us. From what I knew, the fire could get one good blow and engulf every bit
of where we were standing.
“Dottie. Fifi.” My brain stopped. I stopped. My heart stopped when I
heard the familiar rattle of my little RV.
I jerked around and looked off into the parking lot. Barreling toward the
yurt lodge was the little yellow RV with Dottie at the wheel, smoke in her
mouth and Fifi in the passenger seat.
I waved my arms for people to get out of the way. The last things we
needed were Dottie bowling everyone over, a missing girl, and a forest fire.
The latter two were bad enough, but Dottie running someone over and
leaving a dead body on our hands was something I just couldn’t take.
Luckily, she skidded to an abrupt stop. She rolled down the passenger
window.
“I thought this was going to be a good idea when Hank told us about it,
but when I saw all them people rubbing and lovin’ up on them trees, I knew
somethin’ was off, and now that!” Her head swiveled to look back at the
fire. “That will kill us. Gather up everyone. We are outta here!”
Off in the distance and much closer to the fire, the sounds of fire
engines and their boisterous honks made the glowing fire even eerier. The
darkness of the smoke had taken a hold in the sky above us.
“Everyone.” The crackle of a bullhorn came to life. “Please, everyone.”
The soft voice trying to penetrate the chatter among us came from one of
the therapists I’d seen earlier with a group of attendees.
Dottie snarled and threw the RV in park. She slammed the door shut,
stalked over to the therapist, and took the bullhorn.
“Shut up! Shut up!” Dottie dragged her shoulders right and left so her
voice could be heard over them. “This woman wants to say something.”
She took the bullhorn from her mouth and handed it back to the therapist.
“Here you go, honey.”
“Thank you.” She nodded and proceeded. “The authorities have been
called about the fire. We will all gather at the tent and wait to see what they
want us to do. As employees of the practice, we will do as the authorities
tell us to do. We will keep our trees, forest animals, as well as all of nature
in our prayers as we meet.”
By the time the therapist was done talking, the Laundry Club Ladies and
Hank had all found their way back to one another. Our silence was a sign
we were all noodling what was going on.
“Where’s Robin?” Hank wondered. “I went to her quarters, and when
she didn’t answer, I opened the door, and she was gone.”
“Really?” I looked around for Chad. “And Chad?”
They both seemed to be the main people in charge. First Robin, then
Chad.
“Maybe they are.” Dottie wiggled her brows.
“Now is not the time, Dottie.” Hank walked away.
By the way he was looking around, I couldn’t help but think he was
trying to find someone in charge.
“Now is not the time for such things.” Betts rubbed her hand vigorously
on her arms. “I’ve got a chill. Do you think it’s okay to go back to the yurt
and grab a sweater?”
“I would think so,” Queenie said. “The fire is pretty far away. Do you
remember that awful fire about twenty years ago?”
Sometimes Queenie forgot that she and Dottie were much older than the
rest of us. Plus Betts didn’t grow up in Normal. Neither did I.
“Of course you don’t.” She laughed. “But when you were wee little”—
she pointed at Abby—“there was a huge fire about forty miles as the crow
flies, and it was a doozy. They thought it was going to get to us, but it took
a while for them to contain it. By the sound of all them fire trucks in the
distance, I’m sure they will get a good handle on it by going around the
perimeter to contain it.”
“Mae,” Hank said, calling me over to him with a head gesture. “I think
me and you need to go to the scene.”
“Why?” I asked. “Do you think this was deliberate?”
“You never know. Last night after everyone went to bed, I went to see
Robin.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I started to ask her all sorts of
questions about Kyra, and I even told her the truth about who we really are.
I also asked for her cooperation, and she said she’d need to think on it.”
“By thinking on it, do you think she really knows what happened to
Kyra?” I wondered. “You don’t think she set a fire?” I asked in disbelief
again. “Maybe covered up some evidence?”
“I told you that I don’t know, but when I was a forest ranger, people did
set a lot of fires to try and cover up a crime.” His phone chimed in a text.
“It’s Tucker Pyle. I put in a call to him a little while ago, and he said he’d
check on it.”
Hank walked away, and I kept an eye on him to see his response. It was
too dark, and he was looking down at his feet while he shuffled in the grass.
“Well?” I asked about the quick chat.
“He said he called the local ranger station here, and they found a body.
A charred body.”
I’ve heard of having a chill so deep in your bones that it took days to
recover. I’d never known exactly what that meant until just now.
CHAPTER 4

