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Series Book 31) Tonya Kappes
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HAMMOCKS, HANDGUNS, &
HEARSAY
A CAMPER AND CRIMINALS COZY MYSTERY BOOK 31
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

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Recipes and Camping Hack from Mae West and the Laundry Club Ladies
Cinnamon and Blueberry Campfire Bread
Camping Hack #1
Ham and Bean Soup Over the Campfire
Camping Hack #2
Also By Tonya Kappes
About Tonya
 TONYA KAPPES
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The bell dinged over the door of the Smelly Dog Groomer’s front door
when I walked in, reminding me of the bell that’d dinged a few days ago
when I brought Fifi in. I’d not seen or talked to Ethel since then. She wasn’t
in the front room of the store to greet me, so I couldn’t help but wonder if
she was a tad bit embarrassed.
“Help! Help!” The scream was heard before the footsteps.
Chester growled before he let go his low, hunting howl just as Orlene
Roth barreled out of the back room.
“Mae!” She gasped and pointed at the back. “C… C…”
“Orlene, what’s wrong?” I asked as she fell and fainted. “Orlene.”
I bent down and couldn’t bother with Chester tugging on the leash. I let
go of it to attend to Orlene.
She was alive.
I reached for my phone and called the emergency squad.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” I heard Agnes’s voice come across
the line.
“Agnes, it’s Mae. Can you send an ambulance to the Smelly Dog
Groomer? Orlene Roth has passed out.” My voice got louder with each
word so I could talk over Chester. “I’m sorry. Chester seems to be getting
louder.”
“I can’t hear you, Mae,” Agnes chirped into the phone.
“Orlene is passed out.” I debated on whether to leave Orlene lying on
the floor or go get Chester to stop barking so I could get the right help.
“Chester! Stop barking!”
“What is going on with Orlene?” Agnes asked.
With a quick check of Orlene’s pulse, which she had, I left her there to
get Chester to be quiet.
“She passed out!” I called into the phone on my way to the back room,
where I found Chester standing near a body.
Not just any body.
It was Colt Lincoln.
The Colt Lincoln.
The famous bounty hunter from television.
 He wasn’t sleeping. His eyes were open, and he was lying in a pool of
what appeared to be his own blood.
“Make that Al Hemmer and Colonel Holz,” I told Agnes just as my eyes
slid down Colt’s body, where a hot pink sponge curler was clipped on his
finger.
CHAPTER 1

H ell in a hand basket.

Mm-hmm, that’s what I’d call how this day, this week, heck, this
month was turning out.
“Hell in a hand basket,” I muttered and shifted a little bit in my seat.
I had to get a gander at was going on across the grassy median at the
Smelly Dog Groomer shop.
“What’s happening now?” I asked and leaned a little more to the right. I
had to get a clear vision of what was going on. After all, I was the one who
found the dead body inside.
Not just any dead body.
Colt Lincoln.
As in the Colt Lincoln.
Yep. The famous bounty hunter who had his own television show, Colt
Lincoln.
I looked out the window and took in all the surroundings. The sun had
started to set, and several tourists noticed, taking their phones out to get that
amazing shot so they could put it on their latest social media with hashtag
sunset or hashtag Daniel Boone National Forest.
Off in the distance I noticed Willie Nelson, not the Willie Nelson like
the Colt Lincoln, but our local Willie who did take professional
photographs of the national forest we called home.
It was my meeting with him to discuss hiring him to take photos of my
upcoming fall wedding that even brought me to the Smelly Dog Groomers.
In a roundabout way.
Chester, my soon to be step-dog, had an appointment to get a bath and
nail trim at the Smelly Dog, so I thought it would be easiest to kill two birds
with one stone. Not happen upon the body where it was a “kill one bounty
hunter with one bullet” kinda thing.
I’d been waiting on Willie to text me back, and when he did, it was after
finding the dead body bounty hunter, after which Sheriff Al Hemmer told
me to wait outside of the shop. So I’d found myself wandering over to the
coffee shop where it was much easier to wait with a cup of coffee.
Still, I glanced around and noticed just how deceiving the Daniel Boone
National Forest was.
It was like a seduction by a beautiful woman who on the outside was
stunning but where on the inside deep and dark secrets loomed.
Pulling up the mug to my lips, I let out a little snort. The tourists laying
on the blanket in the middle of the grassy median between me and the
Smelly Dog Groomer had no idea that just a few feet away the show they
loved and the bounty hunter they’d made famous, Colt Lincoln, lay in there.
Dead.
My eyes lowered as they warded off the last little bit of sun as it began
to dip toward the horizon, the sky transformed into a stunning canvas of
warm hues. Shades of orange, pink, and gold streaked across the sky,
blending together seamlessly like a watercolor painting.
Again, my eyes wandered to the grassy median, the parklike setting
between the one-way streets of downtown Normal, Kentucky.
The lush green trees and rugged hillsides of the forest are bathed in a
warm, golden light, creating a serene and tranquil atmosphere, but here I
was, anxiously awaiting what questions Sheriff Al Hemmer had for me.
I looked back behind me into the Trails Coffee Shop, the local
coffeehouse, and over to the living wall where Gert Hobson, the owner of
Trails Coffee, had paid a pretty penny for a fancy architect to design it to
reflect the seasonal foliage of the forest.
Wildflowers popped around in vibrant colors would make anyone smile,
but not me.
Not today.
Chester was lying up against the wall next to the fountain-style dog
bowl she’d kept there for the four-legged friends since most of the time the
patrons, who were mainly hikers and campers, traveled with their furry
companions.
Seeing he was settled, I turned back to the window.
 The colors of the sky intensified as the sun sank, casting a rosy glow
across everything the last bit of rays touched.
The familiar shuffle of Gert’s hiking boots echoed closer and closer.
Without looking, I slid my coffee cup along the table just shy of the edge
for her to refill.
“Colonel Holz is wheeling the body out,” Gert Hobson said, spilling the
turned coffeepot away from my mug at the reminder of the murder that’d
taken place a couple of hours earlier across the street. “I’m so sorry.”
She plucked a couple of napkins from the center of the table and wiped
up the steaming liquid crawling to the edge of the table before it could
waterfall to the floor.
“Here comes Al.” I scooted my chair back in place and acted as if I’d
not been glued to Trails Coffee’s front window.
“Don’t forget the packages I put together for the campground,” she
reminded me.
I’d called Gert earlier in the day to let her know I was dropping Chester
off at Smelly Dog and needed to pick up the packages of coffee and filters
for the rental campers and the bungalows that she graciously donated.
Instead of grabbing the boxes after I dropped Chester off, Hank, my fiancé,
his sister Ellis, and I were going to stick around downtown and have a good
cup of coffee, maybe visit with Gert, and wait for Ethel Biddle to finish
grooming Chester.
Speaking of Ethel, my mind curled back to me finding Colt. Ethel
wasn’t there. Orlene Roth was though.
I shook my head to clear it of even the inkling of the idea that I was
going to put my nose into another murder when a flash of a shadow outside
the window took my me out of my thoughts.
“I also put some special Hiker’s Morning Blend in the complimentary
box,” she noted, as she put an empty mug on the table and filled it up.
“That’s for you,” she told Sheriff Al Hemmer as soon as he walked through
the door.
Al gave a solid nod to Gert before he reached for the back of the chair
across from me. The legs screeched across the floor as his eyes fixed on me
like he was trying to study what I was thinking.
"Alright, Mae, let's start from the beginning," Sheriff Al said, his brow
furrowed in confusion after his attempt at trying to read me.
 It went without saying that Al Hemmer got the sheriff’s job after his
uncle, Judge Gab Hemmer, had appointed him for the job as a temporary
replacement.
Like most things around these parts, we didn’t like change, and well,
once you got into an elected official job, it was hard to be scooted or booted
out. That’s how we got stuck with Al.
Dottie Swaggert was right when she said he was fumbly like the old
television deputy sheriff Barney Fife from The Andy Griffith Show. He even
had the appearance of a much younger version. The tall, thin, long-legged,
goofy sense of humor. At times it was endearing. Not so much today.
“Me, Hank, and Ellis were going to meet with Willie Nelson here at
Trails Coffee to discuss wedding photos.” It wasn’t like Ellis, my soon-to-
be sister-in-law, had a say in it or that we were very close, but I’d started
seeing a side of Ellis where just a kind hand, or even a nice gesture, would
help her blossom into the person I often saw her hide behind.
I didn’t include how I’d made the meeting with Willie to be around
Chester’s appointment. Again, kinda like that “kill two birds with one
stone” thing I’d said about Colt.
“The door was open, like always, and I walked Chester inside.” I
shrugged. “I didn’t see Ethel in there, but I heard Orlene scream.” I also left
out the part about Chester’s hunting dog howl he’d let out. “And I found her
standing over Colt’s body, freaking out.”
“How did the body look?” he asked.
“Dead.” I knew what he was trying to get me to say, but I wanted him to
say it, not me. Not me on the record of whatever it was that he would write
down in his little notebook.
"You found Colt dead inside the Smelly Dog Groomer, holding a hot
pink hair curler that belongs to Dottie Swaggert.” He took a small notebook
from the pocket of his brown sheriff’s vest and tossed it on top of the table
like it had some sort of effect on me.
I pushed a strand of my long, curly honey-blond hair behind my
shoulder and raised a brow.
“Is that correct?" He finally asked, slowly draping his right arm over the
back of the chair and then using his other hand to reach for the full cup of
coffee Gert had left for him.
I could still hear how the bell dinged over the door of the Smelly Dog
Groomer’s front door.
 “Help! Help!” I heard Orlene Roth screaming at the top of her lungs,
and it was like I wasn’t even in my body. Chester had growled like he’d
done when he was a hunting dog right before Orlene barreled out of the
back room.
“Mae!” The way Orlene had gasped my name still sent goose bumps up
and down my spine, leaving me with a cold shiver.
You know those kind of bone-chilling colds that no matter what you do
you can’t get them to leave your body? That kind of shiver. And it’d settled
deep inside my bones and was still there.
“I am not going to say it was Dottie Swagger’s pink sponge curler.” I
wasn’t going to peg my best friend as a murderer, though her sudden
disappearance had me slightly baffled.
It did look bad on Dottie’s part. She’d kinda been dating Colt Lincoln.
She’d found out he’d only dated her to get information, probably for one of
his upcoming shows, and she did give him the old heave-ho but not without
publicly trash-talking him, which didn’t look good on her when I found him
dead with the sponge curler that suspiciously looked like the kind she used.
Plus she wasn’t answering my calls or texts. That didn’t look good, but I
wasn’t going to tell Al any of my thoughts.
"And you didn't see anyone else inside the groomer when you found
him? Besides Orlene, that is,” Al asked, scratching his head and curling his
forefinger around the handle of the mug.
"No, Al. I was just there to drop Chester off to be groomed. I didn't
expect to find Colt there," I replied in a shaking voice. “I figured on Orlene
and Ethel to be there, but not Colt.”
"Well, it just doesn't add up," Al said, leaning back in his chair, letting
go of the mug. "Why would Dottie's hair curler be there, and why would
Colt be holding it?"
“Maybe it wasn’t Dottie’s.” I threw it out there. “Why don’t you get it
tested for any sort of DNA if there’s a hair on it or fingerprints?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He was quick to answer before he excused himself for a
moment to make a phone call.
It didn’t take a master sleuth to see Dottie Swaggert had popped onto
Al’s suspect list, taking the number one spot. A list where number one was
not a winning spot.
I tried to recall the sponge curler in my mind to see if there were any
sort of details I could compare to the ones Dottie used, but nothing was
coming to me.
Time. I needed some time to process.
It wasn’t unusual for a little shock, after something like finding a dead
body, to wash over someone and the events right after to become a little less
clear. In time small bits and pieces would come back, but right then all I
remembered was bending down to see if Orlene was okay after she fainted
and calling 911.
Al came back to the table and sat down.
“Do you know what is going to descend upon Normal if we don’t find
out who killed the Colt Lincoln?” Al’s confidence waned, giving me a slight
edge to this here conversation.
“When the world finds out the most famous bounty hunter in America is
murdered?” I snorted and nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
Boy, did I know. Better than anyone in Normal, Kentucky.
Heck. For that matter, better than anyone in Kentucky after my history
of being the wife of the biggest Ponzi scheme crook in all of American
history.
“Yeah. I reckon you do.” He sat up and leaned on his elbows on the
edge of the table.
My phone vibrated, facedown on top of the table.
“Dottie?” Al asked after I picked it up and sent it to voicemail.
“No. I was hoping.” My lips tugged in a smile. “It was Willie Nelson.”
“The zealot?” Al’s eyes narrowed.
“He’s not a zealot. He’s passionate and a great artist,” I said, though
Willie was one who liked to live as a nomad in the forest. It was like his art
and life being one with each other gave him the opportunity to take in the
real beauty, not the surface things, of the forest.
The way the lens of his camera had captured the stars and night sky
over top of the Daniel Boone National Forest was something I’d never seen
before, and soon he was going to be world famous. Or at least he would be
after I got Abby Fawn Bonds, my sister-in-law and marketing genius, to
spread the word about him.
He would be a viral sensation.
“I need to take this.” I wagged the phone.
“When you’re finished, I want you to come back over to the Smelly
Dog.” Al stood up. The chair smacked the floor after he fumbled around a
bit, then he went to pick it up and his rump hit the table, almost knocking
the coffee mug over again.
I waved a hand and put the phone up to my ear.
“Hi, Willie,” I greeted him and dug down into my jean’s pocket to grab
some cash to leave for a tip. “I know we were going to meet up tonight, but
something has come up. Can we meet up later this week to discuss the
wedding?”
Willie mumbled something about some of his buddies coming in and he
was going to be busy for the week. Though I’d seen him in the park a few
minutes before Al had walked into the coffee shop, I’d glanced out the
window to see if he was still there. I didn’t see him.
“That’s fine. The wedding isn’t until this fall, so we have some time,” I
told him as the coffee shop’s glass window rattled from a gang of
motorcycles driving past.
It was hard not to notice them. There had to be at least fifty of them.
They were so loud even the conversations in the coffee shop had stopped
and a few customers had walked near the window to watch them drive past.
It wasn’t unusual for people to drive their motorcycles through the
forest on a gorgeous day. The scenery was breathtaking and the weather was
perfect, but I don’t recall ever seeing that many. It was unusual to see a lot
of them wearing the same jacket and motorcycle clothing that got your
attention and said that this was a real motorcycle gang.
“I heard there was a biker’s convention.” Gert had joined me at the
window. “Maybe I need to make a biker’s brew,” she said as I hung up with
Willie.
“You are so smart.” I laughed and pointed to Chester. “Do you care if he
lays there until Hank is done?”
Hank and his partner, Jerry Truman, had rented out the empty back
room of the coffee house when they decided to quit law enforcement all
together and open a private investigation office. They’d only gotten tedious
jobs that kept them busy and today was no different.
While Chester was going to his appointment at the Smelly Dog
Groomer, me and Ellis were going to hang out at Trails Coffee to visit with
Gert while Hank did some work in the office.
Colt Lincoln changed all of that. Well, at least most of the plans had
changed.
 Ellis had walked down to the Normal Diner. Ty Randal, her husband,
and his family owned the diner. Al had asked me to stay around to get my
statement, and there was no need for Ellis or Hank to hang out. They’d not
seen anything.
“Yes. He’s always welcome to stay here,” Gert said.
I knew she wouldn’t’ve had a problem, but it was always nice to ask
and not assume. Chester would come to Trails Coffee with Hank, so he
truly was no trouble, and he was fast asleep like he’d be if he was in Hank’s
office.
“I’ll be back after I answer all of Al’s questions,” I told her and stepped
out onto the sidewalk, stopping to watch even more motorcycles roll past.
There was a brief opening between riders for me to run across the one-
way street. Like the customers at the coffee house, the people in the grassy
median, the parklike setting between the one-way streets, had stopped what
they were doing and watched too.
It was interesting to see what got people’s attention and what didn’t.
Take the Smelly Dog for an example.
There was a sheriff car, a ranger truck, and a hearse all parked in front
of the groomer’s. No one seemed to even bat an eye at the three vehicles.
Then there was the slew of bikers driving through town and everyone
stopped.
Out of the corner of my eye near the far left of the amphitheater, I
noticed someone standing in the shadows of one of the pillars with his eyes
focused on the Smelly Dog.
CHAPTER 2