H
ank and I had slipped away from the group but not without
telling the Laundry Club Ladies. They were really good at
diverting conversations and people if someone noticed we were
gone.
Betts said she’d keep an eye out for any signs of Chad or Robin. If they
did show up, Betts was going to ask them a few questions Hank told her to
ask. Things about their whereabouts and when they heard about the fire or
even something about fires in the past.
Hank and I had to take the RV to get there. He flashed his old ranger
badge, and the police immediately let us pass through the roadblock they
had set up.
“I’m so glad you still keep that thing.” My heart pumped as we got
closer to the scene where the forest fire had come into eyeshot.
I saw several firetrucks, police cars, sheriff cars, and ranger vehicles and
most of those people who arrived in those vehicles standing around in little
clusters.
The firehoses were fully extended from their truck all the way through
the woods and up a hill to where the fire still burned.
“What do you think we have?” Hank found Tucker Pyle.
“How did you two get in here with that?” Tucker asked. He shook his
head. “Maybe I don’t want to know.” He focused on the fire ahead. “It
appears the dead body is a woman. We aren’t sure who, but her shoes
weren’t completely charred. The entire body is.”
He glanced over to Colonel Holz.
I was shocked to see him, since he was the coroner of Normal. I was not
sure why he was here.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked Tucker.
“We are short everywhere, including the coroner, so lately, the rangers
have asked some of the law enforcement to pitch in when we need them.
Colonel and a few other coroners in the surrounding counties offered to take
different night shifts. It just so happens to be his night.” Tucker made it
sound like he was sorry for Colonel, but I wasn’t.
Colonel being on the scene was a great thing for Hank and me. We’d
worked with him many times before, so I knew what buttons to push to get
information out of him.
“What else do you know?” Hank asked.
“Not much. The fire does look like it was controlled,” Tucker added.
“As in a controlled burn like we do in the other areas of the forest?” I
asked.
“Yep.” He rocked back on his heels.
“Have you heard any rumblings if they believed the woman was an
innocent bystander or…” Hank didn’t need to finish his sentence to let us
know what he meant.
“I think you’ll have to wait to see what Colonel says. When I mean the
body is burned, I’m talking charcoaled and few ashes.” Tucker’s description
made me a bit dizzy thinking about it.
“That guy over there is who called 911.” Tucker pointed at a man
wearing jogging pants, a short-sleeved shirt, tennis shoes, and glasses.
“Said he was running when he noticed it.”
He was about six feet tall and appeared to be in good physical
condition.
“Name?” I asked.
“Jon Krause.” Tucker shifted his focus to the man, who appeared to be
having his vitals checked.
“Thank you.” I excused myself and made a beeline to the man. “I’m
sorry to bother you. Mae West, Normal private investigation.” I mumbled
the word “private” so it sounded like “investigation” was the only word he
needed to hear.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” He bent down slightly to hear me better.
“Mae.” I cleared my throat. “The ranger tells me you called 911. We can
get that recording, but we’d like to know your accounts from your mouth.”
“I was jogging along the road here and noticed the orange glow from
about fifty feet. At first, I thought it was going to be a gorgeous sunrise, but
when I rounded the corner, I saw the fire.” He bent down again. “Who did
you say you were?”
“And did you see anyone coming from the fire? Anyone who drove past
you at this hour of the night?” I didn’t answer his question but peppered
him with mine.
“No. I mean, I didn’t pay too much attention. I just called the police to
let them know.” He blinked a few times. The medic had the man sit on the
bumper of the ambulance and proceeded to put the blood pressure cuff on
his arm.
“You didn’t see anyone running down the hill or zooming away that
would’ve set a woman on fire and try to flee the scene?” I questioned him.
“And why is the medic checking you out?”
“Hold on a second.” The medic put his stethoscope to the runner’s arm.
It was hard not to tap my foot. I knew I was on borrowed time before
someone noticed me asking questions and wanted to know who I was and
why I was so interested. “I think we should take you to the hospital.”
“I’m fine,” the jogger assured the medic. “I think I just got a little
smoke in my lungs. That’s all.”
“How did you get smoke in your lungs?” I asked, since he had said he
was jogging by.
“I guess it’s in the air.” His shoulders slumped. “Fine, you can take me
to get checked out. Only if you don’t keep me. I’m training for a marathon,
and even one day can hurt my progress.”
“It’s best you get checked out.” I nodded. “Thanks, Jon.”
“Who was she?” I heard him ask the medic when I walked off.
Hank had gone over to pay a visit to Colonel Holz. When I walked up,
Colonel greeted me with his standard look, which was an expression that
implicitly asked, “Why are you here?”
“Colonel. I guess Hank told you we’re looking for a missing woman.” I
asserted myself right on into the investigation.
“He sure did, and like I told him, I won’t be able to give any
information on who she is until an autopsy. If I can get her dental records,
that would help speed up the process.” That was at least a starting point for
us.
“I’ll go see her parents this morning and see what they can get from the
dentist for me.” He looked at me.
“What about the Forest Bathing Therapy Retreat?” I asked him on our
way back to the RV.
“We need to stay there. If this is Kyra, then her killer could be one of
the guests.” Hank was right, but the killer’s actions sure didn’t go along
with how someone learning to be a forest therapist should act. “And if it’s
not her, then she’s still missing.”
Hank’s answer to my question was a lot more complicated than I
wanted it to be, and it was clear that we weren’t going anywhere anytime
soon.
CHAPTER 5

W
hen we got back to the Forest Bathing Retreat compound, I
found Betts, Abby, and Queenie sitting underneath the white
tent, listening to Chad strum on his guitar.
“Hey.” I crossed my legs and sat down next to Queenie. “Where is
Dottie? I didn’t see her when we pulled up. I wanted to let her know she
could have the RV back and check on Fifi.”
Before Hank and I had driven off to the fire, Dottie took Fifi for me. Fifi
loved her, which made it better for me—I didn’t have to worry about Fifi
while Hank and I were assessing the fire.
“She took Fifi to Forest Dog Bathing,” Abby interrupted in a whisper.
“Dog bathing?” My mouth dropped.
Three of my friends nodded. Betts was the farthest from me. She leaned
over.
“What did you find out about the fire?” Betts asked.
“Excuse me.” Fay tapped on my shoulder. “This is music to the senses
for our therapy.”
It was her way of telling us to stop talking.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I mouthed and stood up to go find Dottie. “I’m
going to see what Fifi is up to.”
Queenie pointed behind Chad. I looked back and to my side to see if
there was a way to go without having to move around him. I’d already
brought enough attention to our group and myself. Unfortunately, it
appeared all the guests were underneath the tent in the much-needed music
therapy Chad was belting out.
With my head focused on my feet, I tiptoed around Chad and out from
underneath the tent. I didn’t look back because I didn’t want to take in Fay’s
assessing eyes.
The path just behind the tent was visibly clear. There were tall pine trees
on each side of the beaten-down grass.
“Your dog’s cortisol levels go up as our cortisol levels go up. That
means when they are with us, they know and feel how you feel. We really
need to help them. All of us can be a little selfish.” Robin smiled and made
eye contact with the group. “When we need to not only love Mother Earth
but also our dogs. Forest bathing is just as important to your dog as it is to
you.”
Fifi had noticed me walking up to the group. She darted over to me, off
her leash, and sat down at my feet. Dottie knew I didn’t like Fifi to be off
her leash because the nightly creatures would love to eat Fifi as a snack.
“Today we are going on a forest bathing walk with our dogs.” Robin
looked to see where Fifi was going. Her eyes settled on me. “When we go,
you will notice your dogs will take a pause on the path. This is them taking
time for themselves to sniff. A lot of the time, when we take our dogs for a
walk, we don’t allow them to sniff. It’s always go potty, hurry up.”
Robin bent down and patted another unleashed dog who had sniffed his
way to her.
“We are going to let them lead the way. If you have a leash, which I
highly recommend, I suggest the leash be long so they can have a good
distance between you and them. We are so naturally letting our dogs tune
into us, but today I want you to tune into your dog.” Robin was good at
getting the pet owners to listen to her and agree to every word coming from
her mouth.
Robin took a step away from the mouth of the path and let the dogs run
ahead. Fifi didn’t miss a beat. She loved other dogs and wanted to be with
them.
“When your dog stops, I don’t want you to sit down as they sniff. This
is something they will think you want. They will be happy to just sit where
you do. But when you listen to them, let them sniff and let them decide if
they want to stay in that particular area. If they do, they will sit,” Robin
whispered, as if she didn’t want to disturb the sniff walk. “If you sit down,
the dog’s natural instinct is to sniff around to make sure that you are safe.”
Dottie nudged me.
“Looky there.” She snickered when all the dogs had stopped to sniff on
each other. “They don’t care about none of this junk.”
“Dottie, did you have something of significance to say to the group?” It
was obvious Robin called Dottie out for breaking the humans’ silence.
“I was just telling Mae how lucky we are that we do live in the forest
and Fifi gets to forest bathe every day. She loves jumping in the lake at
Happy Trails Campground,” Dottie said.
“Did you say Happy Trails Campground?” Robin asked and flashed me
a look. “That’s where I know you. You’re Mae West, who owns Happy
Trails Campground. You don’t manage a laundromat.”
“We have a laundry room at the campground. And Betts”—Dottie
realized she’d said too much about us personally, though Hank had told us
to be broad when we talked—“she owns a laundromat.”
“Dottie.” I called her name to stop her from saying more. “Fifi looks
like she went ahead. Why don’t you go watch her.” It wasn’t a question.
The other dogs were walking around their owners and looking around at
them aimlessly like they wanted direction.
“My dog looks confused.” One of the other owners was trying to see
what she needed to do for her dog. “I am trying to let her sniff around.”
“It’s fine.” For the time being, Robin was answering questions and left
me alone.
I hurried past the group to find Dottie and Fifi so we could get out of
there to let Hank know Dottie had blown our cover.
“I can’t pretend I’m not me.” Dottie wanted so badly to have an excuse
for her slip-up.
I had my phone out of my pocket—a big no-no, according to Robin—so
I could use the pin I’d dropped at the yurt in my maps app and take a
different trail through the forest to get back to the compound.
“Let’s look at the bright side.” My phone rang, and I finished telling
Dottie what I was going to say before I answered it. “Now we can ask
Robin straightforward questions. It’s Violet.”
Dottie’s eyes widened.
“Hey, Violet!” I wanted to make sure there was nothing in my tone to
give her an inkling we were on an investigation. “Dottie told me you were
leaving for your dream job interview. That’s wonderful.”
“Mae West. It’s one thing for you to lie straight to my face. It’s a whole
‘nother thing for you to lie to me on the phone.” Violet was smart, and she
already knew we’d seen the footage. After all, Abby Fawn Bond was known
for her amazing social media marketing skills, and she was on her phone all
the time. “I know you’ve seen my report. All the world has.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but yes, Abby showed us.” I took my
phone from my ear and hit the speaker so Dottie and I could follow the map
back to the compound while we talked to Violet.
“Violet, honey, you looked and did great.” Dottie’s encouraging side
was a refreshing change from how she normally treated Violet. “What?”
Dottie asked me when I smiled. “She needs encouragement. She’s in a new
town where she has no one.”
“I wanted to call and pick your brain about this body.” Violet had given
us the lowdown on what she’d found out already.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
THE TEMPLE OF
THE GOD OF LITERATURE
AT MUKDEN
THE TEMPLE OF
THE FOX, MUKDEN.