I pushed open the door of the Smelly Dog Groomers and was
immediately hit by the overpowering scent of wet dog and shampoo
married with the smell of death. A scent you never get used to.
My nose wrinkled as I stepped inside and took a deep breath to steady
myself.
“There she is,” I heard Al say to Tucker Pyle, the Forest Ranger
assigned to Normal.
The scene was grim.
Colt Lincoln's body lay crumpled on the ground, his head at an odd
angle and the pink sponge curler still clutched tightly in his hand.
The room was much clearer and brighter than I’d remembered it being.
In fact, after I had found Orlene and Colt, I didn’t stick around too much
longer to check Colt out, other than noticing he was visibly dead.
Now I could see the source of the injury that’d caused Colt’s death by
the pool of blood that was still wet and gleaming in the harsh overhead
light.
“Hey, Tucker.” I greeted him with a slight smile, which was just a
standard way of greeting someone even though the scene was grim.
“I heard you found him.” The edges of Tucker’s eyes dipped. The
dimple in his chin deepened along with his frown. Whisps of his thick blond
hair poked out from underneath his ranger hat.
“That’s not really factual.” I glanced over to where Orlene Roth was
huddled behind the check-out counter. Her head was in her hands, her chest
heaving up and down as if she were hyperventilating.
“I was dropping Chester off for his appointment. The door was open,
and we came inside. When Orlene screamed out, that’s when I noticed
Colt.” I wanted to make sure there wasn’t any sort of false hearsay running
around.
“Orlene found him but doesn’t recall,” Al interjected, locking his
thumbs in the front pocket of his brown sheriff’s uniform pants. He lifted
his chin and gave Orlene a glance.
“I’m sure she’s in shock.” I shrugged and wanted to give her a pass on
her memory of events, knowing bits and pieces would come back over the
next hours to days after her body was no longer in the high-anxiety state.
“We have the dispatch call, so we know what happened after that.”
Tucker frowned. “This is going to be a very high-profile case, seeing it’s
Colt Lincoln.”
“Man.” Al shuffled his foot. “I loved watching his show. I guess we
won’t be seeing any more episodes.”
“That’s why he was here, right, Mae?” Tucker asked a question I was
hoping wasn’t going to be brought up.
“Yeah.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I know you, Al, and I know you
think Dottie did this.”
“Now I didn’t say that, Mae,” Al stated so he could cover his tracks on
any sort of loosely based investigation. “But you can’t deny that right
there.” Al pointed to the biggest piece of evidence against Dottie.
The pink sponge curler.
Colonel Holz, the coroner, was bent over Colt’s body, with his little
black bag next to him, doing his initial assessment. He took all sorts of
recorded notes and photos, citing the photo number.
“Anyone can purchase hot-pink sponge curlers. Heck, the Piggly
Wiggly sells them in cosmetics, aisle four.” I walked around the body
carefully, taking in every detail. “I’m not pointing fingers at anyone. Can
you imagine how many people wanted Colt dead? Look at all those shows
he did, making people look like big time criminals when they skipped bail,
embarrassing them on national television.”
“This is going to be a high-profile homicide.” Tucker said it again like
we didn’t already hear him the first time and didn’t realize it ourselves.
“Which is why we have to get this solved fast.”
Al had said the words I’d been waiting to hear. “Does that mean you
want my help? Is that why you wanted me to come over here?” I asked,
knowing good and well Al knew I was pretty darn good at getting
information out of people.
 “And you know I’m going to do all I can to make sure Dottie is
innocent, and that means scouring every single step Colt Lincoln has taken
since he drove his big fifth wheel into Happy Trails Campground.” I had
one up on them. I’d spent a lot of time with Colt Lincoln since he’d rented
the campground space from me at my campground.
“He was staying at the campground?” Al asked.
“Yes. He was hired by Orlene Roth and Ethel Biddle to help get Otis
Gullett off murder charges back at Christmas.” By the way Al was looking
at me, he had no idea why Colt Lincoln had initially come to the Daniel
Boone National Forest.
His mouth opened slightly, his right brow cocked as his head slightly
jutted forward.
“That’s right. Orlene Roth had contacted him or his business somehow
to get him to look into our little town. That’s when he read all about me and
the Laundry Club Ladies, digging deeper into our lives when he preyed
upon Dottie’s kind heart to make her think he was here to date her.” As
harsh as it sounded, it was the truth. “He used our information to feed to
Orlene and Ethel, who by the way call themselves the Smelly Dog
Sleuthers.”
Without looking, I could hear Orlene moving around. She was listening
to every word I was saying.
“He broke Dottie’s heart,” I told them. “But not enough for her to kill
him,” I put in for good measure, though it would’ve been a perfect motive
for her.
Orlene stopped sobbing, looked up and then started blubbering all over
again.
“Orlene, is that right? Did you hire Colt Lincoln to come to Normal and
he used Dottie to get information?”
“He showed up too late, as you know.” Orlene spit out the fact Otis had
been cleared of any wrongdoing a few months before Colt showed up. “But
with his production schedule, he’d just had a break to come to town. He’d
not known the case was solved, but I had to get Otis free somehow after
you tried to put him in jail.” She pointed a finger at Al and gave it a good
shake. “Dottie was mad. There’s no doubt about it. And Ethel and I felt bad.
We told him to leave town, and we ain’t seen him until” —she gulped, her
eyes moving past us to Colt’s body—“now,” she cried, throwing her head
back in her hands.
 “Where is Ethel?” Al asked and walked over to Orlene, leaving me there
with Colonel and Tucker.
“She’s at a national dog grooming convention for the week. She left a
couple of days ago, leaving me in charge.” Orlene’s eyes were red around
the rims.
Al had a few more questions for her, and I took the moment to look
around the shop where the grooming tables were pushed up against the wall
and there were several overturned chairs scattered around. I could see that
there had been a struggle, but I couldn't quite piece together what had
happened.
The smell of death was heavy in the air, made me feel queasy.
“Here.” Tucker, being the southern gentleman he was, pulled out a
handkerchief and gave it to me. “You look a little green around the gills.”
I held it to my nose, trying to ignore the sickly sweet odor as I crouched
down to examine Colt’s body.
"What do you think we have here?" Colonel said, peering over my
shoulder.
My heart raced as I bent down over Colt in the dimly lit shop, an eerie
chill settling in the air. The coppery tang of blood hung heavy in the room.
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and put the handkerchief back
over my nose and mouth.
Colt, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, lay lifeless on the
floor, not just a victim. He had a name. No matter what his reasoning for
being in Normal was, seeing him up close made me realize he was a victim
of something horrible.
His bespectacled eyes were wide with the shock of his untimely demise.
His plaid shirt was impeccable, but the crimson stain blooming across his
chest suggested a violent disruption to his otherwise calm morning.
I crouched down, my knees protesting as I examined what I thought
looked like a gunshot wound. It was a small, dark hole surrounded by a
charred circle of fabric, like a sinister eye staring back at me. The blood that
had seeped from the wound had soaked Colt’s shirt and formed a sticky,
congealed pool on the tile floor beneath him. I wondered how long it had
been since the fatal shot was fired.
Naturally I’d also tried to see if it went along with the last time I’d seen
Dottie.
 I tilted my head slightly to inspect the wall behind the victim. The once-
cream wallpaper was marred by a gruesome spray of blood, dotted with
flecks of crimson that radiated outward from the center. Amidst the macabre
pattern, a hole no larger than a dime caught my eye—the bullet's exit
wound.
It was apparent by the lack of background noise and chatter among the
various law enforcement people in the shop that they were watching me
closely. I stood up and kept my eye on the very small bullet hole in the wall,
walking lightly so as not to disrupt any evidence that could be on the floor.
I noticed the surrounding plaster around the hole was fractured, forming
a spiderweb of cracks that extended from the bullet hole like the tendrils of
a poisonous plant.
Al snapped his finger, and immediately one of his deputies started to
investigate the hole. Using a pair of pliers, he took out what sure did look
like a bullet to me.
As I studied the scene, I couldn't help but notice the unusual lack of
gunpowder residue on the wall. This absence of evidence piqued my
curiosity, and I knew that this case would prove to be far more intricate than
it first appeared.
Initially I thought someone had stalked the stalker, which would be the
bounty hunter’s job—came in, shot him, and left. But the scene didn’t play
out like that.
I had to take into consideration all of the surroundings. That included
the overturned pieces of pet grooming supplies in the room. There was a
struggle.
Sure Colt and Dottie could’ve gotten into it and turned things over, him
grabbing on to her hair to stop her and pulling out a sponge curler, but I
clearly remember Dottie didn’t have sponge curlers in her hair when I last
saw her.
But for now, I’d keep that little bit of information to myself. We were
still at the gathering stages of the homicide and things could turn around
fast.
With a determined glint in my eye, I stood up and took one last look at
the body and the bloodstained wall. As I turned to leave the room, a small,
barely audible sound caught my attention. Was it the creak of a lifted-up
tile, or the whisper of a hidden witness, or even a fast getaway?
 The creak went unnoticed even when I rocked back and forth on it a few
times. No one even batted an eye. Not even Tucker Pyle.
"Looks like murder," I said, finally answering Colonel’s question.
"Gunshot wound.”
“You didn’t touch or see anything when you found him and Orlene?”
Tucker asked.
“I didn’t stick around to look,” I told them.
Colonel pointed me back to Colt.
Colonel’s new assistant had already started to move Colt’s body to a
gurney and began to start the process to cover the body with a sheet.
Colonel stepped up and stopped the process to talk into his tape
recorder.
Colonel pulled back the sheet, revealing Colt’s body.
"The victim was shot once in the chest," Colonel said. "The bullet
entered the left side of the chest and exited the right side. The cause of
death was a gunshot wound to the heart where he died instantly.”
"Instantly?" I asked.
"Yes," Colonel said. "The bullet would have caused massive internal
bleeding. He would have lost consciousness within seconds and died within
minutes."
"What time do you think he was killed?" I asked, again in my head
trying to place the time I’d seen Dottie.
"I'd say sometime between 9:00 and 10:00 this morning," Colonel said.
"Do you have any idea what kind of gun was used?" I asked.
Once again, Al snapped a finger and the deputy ran over with the
evidence bag. The bullet had found a home in the corner.
Colonel took the bag and instantly had an answer as soon as he laid his
eyes on the bullet.
"The bullet is a .38 caliber," Colonel said. "But I can't tell you what kind
of gun it came from. There are too many different types of .38 caliber guns
out there."
I knew there would be more clues from Colt’s body, possibly a struggle,
DNA, but this was all I had to go on for now.
Sobs took me out of my head.
“Orlene is a mess,” Al muttered.
“Did you ask her what happened?” I questioned him.
 “What do you mean?” He pulled out the notepad. “She said she saw him
lying there and screamed and that’s when you came in.”
“Did she give an alibi? Or did she have any conversation with him
lately since it was her who had tried to hire him to come to help her with
Otis?” It wasn’t like I was asking questions that shouldn’t’ve been already
asked.
“I’m giving her time to calm down.” Al shoved the notepad back into
the pocket of his brown sheriff’s jacket. The paper getting stuck on the
pocket flap made it crinkle up and slightly tear off the metal spiral.
“Time is of the most importance.” Tucker shifted his weight and pointed
to the gurney as the employees of the coroner’s office started to wheel him
out to put Colt into the hearse and off to the morgue where Colonel would
do a full autopsy.
“When the media hears that the most famous television bounty hunter
was murdered, they are going to flock to Normal.” Tucker really didn’t need
to say that out loud.
Al said something I never thought I’d hear from him after all the other
incidents we’d gone through. “And that’s why Mae is here. I asked her to
come over because she’s got that way of finding out stuff.”
“Stuff?” Colonel asked.
“Yeah, stuff. You know, murdery stuff and why people do this kind of
sick thing.” Al was such a man of words. I decided to finish it for him.
“I’m more than happy to help you figure this out, but you’ve got to let
me deal with Dottie.” I had stipulations.
Al harumphed.
“So really you want me to just find Dottie and bring her in. That’s why
you wanted me to come back here.” I crossed my arms and turned away to
look out the window as the crowd that’d formed was surrounding the
hearse.
“I guess someone heard it on the police scanner.” I shrugged and then
looked at the door when I saw someone cupping their hands against the
glass to peek in. “Look, there’s Betts, Queenie, and Abby now.”
Which meant if I was going to not only clear Dottie’s name but also find
out who killed Colt ahead of the media frenzy, I had to start now.
And I couldn’t do it alone.
It was time for a Laundry Club Ladies meeting.
CHAPTER 3

B etter known as the Laundry Club Ladies, Betts, Queenie, Abby,

Dottie, and I were a group of local business owners and women
who’d forged a friendship at the local laundromat Betts owned.
It would seem to be an unlikely place to gossip, hold book club, and
have coffee, but it was actually a nice place to do your laundry and visit
with friends.
Over the years our gossip and meddling has gotten us into situations
where the local police and rangers needed our expert skills in finding things
out to help them solve crimes.
What I’ve learned was how criminals or anyone associated with a crime
loved to talk about it without really talking about it by giving off little clues
here and there. That was where the Laundry Club Ladies were good at
taking those clues and seeing how they fit into the crime. Kinda like one of
the jigsaw puzzles at the puzzle station in the laundromat Betts kept out for
people who needed to bide time when they were there to do their laundry.
All the pieces ended up fitting together rather nicely after some
snooping around. Colt Lincoln’s death was no different, only Al wanted me
to turn in one of the Laundry Club Ladies.
Betts pressed her face to the glass, her eyes framed by her wavy brown
hair and bangs.
We turned to see them, and the three of them waved like they wanted to
come in.
“Oh my dear Orlene,” Betts said and rushed to Orlene’s side once we all
had taken a seat on one of the many couches at the laundromat. “Honey, is
there anything I can do?”
 Even though Orlene wasn’t involved with Colt, finding a body still
wasn’t what you’d call a positive life experience. To say it would affect you
was just words compared to what you felt inside, not even touching on the
mental side of not being able to get the images and even the “what if it was
you?” ideas out of your head.
Out of all of the Laundry Club Ladies, Betts was the kindest. She’d
dedicated most of her life to being a preacher’s wife and living the life of
serving others by holding prayer meetings and bible studies, going to the
prison to minister to the criminals, and even carrying out a list of good
deeds from her deceased, criminal, ex-preacher husband.
She was too much of a do-gooder for most people. And when she asked
Orlene if there was anything she could do, she meant it, though I also know
Betts would be using whatever information she’d gotten out of Orlene for
the good of our amateur investigation.
I still want to talk to her was the last words Al had said to me if I found
Dottie. Not if, when I found Dottie.
Also before I left the Smelly Dog to walk down with the Laundry Club
Ladies, minus Dottie, but add Orlene, I made sure Al knew if I agreed to
snoop around, I had access to what files I needed and could get those from
Agnes.
I had to be clear since Agnes Swift, my soon-to-be grandmother-in-law,
was dispatch for the sheriff’s department and keeper of all files. I never
wanted to get her in trouble, and getting Al’s permission instead of sneaking
around him to get the information was a much better way to snoop around.
He’d confirmed he’d let her know before I walked out of the groomer’s.
“Come on, Orlene, honey, you need to drink something.” Queenie
coaxed her with bottles of various products. Queenie’s headband slid down
on her forehead, and she pushed it back up to the edge of her short blond
hairline.
Orlene looked at Queenie with her big round eyes, and her chin moved
up and down, swinging her very high ponytail around in the air.
“I told Ethel he needed to leave,” she whispered.
“What does that mean?” Betts asked just as my phone vibrated with a
text from Hank.
Hank: Any updates?
Me: At the Laundry Club. Bring coffee. Lots.
 “When I first met Colt and he told us how he’d gotten my emails a
couple of months later about us needing his skills to find Otis, he said he’d
started to look into our area. He found an online dating profile, and it was
an excuse for him to come here to help. When he showed up, we’d already
gotten Otis freed.” She rambled on about the case that’d been put out of our
heads a long time ago. “He told me and Ethel he’d even found out from
Dottie about the campground and he bought his fifth wheel, but it wasn’t
just Dottie that brought him here.”
I was all ears.
“He said he was following a skip and it wasn’t just any skip. He was
here because this one was going to be his focus for the first episode of the
new season. Big money, he said. Big payday. Set for life.” Orlene’s brows
furrowed, the two lines between them deepening. “I told Ethel that he
needed to leave. There’s things out there nobody needs to ever know
about.”
I didn’t think by the way Orlene was talking that she knew what those
things were, but I did know there were a lot of place in the forest where
things did go unseen, people who were hiking and never heard from again.
I knew it was a cliché but truly if the trees could talk.
“He didn’t give any names?” I asked.
“No names, but he mentioned something about guns and shady
dealings.” Her answer was a little too vague for me to connect any dots.
“Any luck?” I asked Hank when he walked through the door of the
Laundry Club laundromat. My heart did a double flip just looking into those
sparkling green eyes.
He was carrying two cardboard coffee trays with four hot coffees in
each.
Chester ran in with him, eager to have any of the ladies pet him.
He sat them down on the coffee table in the middle of the three couches
off to the right inside of the laundromat where we were sitting.
“No. I think she’s in a state of shock.” I had gotten up off the floor
where I was sitting next to Abby as she wrote down the few details I’d
known about Colt’s murder.
Abby was our official secretary of our unofficial sleuth jobs. We kept a
spiral notebook with any and all clues we might find as well as any
suspects, and currently we only had one.
Dottie Swaggert.
 “Thank you for the coffee.” I ran my hand in his short black hair and
gave him a kiss. “Did I pull you away from anything serious?”
“Nah. Just the usual PI junk.” He smiled and bent down to kiss me.
“Any news from Dottie?”
“Not a word. I’ve been calling her phone, and it’s going straight to
voicemail. I did watch Colonel pick the curler up and put it in an evidence
bag, so I’m guessing they’ll get some fingerprints off of it.” I turned away
from the group so they didn’t hear me, and leaning into Hank, I whispered,
“Orlene mumbled something about how she told Ethel Colt needed to leave
town. She was just telling us he was chasing a very important skip.” I took a
sip of coffee. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“Is that my signal to leave?” He snorted and patted his leg. “Let’s go,
Chester!” he called.
Chester had taken a spot on his back next to Abby, enjoying the good
rub down she was giving his belly. His ears perked, and he hopped to his
four legs and met Hank at the door.
“Do you mind letting Fifi out when you get back to the campground?” I
asked as my phone buzzed.
“Yep,” Hank said and left the laundromat as I waved so I could get the
call.
“Henry.” I was so relieved when I got him on the line. “I’m sorry I
called so many times.”
“I was mowing around the lake,” he said through the other end. The
birds were chirping in the background, and along with voices from the
campers, the sound instantly took me back to Happy Trails Campground. I
wished I was there.
“Have you seen Dottie come back?” I asked.
“Nope.” His quick, one-word answer had enough power in it to tell me
they still weren’t on speaking terms.
“Colt Lincoln is dead.” My words were met with silence. “Henry?”
“Yeah I’m here.” The crunch of gravel under his feet made it sound like
he was hurrying down the road of the campground to look for a place out of
sight to talk. “You don’t reckon?”
“Don’t even think it.” He didn’t have to finish his sentence for me to
know he was going to ask if I thought Dottie had done it. “Though Colt was
clutching a pink sponge curler.”
 “Heck, I know a lot of women around here who use pink sponge
curlers.” Henry was going to protect Dottie at all costs.
“Did any of them have a romantic relationship with Colt?” I knew my
question was going to sting Henry in the heart, but I needed him to know
the urgency of finding Dottie.
Silence met me.
“Henry, Dottie needs to be found. Do you recall her saying anything?” I
asked.
“She don’t talk to me. She didn’t say a word. The last I seen her, she
was passing me in her car when I was pulling in this afternoon.” Henry had
always pretended he didn’t see and hear everything going on in the
campground, but as the groundskeeper, among other things, he saw it all.
“I’m at the Laundry Club with the gals, and we are going to do our best
to find out who killed him and find Dottie. Hank should be there soon, but
do you mind keeping an eye on the office?” I asked even though I knew
he’d do it.
Dottie and I both worked in the office. We switched on and off hours so
we could have some free time. The office was fine for now.
It was the beginning of the week, and all the campers had checked in.
Henry had filled their wood piles up so they had enough wood, and the
guests had my cell phone number in case they needed anything. Happy
Trails could practically run itself the rest of the week except for check-ins
and -outs, giving me a few days to find Dottie.
“I gotta go.” Henry hesitated. “Al Hemmer just pulled in.”
“I bet he wants to look inside of Dottie’s camper and Colt’s.” It didn’t
take him long. “Be sure he’s got a warrant to go into Dottie’s. Not that it
would take him long since Judge Hemmer is his uncle, but we need to buy
time as much as we can.”
“I’ll call you back.” Henry clicked off.
I put my phone back into my pocket and joined the others. Orlene was
still sitting there in a state of shock.
“Here’s what we’ve got so far.” Abby picked up the notebook off the
coffee table and stood up. She paced back and forth as she read off the
motives we had come up with as a starting list, though we knew by the end
of whatever we found out all of this would look different.
“Colt Lincoln came to town a few months after Orlene and Ethel had
reached out to him to come to Normal to help them solve the murder Otis
Gullett was wrapped up in.” Abby looked at all of us for come confirmation
as we all nodded behind our cups of coffee. “Colt had some inside
information about us, the Laundry Club Ladies, and soon after his own
investigation into us, he saw Dottie was on a dating website. He decided to
stay because of a skip that involved a lot of money.”
“Yes.” Orlene’s soft-spoken word sounded like a gong in our ears. We
all jerked around to look at her. The cardboard coffee cup was held up to
her lips. She took a sip. And then another.
Abby continued, “The skip was important because it was also going to
be the first episode of next year’s season.”
“Yes.” Orlene’s response was a little louder this time.
“It has to be a very important skip in order for him to want to make it
the season premiere.” It didn’t take a marketing genius to know the first
episode of any show was intended to be a knockout so it left the viewer
feeling like they had to watch the show. “Who was the skip? What did the
skip do for them to be important enough for Colt to not only follow them
here, but make them the feature of the first episode?”
“Orlene, you didn’t hear him come in the shop? You didn’t see him
before hand? Or hear the shot?” Abby asked a great question.
“I didn’t kill him!” Orlene jumped to her feet, coming out of her
comatose state. The hot coffee swished along the inside of the cup. “That’s
crazy! I’d never hurt a flea.”
Nervously, Queenie popped up from the other couch and started
bending at the waist before she started to do standing toe touches.
Something she did when she got anxious.
“There you are.” Betts waved a hand in front of Orlene’s face. “We
knew we could get you to come out.”
Betts gently guided Orlene back to sitting on the couch.
“I’m sorry. I’m not saying you did, but we had to do something to snap
you out of shock since we need answers. Colt Lincoln answers.” Abby sat
on her knees at Orlene’s feet and put her hands on Orlene’s thighs. “We
need to know every single detail. Did you talk to him? Why did he come to
the Smelly Dog?”
“There weren’t many clients today. I had one this morning. I locked the
door. I left out the back door and around the cottage, across the street to the
Cookie Crumble. I must’ve just missed Mae getting out of the car with
Chester because I went back around to the back of the shop and let myself
in, and that’s when I found Colt.”
“What time was this?” I asked knowing Al would want to know the
exact time for his timeline.
“Why didn’t you go to the Cookie Crumble from the front door of the
shop? Lock it from there?” Queenie asked.
“We don’t have a key to the front door. Not even Ethel. So we lock it
and just leave out the back of the shop,” Orlene said.
“Did you happen to get a look at the back door?” Betts asked me.
“No.” I shook my head. “But the front door of the shop was open.”
“How did Colt get in?” Abby tapped the end of the pen to her chin and
looked out into the distance.
“Beats me.” Orlene shrugged.
“Orlene.” I had a thought. “Are there any underground tunnels or
passages in the shop?”
Everyone stopped and looked at me like I had five heads.
“When I was looking at the bullet hole in the wall, I noticed there were
some loose tiles on the floor. If you didn’t unlock the front door and Ethel
wasn’t there to let him in, then somehow he figured out a way to get into
the Smelly Dog without anyone seeing him.” I looked around at my friends.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Queenie started to grapevine toward the door.
“I’ll be going to the historical society to see about any underground caves
and tunnels from the past. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
All of us brought different things to the table when it came to friendship
and scratching our sleuthing noggins’. Queenie was the president of the
Historical Society. She had her hand in anything going on around the
national park dealing with its history, and that included many underground
pathways and caves that were deemed a hazard and not ever used.
“Leave it up to Colt to use a cave or passageway that could cave in at
any moment,” I said and knew we had to find out how he got into the shop.
But I also knew going to see the shop to find out for myself was off-limits.
It was still an active crime scene, and no matter what, my first priority
was to find Dottie.
“Did Colt know Ethel was out of town?” Abby asked Orlene.
“He did.” She shook her head.
“He was using the shop. He knew about the tunnels, and he broke in
that way,” I said. “We just need Queenie to find the tunnel.”
 “And we better hurry too.” Abby took the time to look at each one of us.
“I put a google alert on Colt’s name, and there’s been some rumblings,
though not a lot on social about a possible murder and him tied to it. I’m not
sure where the information is coming from, but they did say they’ve
reached out to Colt’s agent to find out if he was okay.”
“Orlene.” I directed my statement to her. “You and Ethel worked with
Colt closely the last few weeks.”
She nodded, her lips turned down.
“Who skipped bail?” I was grasping at anything to help us get a clue to
a lead we could follow.
“I did find some things on the internet about him.” Abby had been
pulling up articles. “He was in court for someone who said he illegally used
their name for his show and they didn’t give him permission to do so.”
“That was already taken care of.” Orlene took a deep breath and another
sip of her coffee. “Colt had paid him a settlement, but he did say something
about someone named Terry.”
“Terry?” I asked so I could remember the name.
“Yes. He’s been chasing down a guy with the name Terry for like two
years or something. Big payday. He said he’d already gotten a little sum of
money and since he was coming south, following a motorcycle gang.”
“Motorcycle gang,” I said flatly as I recalled the images of the big
motorcycle riders who had rolled through town while I was at Trails Coffee
waiting for Al to finish up with Colt’s investigation and come talk to me.
“There was a motorcycle group. I’m not sure if they’re a gang, but they
drove through town right after Colt’s murder.”
“Then that’s them!” Orlene rose to life. “That’s who killed Colt. Has to
be.”
My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it out of my pocket.
“It’s Henry. I’ve got to get this because Al is at the campground and I’m
sure he wants to search Dottie’s camper and Colt’s.” I excused myself and
walked to the back right corner where we had our book club meetings.
“Hey, Henry, what’s up?” I asked and sat down in one of the folding chairs.
“You need to come to the campground. Al has a warrant for Dottie’s and
Colt’s campers, but someone already searched them without a warrant.” In
Henry’s own way, he was telling me someone had broken into the campers.
Someone who would have a motive to kill Colt and stop Dottie from
talking.
CHAPTER 4