Another temple at Mukden, greatly frequented by mandarins. A


group of them is seated in the centre. The temple is situated close to
the city wall, which is shown in process of decay, the descending
roots of the trees stripping off its facing, which lies and will continue
to lie on the ground. It is an admirable illustration of the way things
are allowed to go to ruin in China. The Chinese will undertake new
works; they seldom repair old ones, and an aspect of decay is
consequently frequently visible.
THE TEMPLE OF
THE FOX, MUKDEN
WAYSIDE SHRINES.

Found all over the country, and commonly known as “Joss Houses.”
There is an idol in each of them. They are of interest as presenting a
similar feature to the shrine and wayside crucifixes found all over
Catholic countries in Europe.
A WAYSIDE SHRINE
A WAYSIDE SHRINE
THE FICUS RELIGIOSA.

A kind of banyan tree found in every village of the South and South
Central Provinces of China. Its foliage covers an enormous extent of
ground. The tree itself is an object of worship, and an altar for the
burning of incense is always found beneath it.
THE FICUS RELIGIOSA
THE ALTAR OF
HEAVEN.

A fine picture of an open-air altar outside Foochow City.


THE ALTAR OF
HEAVEN
THE TABLET
OF CONFUCIUS.

Wherever there is a magistrate there is a temple to Confucius, in


which the magistrates do homage in memory of the Great Teacher.
The tablet is inscribed with a number of his most important sayings
having a bearing on the administration of justice. This great man has
by his teaching dominated the laws, the teaching, the literature, and
the whole social life of nearly half the human race for the last two
thousand years. These shrines are absolutely taboo to the foreigner,
a fact which was learned by the traveller only after she had entered it
and, finding it absolutely empty, had made her photograph.

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