A ll of us, including Orlene, piled into Betts’s old white van she used
for her side hustle cleaning jobs and drove to Happy Trails
Campground.
I didn’t want to let Orlene out of my sight, and I needed a ride back
home anyways since Hank had initially driven me to town where our coffee
date with him and his sister ended up with Colt’s death now in my hands.
Usually when I drove underneath the old wooden sign that read Happy
Trails Campground at this time of the early evening I’d get little tickles of
excitement in my stomach, not the feeling of nausea like I felt now.
The closer Betts drove up the gravel road to Happy Trails Campground,
the more struck I was by the gorgeous sunset. The sky was ablaze with hues
of pink, orange, and purple, and the sun was sinking slowly into the
horizon. The beauty of it all took my breath away.
But as we approached the campground, my excitement was tempered by
nervousness and anxiety. I couldn't help but feel on edge, wondering who
would break into Dottie’s and Colt’s campers.
“Do you think it’s the real killer?” Orlene asked with a cracked voice.
“I’m not sure why anyone would break into those two campers unless
they were looking for something,” I said.
“What would Colt have that Dottie would have?” Queenie asked and
looked out the passenger window up front with Betts where Dottie always
road shotgun.
“Maybe he gave her something to hold on to and possibly the reason he
was killed.” Betts drove slow past the office, which was on the left and
before Dottie’s camper on the right.
The stunning views of the towering trees and the distant mountains. The
peaceful surroundings should have made tonight an idyllic camping night,
but the knowledge that someone had committed a crime here made the
scene feel eerie and unsettling.
I couldn’t help but think that the contrast of the beautiful sunset and the
unsettling news created a sense of tension and mystery that left me eager to
solve the case.
I was determined to get to the bottom of what happened at Happy Trails
Campground and find out who was responsible for the break-ins and Colt’s
murder.
Betts brought the van to a halt between the office and the storage units,
blocking the gravel road leading in and out of the campground. Tucker
Pyle’s and Al Hemmer’s cruisers were parked along the lake, in the grass,
halfway between Dottie’s camper and the lot Colt had rented, which was
way down at the other end of the campground.
“Where do you want me to park?” Betts asked.
“You can pull into one of the office parking spots.” I leaned around
Queenie’s head so I could see down the campground, where I saw Hank
talking to Tucker.
Hank had been a Ranger a few years ago, which gave Tucker the
opening to fill. They had the same lingo and knowledge of not only the
inner workings of the Ranger’s way of investigating, but the layout of the
entire forest. That in itself was a huge job.
As soon as Betts put the van in park, Abby shoved open the sliding van
door and we all jumped out. Queenie led the charge, since she was a
Jazzercise instructor, and we tried to keep up with her speed walking going
toward Al, Hank, and Tucker.
We quickly joined the group, eager to hear any updates on the break-ins.

Tucker filled us in on the details, explaining that both campers had been
ransacked and that they were looking for any leads. Sheriff Hemmer nodded
in agreement.
“Still no sign of Dottie?” I asked.
“Nope. I was hoping you had something.” Al rocked back on the heels
of his shoes.
 “I did remember Colt telling me and Ethel about how he was chasing
after a skip and had received partial payment,” Orlene spoke up. “I think
he’s been tracking him for a couple of years.”
The darkness had started to curl around us, so I went to poke Orlene
with my fingernail to tell her to stop talking, but the loud eep she squeaked
out made everyone look at her.
“Mae, that hurt.” She rubbed the upper part of her arm where I’d poked
a little fat.
“What?” I snorted and looked around. “I didn’t do anything. It could’ve
been a no-see-um.”
I referred to the pesky little biting bugs that you really didn’t see until it
was too late and your skin was eaten up with them.
Orlene was going to have to be told how we needed some leads that Al
didn’t have because we had to find Dottie even though Al had given me the
okay to find her first.
I didn’t trust Al Hemmer.
As night fell, the forest came alive with the sounds of the wilderness. I
could hear the hooting of owls, the rustling of leaves, and the occasional
snap of a twig as the many flashlights of the deputies searched the edge of
the woods and around Dottie’s and Colt’s campers to see if there was any
sort of evidence.
“What about the security cameras?” Al asked.
“They don’t work,” Henry chimed in. His hair was awry tonight as he
continued to fiddle with it before he stuck his hands in the pockets of his
overalls.
“I thought you got those fixed?” Hank asked me.
“It’s on the list of things that need to be done around here, but we’ve
been busy trying to get everything open for the upcoming summer season.”
It technically wasn’t a lie that I’d told Hank, but it certainly wasn’t the full
truth.
Rarely did we have any sort of crime in the campground. There were
too many eyes around for someone not to witness something, which made
me wonder. With all the people sitting outside now and during daylight
when these break-ins occurred, someone had to have seen or heard
something.
“Why on earth would you have them if they aren’t working?” Al asked.
 “I reckon if someone sees them, it will make them think twice ’bout
doing somethin’. I guess that didn’t work this time.” Henry grinned,
exposing the gap between his two front teeth. “Have y’all heard from
Dottie?”
“Not a word.” Betts’s voice fell off, and she shook her head. “We were
hoping you had.”
“Nah. If she was hog-tied and mouth stuffed like an olive, I’d be the last
person she’d call.” Henry and Dottie had been on the outs for some time
now.
He was probably right. He’d be the last person she’d call if she were in
trouble.
“The last time I seen her was earlier this afternoon when she was
driving out of the campground.” He ended up giving Al his statement while
I glanced around the campground.
There were spots of orange and red flames flickering in the air from the
firepits in front of the guests’ campers.
It was beautiful and eerie at the same time, and I couldn't help but feel a
sense of unease as I looked at them gathered around their campfires. The
sound of laughter and chatter filled the air, but the underlying tension I felt
deep inside made my hands start to shake.
“Are you okay?” Hank had walked up to stand next to me. “I can see
that look on your face.”
“Even in the darkness?” The edges of my lips ticked up a nervous and
fake smile.
“Especially in the light of the moon.” He ran a finger down my cheek
and pushed the strand of hair off of my face. “We will find her.”
“I know, but I can’t help but fear she’s in danger now that someone
broke in.” My nose flared as it sucked in the fresh air of the warm night.
These deep and long breaths normally helped to soothe my soul.
Normally.
Not tonight.
“Dottie has to be in possession of something the killer wants.” My eyes
shifted to see if anyone was paying a bit of attention to us. I touched Hank’s
arm and gestured with a nod for us to step away.
“Think about it.” I had this theory brewing in my head. “Dottie left
before us. “When we were here, there’d not been any sort of break-in at her
place or we’d know. So we drove Chester to the Smelly Dog. The killer
could’ve killed Colt, passed us on the way there, driven to the campground,
and ransacked the campers.”
“The killer had to have known about Dottie and Colt in order for them
to have broken into Dottie’s camper.” Hank added a good point.
“Which means the killer had knowledge of Colt’s relationship with
Dottie.” I used the word “relationship” very lightly.
“Then we need the time of death for sure from Colonel to make sure
Dottie didn’t have time to drive from here to there, kill Colt, and then head
out of town,” Hank suggested.
The sound of shuffling coming toward us made me and Hank turn
around to face Al.
“We’ve searched both campers. Initially we’d come here to search
Dottie’s and Colt’s campers for evidence. We didn’t find anything in Colt’s
place or Dottie’s.” Al stuck his sheriff’s hat back on his head. “I’m afraid
we need to come back in the morning when it’s light out.”
“That’s fine.” I nodded.
“We put up police tape on both campers. Do not go in there.” Al stared
at me from underneath his brows and made a gesture with one finger like he
was a principal calling me out.
“I won’t.” My stomach lurched at the lie. Going into those campers as
soon as he and Tucker pulled out of the campground was the first thing I
was going to do.
“Do you mind giving me a ride home?” Orlene asked Al. “I would call
Otis, but we broke up. He said I was spending too much time with the big
bounty hunter star.” She looked down at her phone.
“I’m sorry, Orlene.” I’d not even taken the time to ask her about her
relationship with Otis. “I hate to hear that.”
“It’s alright. He’s too busy writing songs for Blue Ethel and the
Adolescent Farm Boys to even have a real relationship like you two.” She
wagged a finger between me and Hank. “That’s Ethel texting. She said what
you think is a tunnel is really an old cellar where they kept ice back in the
olden days.”
“Well, there goes my theory on how the killer got into Smelly Dog.” I
sighed and caught Al gesturing for Orlene to follow him to his cruiser.
Betts, Abby, Queenie, Hank, Henry, and I slowly started to walk up
toward the office so we could escort them to Betts’s van.
 “Speaking of us two.” Hank put his arm around me and snugged me to
him, walking in step with me. “Bobby Ray and Abby are hosting a camping
couple’s shower here for us.”
“That’s right. We were hoping to get the invites out by now, but with
this happening, I’m not sure we should have it here.” Abby frowned. “We
were hoping everyone could just show up this weekend.”
In most cases it took a lot of time and planning for what some people
would consider a couple’s shower, but around here everyone showed up all
the time and we had a monthly party hosted by Happy Trails Campground
for not just the campers but for the entire community of Normal.
This weekend we were hosting a progressive supper-style event, and
Abby had the great idea that since the entire town was already coming, she
and Bobby Ray would get Christine Watson from the Cookie Crumble to
bake us a big cake. It was a “two birds with one stone” kinda deal.
Sending out invites was unnecessary. Plus we’d requested no gifts.
“Are you joking?” I asked. “Dottie would be heartbroken after all the
work she’s put in the last few weeks making Dollie hearts.”
“You knew?” Betts’s eyes grew bigger than the moon.
“Dottie? Keep a secret?” I laughed then stopped.
“What?” Betts asked since she’d visibly noticed the difference in my
tone when I knew Dottie had a secret.
“Dottie left because she had a secret and she didn’t want us to know.” I
gnawed my lip, and my brows dipped as the lines between my eyes
deepened. “What was it?”
“She keeled the man,” Henry blurted out.
“She didn’t kill anyone.” My head jerked back and swung over my
shoulder to give Henry the eye.
“She nearly killed me by dating him.” Henry held his hands to his heart.
“If you love her, you need to help us find her,” I told him.
“What’s going on for tomorrow?” Queenie asked. “I have two
Jazzercise classes to teach, but other than that I’m all about finding Dottie.”
“I can get the autopsy report from Colonel.” Hank stepped up to help us.
“I have to work at the library in the morning, but I can research Colt and
see what cases he was hunting down. Maybe something about a one- or
two-year-old skip he’s been chasing could pop up.”
Abby made a great suggestion. As the head librarian, she had so many
resources at her fingertips.
 “I can do whatever.” Betts opened the van door to climb into the
driver’s seat.
“Why don’t we all meet at the Laundry Club for lunch and discuss what
we all found out.” I watched them all nod their heads in agreement before
they disappeared in the van and drove off.
“I’m going to drive around the campground one last time to make sure
everyone’s okay.” Henry got into the campground’s golf cart. “Let me know
if you need anything.”
We said our goodnights.
“You good?” Hank asked. Both of us stood next to the office until the
van’s taillights had faded out of sight.
“No. I don’t think Dottie is in danger, but I do think she’s gone into
hiding. I’m not sure if I believe she knows something or just needed a little
time away.” My words caught on a breeze as it floated by, sending chills
along my forearms and landing on my neck.
“Let’s try to get a good night sleep and maybe see things with fresh eyes
in the morning.” Hank grasped my hand and we walked back toward our
campers.
“It’s been a long day.” My eyes were heavy with not only worry but the
fact there’d been a crime right here in my backyard. My business.
The sound of crunching gravel underneath our feet echoed into the night
but didn’t cover up all the thoughts and theories swirling around in my
head.
“Coffee in the morning?” Hank asked stopping at my camper door.
“I’d love that.” I rolled up on my toes and kissed him goodnight before I
walked into my camper, leaving him to go to his. “There’s my baby,” I said
to Fifi, my little poodle, as she danced in delight. “Let’s go potty.”
I reached over to the basket next to the door and grabbed her leash. Fifi
wiggled around, sitting briefly to let me clip it on her collar. She knew she
couldn’t go outside at night without a leash. There were creatures out in the
forest who would love to have a midnight snack called Fifi, and I wasn’t
about to let that happen.
I even grabbed a lightweight jacket, though the temperatures didn’t
require it. The chill deep in my bones made me feel cold.
I’d decided to take the long way around the lake since Fifi had pretty
much been cooped up all day long other than Henry letting her out for me a
few times. I wasn’t tired, and neither was she. The night air would do my
mixed-up head good.
As the night deepened around us, the once-tranquil atmosphere of the
Daniel Boone National Forest started to change. I couldn't quite put my
finger on it, but an unsettling feeling crept over me, making the hairs on the
back of my neck stand on end. There was something wicked lurking in the
shadows, something that didn't belong in this serene haven.
Maybe it was the idea of Dottie missing. Or maybe it was the fact we’d
just walked past Colt’s camper. The police line waved in the breeze. I
wasn’t sure.
“Come on, Fifi,” I tugged a little harder on her leash to keep her from
sniffing every little blade of grass.
She darted off toward the woods between a couple of the bungalows
before the full extension on the leash stopped her. Instead of giving in and
coming back, she took the opportunity to smell some more.
I stood there taking in the shadows of the trees. Once a source of
comfort and beauty, now they seemed to close in around me like menacing
sentinels. Their branches, gnarled and twisted, reached out as if to grasp at
my very soul. The darkness beneath the thick canopy of leaves seemed to
swallow up the scant moonlight, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor.
“Come on, girl.” I tugged again, but she resisted. My ears were on high
alert for the laughing of any coyotes that could easily run faster than I could
retrieve the leash from its full capacity.
The cheerful chirping of birds and chattering of woodland creatures had
ceased entirely, replaced by an oppressive silence that weighed heavily on
my chest. It felt as if even the animals could sense the malevolence that
now permeated the air. Even Fifi looked up toward the woods.
“It’s time to go.” I pulled my jacket tighter around me, shivering despite
the unseasonable warmth of the evening. The air itself seemed to thicken,
carrying with it a heavy, almost tangible sense of dread. It was as though
the forest was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen.
I gulped and could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breath
coming in short, shallow gasps as I fought the overwhelming urge to turn
and flee back to my camper.
“You’re being silly,” I told myself and gave Fifi one last tug.
She yelped, not from the tug but from something between the
bungalows that had gotten her attention.
 My mind was swirling with images of Dottie and what sort of mess
she’d gotten herself into and why she’d flee. With each step to see what she
was barking at, darkness had taken root as the thoughts got even crazier,
and it was up to me to untangle the twisted threads of this mystery and
bring the truth to light.
Then suddenly, as if it was on fire, a flicker of something red caught my
eye and Fifi’s. She had just enough give of the leash since I’d gotten closer
to her to run over to see what was there.
It was then that I spotted something peculiar. A bright-red tassel lay by
the side of the drive between the bungalows. It was partly hidden in the
gravel. Fifi sniffed and sniffed at it.
My curiosity piqued, I bent down to pick it up, examining it closely. It
was a tassel, alright, and it seemed to have been detached from something
else. My fingers ran along the soft leather, and that's when it hit me—this
was from a motorcycle bag!
Quickly I picked up both it and Fifi and walked back to the road that led
around the campground so we weren’t in the shadows of the darkness.
My eyes scanned down the campground to see if there were any guests
who’d towed a motorcycle since I’d not recalled seeing or hearing a
motorcycle in or around Happy Trails.
I did recall seeing a motorcycle gang passing through town earlier in the
day. The roaring engines and squealing tires of their motorcycles had
disrupted the usual calm of Trails Coffee. It seemed too much of a
coincidence to ignore.
Fifi squirmed in my arms, and I put her down.
As I turned the tassel over in my hands, I couldn't help but wonder if it
held any significance. It seemed out of place, discarded here.
I glanced back at Colt’s camper and wondered if he was trailing
someone from the motorcycle gang. Or was it merely a coincidence?
Not a chance.
CHAPTER 5

A s I strolled along the gravel road leading away from the bustling
campground, the scent of pine and campfire smoke filled the air. I
was no stranger to solving mysteries, but this wasn’t supposed to be
happening.
A murder.
Being in the final stages of planning my wedding, I had promised
myself that I would take a break from my sleuthing ways and enjoy the
process of planning my perfect day. I couldn’t say how every girl wants her
wedding day to be because this would be my second wedding, but I could
say that I’d planned on taking time to really enjoy the process of all the
things since my first wedding was a quickie.
Add into the planning process Mary Elizabeth, my foster-adopted
mama, who sees this as a huge milestone in not only my life, but her life as
well.
A good southern wedding was a reflection on how Mary Elizabeth
raised me, so when I ran off the first time and she wasn’t there, I’d heard,
though I’d not originally been privy to it, how she’d sent out her own
apology letter to our hometown friends and family about my behavior.
It was only hearsay, but hearsay was taken as seriously as the Bible in
the south.
“No, no,” I told Fifi on our way back to our camper as we passed Colt’s
fifth wheel. “We can’t go under the tape.”
Fifi had a mind of her own, and tonight’s walk before bed was no
different. She insisted on going to smell out Colt’s fifth wheel and what
forest creatures had been there.
 “Fine.” I gave in only because she continued to tug and pull. The last
thing I needed was a bruised neck or something where she’d need to go to
the hospital.
I tucked the tassel inside of my jacket pocket and used the flashlight on
my phone to light up the wheels of his camper where Fifi had found
interest. Plus the camper was nestled in the far-right corner of the
campground in a spot we rarely used because it was so secluded.
It was perfect for Colt.
Fifi tugged me around to the side where the door to the camper was
located. I flashed the phone toward the door and saw the lock was in the
unlock position.
“Surely Al locked it or at least attempted to.” I put my hand on the
metal lever of the door and slightly pulled to make sure, but the darn door
popped open. “Great,” I muttered, and Fifi stood up on her back legs, her
front paws on the metal step. “You want us to go inside?”
Fifi’s backend shook, excited.
I sighed and looked back to see if anyone was around to notice if I did
go inside.
Fifi jumped her little furry body up on the step.
“Only because you want to. Who am I to deprive you of a good sniff
walk?” I asked and slightly opened the door, peeking an eye inside.
Fifi ran inside, the leash still attached.
The fifth wheel was cozy with its plush leather seats, a small kitchen,
and a queen-size bed in the back. My attention was immediately drawn to a
large trophy rack on the wall, adorned with the heads of various big game
animals. Colt was a hunter, not just a bounty hunter.
Moving to the small desk, I held my phone’s flashlight so I could see to
begin rifling through the papers and files that whoever had broken in had
strewn all over the top. A small amount of powder residue from the
fingerprinting kits covered the files.
Colt was meticulous, and each file had been labeled with the perp’s
name he’d been either hunting or hunted.
“How awful it must be to have become the hunted,” I muttered and
started to open the files to see if anything caught my attention.
It wasn't long before I found what I was looking for—a thick manila
envelope with the name in bold letters.
“Terry Simmons,” I said and wondered if I should open it.
 It was times like this that I was starting to question my morality
regarding when I could and couldn’t enter a camper on my property. To take
it even further, the snooping I was doing was clearly going over the line. Or
was it?
Technically if someone caught me, I could use the contract between the
campground and the guest that states I could enter at an emergency. The one
the guest signs during the reservation process, which no one and I mean no
one reads the fine print of before they check the box that they did read it.
In that fine print it states I can enter a camper at any time during an
emergency.
This qualified as an emergency in my eyes.
Then there was the second reason, that made me think Al and his
deputies had not only fingerprinted the files, but had also gone through
them. It was possible Al knew more than I did and when they saw the name
on the file, it wasn’t of interest to them.
It’d become even more of an interest to me when I saw the photo of the
man and the motorcycle he was sitting on.
“Is that?” I stopped and moved the flashlight on the leather saddlebag of
the motorcycle where there were red tassels hanging from the snaps. “It is,”
I gasped then closed the file and quickly shut the phone flashlight off.
With the file tight to my chest, I clicked my tongue at Fifi where she’d
lain down by my feet.
Instead of pushing the camper door to close and creating the snapping
sound the door latch would make, I held the metal lever open and closed the
door, pushing my body weight up against it so when I released the lever, it
would catch the lock and wouldn’t echo out in case someone was around.
“I’m sorry, but we have to hurry.” I bent down and picked up Fifi,
apologizing to her for not letting her finish her nightly before-bed sniff walk
and hurried up the campground.
For a minute I thought about stopping at Hank’s camper to show him
the file and the tassel I’d found, but his camper was dark. Not even the
flicker of the television he usually watched before he fell asleep.
Inside of my drivable camper, I unclipped Fifi’s leash and threw it back
in the basket by the door along with my jacket. My nerves were shot, and I
was going to need something a little stronger than coffee. I opened the mini-
refrigerator and pulled out one of Hank’s beers.
 Pssshhh came the beer’s distinct sound as the carbonation hissed when I
popped open the tab.
I grabbed my bag from the loveseat on my way to the small café table,
where I sat the can down and took a seat in one of the two chairs.
“What are we going to find out about you, Terry?” I asked. “It’s no
coincidence there was a motorcycle group driving through on the day Colt
was killed, and there’s the fact he’d been tracking a motorcycle group.” I
opened the file.
Carefully I read through Colt’s file on Terry Simmons.
I sighed, realizing that my vacation might have to wait. I had a hunch
that this tassel could lead to something much bigger. My sleuthing instincts
had been triggered, and there was no turning back now.
A lot of the initial pages were legal papers Colt had filed with the state
and the town where Terry was wanted.
Then there was the paper where Colt had bonded him out.
“Why would Terry use Colt?” I wondered and flipped the page.
“Oh, he was double-dipping.” The next paper was from the state where
Terry was wanted on charges of running a major drug ring and
responsibility for a number of high-profile robberies and other crimes.
The state’s payoff was huge for capturing him, with millions of dollars
at stake for Colt compared to the small amount he was being paid for Terry.
Did the state know Colt was hired by Terry when he was caught to bond
him out? Was this legal?
There’s no way Colt didn’t think this wasn’t right.
I reached down into my bag and got the notebook from earlier today
where Abby had used it at the Laundry Club to write in all the details we
thought we were going to get from Orlene.
“This is much bigger than just Dottie.” I shivered just saying it out loud.
I continued to flip through the file and saw where Colt had been making
notes along the way as he was tracking down Terry.
The more I dug the more information added up making it apparent that
this had to do with money.
“Wait.” I scanned a piece of paper with a receipt attached to it.
Colt had apparently been promised half of the money up front. I couldn't
believe that someone would offer such a large sum for one man’s capture.
Was this the same skip Orlene had mentioned when she said Colt had said
something about upfront cash, a two-year chase, and motorcycles?
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
lentonsa ja liukui liikkumatta alaspäin nopean vauhdin synnyttämän
ilmanhengen suhistessa sen jäykissä sulissa, litteä, julma pää
ojennettuna alaspäin ikäänkuin valmiina iskemään. Kiilan pitempi
sivu lyheni vähän, kun takanapäin lentävistä linnuista jotkut
levottomina vetäytyivät kumppaneitaan lähemmäksi. Mutta johtaja ja
muut vanhemmat linnut eivät kiinnittäneet uhkaukseen mitään
huomiota, käänsivät vain lennossaan vakaan, tarkkaavan katseen
ylöspäin.

Muutaman hetken perästä ja ilman näennäistä ponnistusta tuo

mainio rosvo kiiti joutsenparvesta edelle. Kahdessa minuutissa se oli
saavuttanut matkaavat hanhet. Hyökäten perimmäisen kimppuun se
tarttui tämän kurotettuun kaulaan voimakkailla kynsillään ja melkein
repi siltä kurkun auki. Mutta se oli liian raskas lintu ilmassa
kannatettavaksi, ja haukka, piestyään vimmatusti suvillaan hetken tai
pari, päästi sen, putoamaan. Siivet levällään se syöksyi alas tehden
useita kuperkeikkoja ilmassa, kunnes raskaalla ryskeellä saapui
tuuhean vanhan seetripuun latvaan. Iso haukka, vedettyään siipensä
puoleksi kokoon, putosi raskaana kuin kivi sen perässä ja tarttui
lujasti siihen kynsillään sinä hetkenä kun se kosketti puun oksia.
Taajaan hakaten siivillään se johti saaliinsa oksalle, missä saattoi
sitä rauhassa nauttia. Joutsenet lentäessään yli tuon
taistelunäyttämön tuijottivat alaspäin kylmäkiskoisin katsein.

Pian läpäistyään ruokoviljelysten, petäjäkankaiden ja

sypressisoiden vyöhykkeet ne lensivät yli Tennesseen vuorten
jylhien, luoksepääsemättömien harjanteiden ja joutuivat villien
vuoristolaisten pyssynkantaman piiriin. Kolme ne menettivät
parvestaan tällä vaarallisella taipaleella, mutta johtaja joudutti toiset
eteenpäin antamatta järjestyksen häiriytyä. Muutaman
silmänräpäyksen seisaus tuli kuitenkin, kun muuan voimakas lintu
lähellä kiilan kärkeä saatuaan kuolinhaavansa kamppaili vimmatusti
pysyäkseen matkassa. Vielä hetki, ja se syöksyi alas; rivi sulkeutui
jälleen.

Mutta nyt ei taivas joutsenten yläpuolella enää ollutkaan niin

säteilevän sininen, vaan useammin yksitoikkoisen harmaa tai
mustista, tuulenrepelemistä pilvistä synkkä. Lintuja kohtasivat jäiset
sadekuurot ja ne hillittömät myrskyt, jotka pyrkivät karkoittamaan
pohjolan arkailevan kevään ensi sanansaattajat. Virrat, jotka niiden
alapuolella kohisten kiiruhtivat eteenpäin, olivat kylmät ja tulvillaan,
liejusta sameat. Niin kauaksi, kuin silmä kantoi, ja vielä
etäämmällekin ulottui laajoja tasankoja, mutta ne olivat omituisen
täplikkäitä harmaista, sulavista lumikinosten jätteistä. Pian hävisivät
ruskeat, paljaat kohdat, ja kaikkialla oli vain lunta, valkoista, rajatonta
‒ siellä täällä vain sysimustia, vyöryviä vesiä jää- ja hirsilauttoineen
ja tummanvihreätä raivaamatonta kuusimetsää. Joutsenet tuskin
huomasivatkaan etäällä toisistaan olevia kaupunkeja, joiden yli
välistä lensivät, paitsi milloin oli ilta ja kaupunki suurenpuoleinen.
Silloin veti kauaksiheijastuva valomeri ne aina puoleensa, ja
nuoremmat linnut osoittivat halua laskeutua alas tutkimuksille, mutta
johtaja ehkäisi sen aina jyrkästi ja vei parvensa joskus entistä
korkeammalle.

Matkaten näin päivä päivältä yhä karumpia maita ja synkempää

taivasta kohti ne vihdoin saapuivat noille tuulensuojattomille,
uskomattoman alastomille kangasmaille, jotka ulottuvat pitkin
Hudson-lahden koillisrannikkoa. Sokaisevassa lumimyrskyssä ne
tulivat pienelle järvelle, joka oli muutaman penikulman päässä
merenrannasta ja joka oli ollut johtajajoutsenen päämääränä siitä
asti, kun oli lähdetty Floridan aurinkoisilta lahdekkeilta. Mutta se oli
liian rohkeasti ennättänyt hidastelevan kevään edelle, eikä tuo pieni
järvi vielä ollut avoinna.

Kierreltyään sen yläpuolella päästäen äänekkäitä pettymyksen

huutoja, joutsenet lensivät eteenpäin seuraten matalaa, vallatonta
virtaa, joka pulppusi esiin jään alta ja laski mutaisten, aaltojen
jäytämien jäälaikkojen keskelle, jotka reunustivat lahden rantamia.

Melkein kolmen viikon ajan parvi pysytteli koossa noilla

rantavesillä. Sen turvapaikkana oli kapea, matala lahti, jossa kokoon
ajautuneet jäälautat sitä jonkun verran suojasivat purevilta tuulilta.
Täällä oli ruokaa runsaasti, joten joutsenet jaksoivat hyvin, vaikka
rauhattomina odottelivat pesimismahdollisuutta.

Koska tuuli kävi rannalta poispäin, oli vesi kasautuneiden jäiden

takana kohtalaisen tyyntä. Täällä joutsenet nukkuivat keinuen hiljaa
laineilla. Täällä ne olivat enimmäkseen turvassa kaikilta vihollisilta.
Mutta eräänä yönä, kun tuo aavemainen, kalpea parvi nukkui
himmeänvarjoisilla vesillä, tuli toinenkin vaalea olento ääneti liikkuen
kuin savu veden reunalle ja pysähtyi sulloutuneiden jäälauttain
keskelle. Liikkumatta se silmäili nukkuvia joutsenia. Sitten vetäytyen
varovasti taaksepäin se laskeutui veteen noin viidenkymmenen
yardin [1 yardi = 0,914 m. Suom.] päässä, ui rannasta ulommaksi
ehkä toiset viisikymmentä yardia ja lähestyi nukkujia mereltä päin,
siltä puolelta, mistä nämä vähimmin odottivat hyökkäystä. Uiden niin
syvällä, että vain terävä musta kuono näkyi vedenpinnan yläpuolella,
tuo vaaniva olento pääsi arvaamatta, varoituksetta joutsenten likelle.
Kohoten nyt puolella pituudellaan vedestä esille se tarttui yhtä
nukkujista niskaan ja tappoi sen yhdellä ainoalla murhaavalla
ravistuksella.
 Silmänräpäyksessä joutsenlauma oli täysin hereillä ja lennähti
ilmaan päästäen hurjia säikähdyskirkaisuja, sillä välin kun iso
valkoinen karhu roiski rantaan päin voittosaaliineen. Joutsenet
lensivät ulos merelle, kohosivat huimaavaan korkeuteen ja kiertelivät
melkein tunnin kalpeassa aamuhämärässä, ennenkuin taas
tyyntyivät. Sitten ne äänettöminä laskeutuivat jälleen maahan joka
silmä valppaana ja asettuivat uudelleen lahdelle parinsadan yardin
päähän vanhalta lepopaikaltaan. Vielä puolisen tuntia ne
uiskentelivat pää pystyssä tarkastellen joka jäälauttaa, jokaisen
loiskivan aaltosen harjaa. Tämän jälkeen, niin kauan kuin parvi
pysytteli yhdessä, se ei koskaan nukkunut, jollei valvomassa ollut
joku uneton vahti.

Noin viikkoa myöhemmin tapahtui muutos ‒ muutos niin äkillinen,

että se yhdessä yössä karkoitti kaikki talven jäätävät voimat. Kevät,
niin kauan kahlehdittu, tuli kuin lempeä, vieno tuulahdus. Eivät enää
tuulet ulvoneet ja aallot raivonneet ulkokareilla, vaan lauhat
tuulenhenget toivat lionneen sammaleen tuoksua, ja aavat, hiljaiset
vedet kimaltelivat aution, mutta tyvenen taivaan alla. Pitkiä,
pilvettömiä päiväkausia aurinko tuhlaillen loi valoaan, lumi pakeni
kuin haihtuva usva, ja jää murtui hopeahelähteisin ryskein ja
soinnuin vaipuen jälleen aaltoihin, jotka sen olivat synnyttäneetkin.
Vihreä, korkea, hento, sanomattoman hellä humaus pyyhkäisi
yhtenä päivänä yli rajattomien, autioiden suomaiden. Vielä päivä, ja
tuo vihreys kimalteli täynnä kukkia.

Joutsenparvi oli heti hajaantunut lentäen parittain yksinäisiin

pesimäpaikkoihinsa. Johtajalla ja sen kumppanilla ei ollut pitkää
matkaa kuljettavana, sillä niiden piilopaikka oli jo katsottuna. Useita
vuosia ne olivat pitäneet hallussaan pientä saarta läheisessä
järvessä, minkä soiset rannat tarjosivat niille turvan enimmiltä
vihollisilta. Talven tuulet tietysti aina tuhosivat niiden pesän, mutta ne
ryhtyivät mielellään uutta rakentamaan.

Pikku saari ei ollut kuin kourallinen sammalta ja pajupensaikkoa,

joka oli tarttunut rosoiseen kariin, ja kohosi vain jalan verran
järvenpintaa ylemmäksi. Joutsenpari työskenteli yhdessä ‒ komea
koiras yhtä uutterana urakassaan kuin kumppaninsakin ‒ ja kokosi
kuivia risuja ja oksia kaikkialta järven rannoilta laahaten ne väkevillä
nokillaan esille rämeistä, minne myrsky ne oli ajanut. Ne kutoivat
lujan perustuksen ja rakensivat pesän kolmatta jalkaa korkean, jotta
sen kallisarvoinen sisällys säilyisi kaikilta tulvavesiltä.

Tuskin oli pesä valmis, kun jo emälintu alkoi munia sisustaen

samalla pesän runsaasti untuvilla. Munat olivat suuria,
tummanvärisiä, hyvinkin kaksitoista tuumaa ympärimitaten
pitemmältä puolelta, pinta himmeän säämiskän kaltaista. Kun niitä oli
kuusi, joutsenilla tavallinen määrä, alkoi se hautoa.

Tähän pitkälliseen, vaivaloiseen työhön ei koiraslintu ottanut osaa.

Tämä ei kuitenkaan johtunut sen puuttuvasta harrastuksesta.
Lakkaamatta se oli vieressä valvomassa ja aina uskollinen
huomaavaisuudessaan kovasti puuhaavaa kumppaniaan kohtaan.
Koskaan se ei ruokaretkilläänkään eksynyt pesästä kauas. Aina, kun
emälintu tuli syömään, pysytteli toinen pesän vieressä munia
vartioimassa. Jos silloin jokin utelias lokki ohilentäessään ahnaasti
tähysti pesän houkuttelevia palloja, kohotti joutsen uhkaavana
siipiänsä ja hätyytti sen pois vimmatulla, sotaisella rähinällä.

Viikon, parin aikana tämä lakkaamaton vartioiminen ei kuitenkaan

kysynyt muuta kuin kärsivällisyyttä. Mikään todellinen vaara ei
uhannut. Suolla, noin puolen penikulman päässä, pesi pariskunta
pohjolan suuria harmaan ja valkean kirjavia tunturipöllöjä, melkein
kotkan kokoisia ja paljon julmempia. Näitä kamalia rosvoja ei
joutsenten pesä kuitenkaan toistaiseksi vetänyt puoleensa. Ne eivät
kuten lokit himoinneet munia, ja vain kalvavin nälkä olisi kyennyt
ajamaan ne voimainkoetteluun saaripesän varjelijoiden mahtavien
siipien ja nokkien kanssa. Kun munista kehittyisi joutsenenpoikasia,
silloin kenties pesä alkaisi miellyttää pöllöjäkin; toistaiseksi ne eivät
koskaan tulleet kyllin lähelle houkutellakseen edes varoitushuutoa
valppaalta vartijalta.

Paitsi pöllöjä tuolla suolla eleli kärppiä, muutama näätä ja

runsaasti pohjoisessa eläviä pieniä sinikettuja sekä jokunen isompaa
ja paljoa vaarallisempaa punaista ketturotua. Mutta mikään näistä ei
päässyt pesälle muutoin kuin uiden, ja joutsenet tiesivät, ettei näistä
pedoista ainoakaan, jollei kenties jokin kovin uskalikko punainen
kettu, huolisi lähestyä saarta, niin kauan kuin jompikumpi sen
haltijoista oli lähettyvillä. Susia ei tarvinnut pelätä, sillä ne inhosivat
näitä järven puoleksi uiskentelevia rantamia ja olivat sitäpaitsi
seuranneet kulkuriporon jälkiä kaukaisille seuduille. Iso harmaa ilves
tosin näkyi silloin tällöin varovasti hiiviskelemässä suon kuivempia
kohtia, ja joskus se pysähtyi nälkäisenä veden yli kiiluilemaan pesän
juhlallista valkoista vartijaa. Mutta joutsenet tiesivät, että tähän
vuodenaikaan, kun riistaa oli runsaasti, ei ilveksenkään ollut niin
nälkä, että kastelisi hyvin hoidettua turkkiaan saareen uimalla.

Mutta eräänä päivänä liukui yli suon, pysähdellen ja matalien

pensaitten takana piileskellen, kaunis, tummanruskea, uhkaavan
näköinen muukalainen. Se oli pitkä ja matala ruumiiltaan, taipuisa
kuin käärme, pää julma ja suippo. Se hiipi veden rannalle ja seisoi
siinä kiinteästi katsellen pesässään hautovaa emää.
 Pesän valpas varjelija ei koskaan ennen ollut nähnyt kiiltonäätää,
mutta se ymmärsi heti, että tämä oli vihollinen ja vaarallinenkin.
Levittäen mahtavat siipensä, alentaen ja kurottaen pitkää kaulaansa,
kunnes se oli samalla tasolla maan kanssa, sihisten kuin
höyryviemäri se kiersi pesän ympäri, kunnes pääsi kumppaninsa ja
noiden surmaa ennustavien silmien väliin. Veden reunassa se seisoi
komeana, hohtavana, lumivalkoisena. Tuokion aikaa nuo kaksi niin
erilaista vastustajaa seisoivat tarkastellen toisiaan välillään
parikymmentä yardia kirkasta vettä.

Kiiltonäädän ei ollut erittäin nälkä, mutta sillä oli, kuten tavallista,

halu surmata. Sen vitkastelu ei johtunut epäröimisestä, vaan
yksinkertaisesti siitä, että se ei ollut koskaan ennen nähnyt joutsenta,
ja ovelana se mittaili vastustajaansa joka puolelta ennen hyökkäystä.
Vihdoin se äänettömästi luiskahti veteen ja ui aika vauhtia saarta
kohden.

Tavallisissa oloissa joutsen ehkä mieluimmin olisi odottanut

hyökkäystä omalla kynnyksellään, mutta jokin äkillinen vaisto kehoitti
sitä ryhtymään otteluun sillä taistelukentällä, joka sille oli tutuin. Se
painui veteen sileästi kuin öljy ja liukui pitkin pintaa ilman
huomattavaa ponnistusta voimakkaiden räpyläinsä avulla paljoa
nopeammin kuin näätä. Mutta se ei purjehtinut suoraan vihollista
vastaan; päinvastoin näytti jälkimäisestä, kuin se aikoisi välttää
taistelua. Kaartaen se ui eteenpäin kuin epäröiden, miten menetellä
tällaisessa tapauksessa.

Näätä oli melkein sen rinnalla, kun se käännähti vinhasti kuin

salama ja kohoten ylös vedestä syöksyi suoraan uijan päätä kohti.
Uija sukelsi, mutta yllätettynä se ei ollut kyllin nopea, vaan sai
pyörryttävän iskun oikean silmän yläpuolelle linnun väkevästä
nokasta. Hetkeksi sokaistuneena siltä puolen se samalla yltyi
hurjaan vimmaan. Että pelkkä höyhenpukuinen rohkeni sitä
vastustaa, se oli uskomatonta. Näätä kohosi silmänräpäyksessä
pinnalle työntäen puolet vartalostaan vedestä esille ja ilkeästi
narskuttaen pitkillä valkoisilla hampaillaan. Mutta se joutui
käsittämättömään melskeeseen, jossa oli suunnattomia, ruhjovia
siipiä, piestyä vaahtoa, ennen kuulumatonta sähinää ja sokaisevia,
jäykkiä sulkia; eikä sen puolestaan onnistunut saada kuin muutamia
höyheniä murhaavien leukainsa väliin. Hämmentyneenä ja
tukehtumaisillaan se vaipui takaisin suu höyheniä täynnä. Kun se
vielä kerran sukelsi aikoen nousta pinnalle jossakin hyökkäykseen
soveliaammassa paikassa, kenties noin jalan verran pintaa
alempana, kävi sen niskaan kiinni teräksenkova leukapari. Joutsen
oli työntänyt pitkän käärmemäisen kaulansa veden alle kuin
etsiäkseen liljan juuria ja saatuaan lujasti kiinni vihollisestaan puisteli
sitä kuin rakki vanhaa kenkää. Sen kaula ja nokka olivat erinomaisen
sopivat tähän työhön, sillä liljan juuret ovat sitkeät ja vaativat
pontevaa nykimistä.

Maissa tämä temppu olisi tietenkin heti ollut linnun häviö. Ketterä,
jäntevä näätä olisi kääntynyt ympäri ja käynyt hampain kiinni
vastustajansa kurkkuun, jolloin taistelu olisi ollut lopussa. Mutta
täällä vedessä se ei saanut mitään tukea, minkä varassa ponnistaisi.
Se ei voinut muuta kuin potkia hyödyttömässä raivossaan. Sitäpaitsi,
tottumattomana kamppailemaan veden alla, se tahtomattaan avasi
suunsa ja samassa tunsi alkavansa tukehtua. Jos joutsen nyt
todellakin olisi ymmärtänyt asemansa edullisuuden, olisi se ilman
muuta voinut hukuttaa ahdistajansa ja näin vapauttaa erämaan
yhdestä sen pahimpia vitsauksia. Mutta vimmastunut lintu, joka ei
itse tuntenut mitään vastenmielisyyttä pitäessään päätään useita
minuutteja yhteen menoon veden alla, ei osannut aavistaa, että
sellainen koe olisi sen viholliselle ollut kuolettava. Se hellitti hetken
perästä kauhean otteensa ja jäi keveästi peräytyen odottamaan
hyökkääjän uutta ilmestymistä veden pinnalle, torjuakseen sen
uusilla iskuilla suurista siivistään, joihin se alati turvasi.

Tavallisesti kiiltonäätä on viimeinen peräytymään tai masentumaan

minkään rangaistuksen uhatessa. Mutta tällainen kuritus oli niin
salaperäistä, niin aavistamatonta, että täksi kerraksi se tuntui
muuttuneen koko luonnoltaan. Muuten on hyvin luultavaa, että oikein
perinpohjainen upotus jäähdyttäisi sarvikuononkin taisteluinnon. Niin
ainakin kävi näädän. Vaikka sen keuhkot olivat halkeamaisillaan ja
silmissä iski tulta, ymmärsi se heti, kun puserrus niskasta heltisi,
jäädä vielä muutamaksi sekunniksi veden alle uiden samalla
epätoivoisesti omaa rantaansa kohden. Kun sen vihdoin täytyi
nostaa päänsä pinnalle, oli se enää muutaman jalan päässä
rantapensaista, mutta sen vastustaja oli myös siellä. Nielaisten
keuhkojen täydeltä ilmaa, jonka puutteessa se oli menehtyä, se
sukelsi uudelleen ja tällä kertaa niin syvälle kuin suinkin pääsi,
pelastuen kuin ihmeen kautta, kun sen voittaja taas nuolennopeasti
tavoitti sitä nokallaan. Vasta päästyään suojaavien juurten ja
runkojen keskelle se rohkeni kohota jälleen, mutta silloinkin vain
huomaamatta madellakseen niiden välitse, kunnes oli ehtinyt hyvät
kaksikymmentä askelta veden rajasta. Sitten se pysähtymättä luikki
tiehensä miettimään tätä tilannetta, eikä sitä nolompi näätä ole
milloinkaan pitkin suota samoillut. Joutsen näki vilaukselta näädän
pakenevan, kajahutti erämaan yksinäisyydessä ilmoille raikuvan
voitonriemunsa ja ui ylpeänä takaisin pesälleen.

Kun nuo viisi kärsivälliselle emolle pesässään niin pitkäksi

käynyttä hautomisviikkoa lähenivät loppuaan, tuli kangasmaille
ennenkuulumaton kuivuudenaika. Lukuisat vesisuonet, jotka
muulloin huuhtoivat suota, kuivuivat niin peräti, etteivät pitkäikäiset
joutsenet muistaneet sellaista koskaan ennen sattuneen.
Pitkällisessä varjottomassa päivänpaisteessa järvi kutistui
uskomattomasti. Viimein, pesän varjelijain mielipahaksi niiden saari
lakkasi olemasta oikea saari. Kallioryhmä, joka sen muodosti, kohosi
niin korkealle vedestä, että ilmestyi kapeaharjainen kari, joka yhdisti
sen rantaan. Se ei ollut kuin jakso toisistaan etäällä olevia,
epävarmoja astuinkiviä, joita hienoinkin vedenväreily huuhteli, mutta
se riitti valmistamaan kyllin taitavalle kulkijalle kuivan pääsön
saareen. Joutsenet katselivat sitä yhä levottomampina.

Vihdoin koitti se päivä, jolloin kärsivällinen hautoja kuuli liikettä ja

naputusta ja vienoa ääntä kuudesta kallisarvoisesta munasia
rintansa alla. Kerran toisensa perästä se painoi päänsä niiden
sekaan kuunnellakseen lumoutuneena tai vastatakseen pehmeillä,
rohkaisevilla kurkkuäänillä. Kumppanikin lähestyi pesää unohtaen
syömisensä, mutta aina muistaen pitää säihkyvin katsein silmällä
rannalle vievää karia.

Pian yksi pienoisista joutsenenpoikasista, jaettuaan kuoren

kahteen puoliskoon teräväkärkisen nokkansa säännöllisillä iskuilla,
työnsi ylemmän puoliskon pois, ikäänkuin se olisi ollut vain kansi, ja
kieri ulos ihan märkänä emonsa kuumaa, alastonta rintaa vasten.
Emo työnsi kuoren puolikkaat sisätysten, jotteivät veisi niin paljon
tilaa, ja vähän myöhemmin heitti ne ulos pesästä, etteivät painuisi
toisen munan päälle näin tukahuttaen sen asukkaan.

Pian jälleen kaksi pienokaista puhkaisi kuorensa melkein yhtaikaa.

Ihastunut emo oli nyt puoleksi seisaallaan jättääkseen kosteille
sätkyttäjille enemmän tilaa. Juuri tällöin muuan suuri harmaa ilves
kierrellen tavallista lähempänä veden rajaa huomasi astumakivet ja
päätti kulkea niiden yli. Jo kauan se oli himoinnut näitä suuria
valkoisia lintuja.

Tavallisissa oloissa ei joutsenista väkevinkään kykene

mittelemään voimiaan ilveksen kanssa, vaan joutuu poikkeuksetta
tuon julman, voimakkaan pedon avuttomaksi saaliiksi. Mutta usein
villieläimet, poikasiaan puolustaessaan, osoittavat sellaista kykyä ja
urheutta, josta tavallisina aikoina ei osaa uneksiakaan. Silloin ne
ovat täysin välinpitämättömiä kaikista vaaroista, ja tällainen mieliala
saa usein aikaan mahdottomiakin. Sitäpaitsi on toista puolustaa
siltaa kuin taistella aukealla.

Ei kumpikaan joutsen ollut hetkeäkään epätietoinen siitä, että

tässä oli kuolemanvaara. Ne tunsivat ilveksen tavat. Emälintu nousi
seisomaan muniensa ja poikastensa keskeltä ja astui varovasti
pesästä sähisten ja lyöden siivillään. Molemmat linnut ymmärsivät
olla hyökkäämättä tämän vihollisen kimppuun maalla tai vesillä.
Päästäen raivoisia huutoja ne kohosivat vaivaloisesti ilmaan.

Ilves oli saavuttanut astumakivistä toisen, terävän ja kapean, ja

pysytteli sen päällä ennenkuin loikkaisi seuraavalle, varovaisena
kuin kotikissa, joka pelkää kastelevansa jalkansa. Juuri kun se
valmistautui hyppyyn, iski koirasjoutsen sitä raskaasti päähän, niin
että se oli vähällä menettää tasapainonsa. Sen etukäpälät ja
viiksinen kuono tosin painuivatkin veteen, mutta vahvat, hyppyä
varten sovitetut takakynnet pitivät kalliosta kiinni. Kiukkuisesti sylkien
ja hämmästyneenä se kapusi entiseen asemaansa. Mutta
seuraavana hetkenä se oli niin ajattelematon ja ylen rohkea, että
nousi takajaloilleen ja tavoitti ahdistajaansa toivoen siten vetävänsä
sen ilmasta maahan. Juuri silloin, kun ilveksen tasapaino oli
epävarmin, heitti emälintu vaaraa uhmaten koko murskaavan
painonsa sitä kohti. Auttamattomasti ilves kierähti karilta ja joutsen
putosi sen mukana ja päällä, painuen syvälle veteen.

Tuokion verran ilves sokaistuneena kynsi joutsenta repien siitä irti

vahvoja valkoisia sulkia ja viiltäen ammottavia haavoja sen rintaan ja
reiteen. Mutta tätä kesti vain lyhyen hetken. Nolattuna ja
tukehtumaisillaan se hellitti otteensa ja pulikoi pinnalle. Sen
ryömiessä ylös karille molemmat linnut olivat heti jälleen sen
kimpussa. Mutta ilveksessä ei enää ollut rahtuakaan taistelunhalua.
Sen ei ollut ensinkään nälkä, eikä se välittänyt joutsenista, vaan
tahtoi päästä johonkin päivänpaisteiseen, rauhalliseen paikkaan
itseään kuivaamaan. Äänekkäästi sylkien, pää kyyryssä olkain
välissä, korvat luimussa, hännän töpö lujasti painettuna pörröisten
koipien väliin se pakeni häpeällisesti oikeasta siipien, nokkain ja
kirkumisten helvetistä.

Kun ilves lopulta ei enää ollut saavutettavissa, oikaisivat

molemmat joutsenet itsensä täyteen pituuteensa, levittivät siipensä
mahdollisimman laajalle ja toitottivat käheän varoituksen kaikille
rauhanhäiritsijöille. Sitten ne kiiruhtivat takaisin pesälle, jota osasivat
niin hyvin varjella. Emälintu, nähtävästi tuntematta haavojaan, ryhtyi
jälleen hautomiseensa pehmeästi kurnutellen kuoriville pienokaisille,
kun taas koiraslintu tyynenä, kuin ei mitään tavallisuudesta
poikkeavaa olisi tapahtunut tai koskaan saattaisi tapahtua, asettui
puhdistelemaan sotkeutunutta, lumihohteista höyhenpukuaan.

Meren tiikeri.
 Halki laajojen, hiljaisten punavihreiden maininkien, joiden harjaa
lempeä tuulenhenki heikosti väreilytti, uiskenteli emovalas
tyytyväisenä poikasen pysytellessä aivan vieressä. Vähän väliä
pikku valas hankasi itseään emoa vastaan ikäänkuin arkaillen noita
valtameren aavoja ja vaarallisia ulapoita ja etsien suojaa emon
lyhyen, voimallisen pyrstön takaa. Ja vähän väliä emovalas, joka on
villin luonnon huolellisimpia ja uutterimpia äitejä, veti poikasensa
isolla pyrstöllä hyväillen kylkeänsä vasten tai kääntyen puoleksi
ympäri kosketti sitä kysyvästi suunnattomalla pyöristetyllä
kuonollaan.

Tämä iso miekkavalas eli "murhavalas", joksi joku merimies tai

kalastaja, joka olisi sen sattunut näkemään, olisi sitä nimittänyt, oli
hyvinkin yhdeksäntoista tai kaksikymmentä jalkaa pitkä. Sen olisi
kaikista muista valas- ja pyöriäissuvun jäsenistä heti voinut erottaa
suunnattoman selkäevän nojalla, joka ei ollut paljoa alle viiden jalan
korkuinen ja kohosi suorana sen leveästä, mahtavasta mustasta
selkäkaarteesta, ja lisäksi oli sillä tuntomerkkeinä kaksi hyvin
huomattavaa valkoista juovaa mustassa kyljessä ja selväpiirteisenä
näkyvä, kellahtava maha sen laiskasti vieriessä aallokon rinteellä.
Nämä kaikki olivat vaaran merkkejä, jotka olisivat panneet
asiantuntijan olemaan varuillaan.

Valaan poikasella ei ollut juuri syytä tuntea pelkoa, niin kauan kuin
se pysyi emon läheisyydessä. Sillä tämä valaista vinhavauhtisin ja
julmin ei pelännyt mitään muuta uivaa kuin jättiläisserkkuaan
potovalasta. Vaikka vain kahdenkymmenen jalan pituinen, saattoi se
pelkän vimmansa nojalla tehdä hengenvaarallisia hyökkäyksiä
suurta eli "oikeata" valasta vastaan, joka oli noin neljä kertaa sen
pituinen ja monin verroin kookkaampi. Ihmistä sen olisi ehkä ollut syy
peljätä, jos se olisi koskaan joutunut tämän mahtia kokemaan, mutta
kun se oli rasvasta köyhä, ei sen suku koskaan ollut houkutellut
ihmistä näin vaivaloiseen ja vaaralliseen pyydystämiseen. Haikaloja
tosin oli sen kokoisia tai siitä voiton viepiäkin, mutta ei ainoatakaan
sen vertaista julmuudessa, nopeudessa ja oveluudessa.
Huolettoman tyytyväisenä se siis uiskenteli pitkin suloista, rauhallista
merta, välittämättä hyrskyistä keltaisten kallioiden ympärillä oikealla
puolella tai valtameren tyhjistä avaruuksista vasemmalla. Mikäli
aikaa jäi poikasen lapsellisen sulon tarkkaamiselta, sen se käytti
tähystelläkseen läpikuultavaan syvyyteen allaan; siellä piileskeli
suuria mustekaloja ja muita velttoja merenpohjalla eleskeleviä kaloja,
joita sen oli tapana saaliikseen pyydystää.

Äkkiä se sukelsi päästämättä muuta ääntä kuin kovan, imemistä

muistuttavan kohinan, kun vedet sulkeutuivat sen yli. Kaukana
alhaalla hämärässä se oli havainnut kalpean, sätkivän olennon. Se
oli meripolyyppi, joka älyttömästi oli jättänyt tavallisen kotinsa
pohjakallioiden välissä ja lähtenyt etsimään uusia ruokamaita.
Ennenkuin se ehti yrittääkään paeta, joutui se surmaajan suurten
leukojen vangiksi. Hetken aikaa sen kahdeksan pitkää tuntosarvea
kiemurteli epätoivoisesti tavoitellen vangitsijansa huulia. Sitten ne
hävisivät yhdellä nielaisulla sisään vedettyinä. Tämän jälkeen valas
ui rauhallisesti takaisin päivänpaisteiselle pinnalle, kohdaten
puolitiessä levottoman poikasensa, joka ei ollut kyennyt kyllin
nopeasti seuraamaan emoa tämän salamantapaisessa
sukelluksessa. Emo ei ollut viipynyt kahta minuuttia poissa eikä
hetkeäkään näkymättömissä, mutta pienokaisen vaisto varoitti sitä,
että lempeä sininen alkuaine, missä se asui, oli vaaroja täynnä.

Meripolyyppi, vaikka isoa lajia, oli ollut vain suupala suurelle

tappajalle, vain kiihoitin sen suunnattomalle ruokahalulle. Se matkasi
nyt eteenpäin tutkien tarkemmalla silmällä syvyyksiä. Silloin veden
syvä sinivihreä väri alkoi vaihtua vaaleammaksi kirkkaanviheriäksi,
missä rivi vasta muodostuvia kareja kohosi noin kolmenkymmenen
jalan päähän veden pinnasta ja hohti auringossa. Tässä makasi
päivää paistattamassa leveä, litteä, yökköä muistuttava olento, jonka
siipievät olivat yhteensä kaksitoista jalkaa pitkät ja häntä kuin piiska.
Sen kylmät, liikkumattomat silmät tuijottivat ylöspäin ja huomasivat
surmaajan ruumiin hitaasti pintaa halkomassa. Tuskin huomattavasti
liikauttaen mustia siipiään se luiskahti karilta ja sukelsi turvaa etsien
syvyyksiin.

Mutta tuo jättiläismäinen rauskukala ei ollut osannut kyllin nopeasti

ja liukkaasti välttää vihollisensa silmää. Taas valas sukelsi
välittämättä liikkua ääneti tällä kertaa, ja niin nopeasti se meni, että
sen leveät suoraan ylöspäin kohoavat evät piestessään vettä
synnyttivät äänen, joka kuului koko matkan rantaan asti. Valas painui
alas luotisuoraan. Rauskukala näki sen tulevan ja joutui kauhun
valtaan. Se ryntäsi sivulle ja kohta taas ylöspäin komeassa loivassa
kaaressa. Rajulla voimallaan se sinkautti koko tärisevän ruumiinsa
korkealle ilmaan, missä se kääntyi ja hetken roikkui mustana
lepattaen, ikäänkuin sen silmitön kauhu olisi ajanut sen valtaamaan
uuden alkuaineen. Hermostuneesta valaanpoikasesta se oli kamala
kummitus, joka peitti auringon. Mutta tämä kiivas retki ilmaan kesti
vain sekunnin tai pari ja oli yhtä turha kuin lyhytaikainen. Kun litteät
mustat siivet painuivat hurjasti läiskähtäen takaisin veteen, kohosi
takaa-ajava valas melkein niiden alta, tarttui niihin ja veti ne
syvyyteen. Siitä ei sukeutunut taistelua, rauskukala kun oli voimaton
mahtavan vastustajansa edessä ‒ vain lyhyen hetken sokea
vimmattu temmellys vaahtoavissa hyrskyissä ja sitten laajeneva
punainen jälki vihreässä meressä.
 Tämä oli täysin riittävä ateria sellaisellekin ruokahalulle kuin
valaan, ja monet hylätyt rippeet hajaantuivat ja painuivat ruuaksi
lukemattomille siivousta tekeville ravuille, jotka piileskelivät ruokojen
välissä ja vajonneiden karien onteloissa. Valas jäi noin puoleksi
tunniksi paikoilleen kieriskellen tyytyväisenä kirkkaassa vedessä
salakarin yläpuolella, hoidellen ja hyväillen pienokaistaan ja
sulatellen ateriaansa. Sitten se hitaasti jatkoi matkaansa, mutta
kaartaen rantaa kohden, kunnes ei ollut kuin noin puolen penikulman
päässä äkkijyrkkäin saarten ja rikkonaisten niemekkeiden ketjusta,
joka reunusti tätä vaarallista rannikkoa. Nyt oli ihan keskipäivä, ja
auringonvalo, jota ei pilvikään himmentänyt, langetessaan melkein
kohtisuoraan meren pintaan näytti pohjan olevan hämmästyttävän
kaukana. Noin puolivälissä tätä läpikuultavaa hohtoa uiskenteli suuri
mustekala kaikessa rauhassa. Sen kapea, suippeneva ruumis oli
noin kuuden jalan pituinen ja ehkä kaksitoista tai neljätoista tuumaa
poikkimitaten leveimmältä kohdaltaan, joka oli pää. Muodottomasta
päästä lähti, työntyen ulos melkein kuin lehdenvarret porkkanasta,
kimppu tuntosarvia, kymmenen luvultaan ja melkein ruumiinmittaisia.
Tuntosarvet samoin kuin ruumis olivat vaaleata, likaista
kellahtavanharmaata väriä ruskeaan menevine täplineen, jollainen
väri teki kalan melkein näkymättömäksi auringon läpitunkemassa
meressä. Mustekala eteni takaperoa ja suoritti liikettään, ei
tuntosarvillaan, vaan imemällä suuren määrän vettä laajaan
tuntosarvien alapuolella olevaan lihaksilla varustettuun säkkiin ja
työntämällä sen taas voimakkaasti ulos. Näytti siltä, kuin se
hengittäisi ilmaa, ja käyttäisi sitä puhaltaakseen itseään eteenpäin.

Valaan ei suinkaan ollut näin pian nälkä jättiläisrauskusta

saamansa juhla-aterian jälkeen, mutta niin mehevä pala kuin
mustekala oli kiusaus, jota ei voinut vastustaa. Liukkaasti
käännyttyään tuo suunnaton, mutta kaunismuotoinen musta ja
valkoinen olento ampui suoraan alaspäin välkkyvien vetten läpi.
Mutta ennenkuin se saavutti mustekalan, katsahti tämä ylöspäin ja
näki sen. Silmänräpäyksessä sen kymmenen notkeata tuntosarvea
kietoutui jäykäksi kimpuksi, joka ei tuottanut mitään esteitä sen
kululle eteenpäin, ja vaaleat kyljet vetäytyivät voimakkaasti
kouristuen kokoon työntäen ulos suuren määrän vettä, joka lennätti
sitä poispäin sellaista vauhtia kuin torpeedo olisi ammuttu
torvestaan; samalla se ruiskautti etenemissäkkinsä rauhasesta
suihkun mustemaista nestettä, mikä heti levisi suureksi mustaksi
pilveksi verhoten sen paon. Noin kätkettynä se muutti suuntansa ja
pakeni alaspäin syvää kalliopohjan halkeamaa kohti, missä vihollisen
leuat, kuten se tiesi, eivät sen kimppuun ulottuisi.

Valas hyökkäsi säikkymättä suoraan eteenpäin mustemaiseen

pilveen. Mutta jouduttuaan keskelle hämärää se kadotti kaikki jäljet
tavoittamastaan saaliista. Hetkiseksi se eksyi itsekin. Se heittelehti
sinne tänne vimmatusti rauskuttaen suunnattomia leukojaan, mutta
turhaan. Niiden väliin ei tullut muuta kuin tyhjää väritettyä vettä.
Vihdoin ja aivan odottamatta se pääsi mustasta kehästä ulos
läpikuultavaan viheriään ja katsahtaen ylöspäin näki näyn, mikä pani
sen hulluna syöksymään vedenpintaa kohti valtavien kylkien
meloessa huimaavia kaarteita. Sen vimmatuista iskuista kiehuivat
syvät vedet. Nuo iskut panivat syvyyden kiehumaan kuin
valtamerilaivan potkurien lyönneistä.

Valaanpoikanen oli lähtenyt seuraamaan emoaan syvyyksiin,

mutta oli säikähtänyt mustepilveä, jonne oli nähnyt emon häviävän.
Palattuaan hätääntyneenä pinnalle se uiskenteli ympäri levottomana
ja ilman päämäärää, kunnes äkkäsi harhailevan haikalan.
 Haikala tiesi kyllä hyvin, mikä se oli, ja tähysti ympärilleen,
näkyisikö missään emoa. Se ei tahtonut olla epäystävällinen
emävalaalle; mutta emää ei ollut näkyvissä. Se ei ymmärtänyt asian
oikeata laitaa; mutta sen oli raju nälkä ja tällainen tilaisuus oli aivan
vastustamaton. Se ryntäsi pikkuvalasta kohti ja kääntyi kyljelleen,
niin että lyijynkarvainen vatsa näkyi, tarttuakseen saaliiseensa.
Valaanpoikanen säikähti tummaa, kolmikulmaista, monihampaista
onkaloa, joka äkkiä ammotti sen edessä, luiskahti syrjään viime
hetkessä ja alkoi uida suuressa kaaressa sen kohdan ympärillä,
minne emo oli sukeltanut.

Taas haikala hyökkäsi, mutta sen täytyi kääntyä kyljelleen

saadakseen omituiset alapuolelta jäykät leukansa toimimaan, ja
valaanpojalla oli jo sukunsa notkeus. Taas hyökkäys epäonnistui.
Ennenkuin haikala ehti sen uudistaa, huomasi se emävalaan
kohoavan viheriästä syvyydestä. Vaikka haikala oli noin viisikolmatta
jalkaa pitkä ‒ runsaasti viisi jalkaa valasta pitempi ‒ kääntyi se
ympäri ja pakeni henkensä kaupalla.

Yksi ainoa silmäys selvitti emolle, että pienokainen oli

vahingoittumaton. Sitten se syöksähti ahdistajan jälkeen sellaista
vauhtia, että tämän pako oli aivan turha. Ennenkuin haikala oli
päässyt viidenkymmenen yardin päähän, oli valas sen kimpussa kita
ammollaan. Heittäytyen suonenvetoisesti sivulle haikalan onnistui
täpärästi väistää ensimäinen vastustamaton hyökkäys. Epätoivon
vimmalla se väänsi itsensä kiemuraksi ja puolittain kääntyen
kyljelleen pujahti vastustajansa mahan alle, johon kävi kiinni
kolmikulmaisilla leuoillaan. Mutta valas oli jo väistynyt, eikä haikalan
onnistunut saada lujaa otetta. Se tosin raastoi irti joukon nahkaa ja
rasvaa, mutta ei päässyt kiinni mihinkään hengenvaaralliseen
kohtaan, ja raivostunut murhavalas tuskin tunsikaan haavojaan.
Käännähtäen ympäri niin kiivaasti, että vaahtoa ja kuohua pärskähti
ilmaan, se sai haikalan pyrstön tyven suunnattomien leukainsa väliin.

Mitä tulee varsinaiseen taisteluun, niin tämä oli sen loppu. Useita
minuutteja kesti tuota jättiläistemmellystä, joka pieksi värjäytyneitä
vesiä yardien korkeuteen, mutta se oli vain toispuolista, kun
miekkavalas pudisteli ja murskasi ja repi henkeä irti voitetusta
vastustajastaan. Vihdoin se vetäytyi pois jättäen ruhjotun raadon
hitaasti painumaan syvyyksiin. Sitten se kahmaisi kiihtyneen
poikasen evänsä alle, imetti sitä ja ui hitaasti maata kohden saaria ja
rantaa tällä kohtaa erottavaan syvään salmeen, missä luuli
löytävänsä lisää noita meheviä mustekaloja korvaukseksi siitä, joka
niin arvaamatta oli välttänyt sen lähentelemiset.

Tuulenhenki, joka tähän asti oli saanut toimeen vain heikkoja

väreitä, kiihtyi nyt tasaiseksi viimaksi, vaikkei sekään jaksanut muuta
kuin tummentaa meren pinnan himmeän purppuraiseksi. Vapaana
kiitäen tuulen edellä pitkin rannikkoa tuli pieni purjealus, jonka ainoa
purje kimalteli valkoisena kirkkaassa päivänpaisteessa.

Pienessä aluksessa oli kaksi matkustajaa ‒ mies perässä poltellen

isoa orjantappuraista piippua ja silkkikarvainen ruskea vainukoira
kyyristyneenä maston juurelle. Tuollainen pähkinänkuori joutui tässä
kulkemaan pitkin vaarallista rannikkoa ja väylää, mutta mies oli
taitava purjehtimaan pienillä aluksilla ja tiesi, että matkalla siitä
satamasta, mistä oli lähtenyt, täältä noin viidentoista penikulman
päästä, siihen paikkaan, minne nyt oli menossa, kymmenkunnan
penikulmaa pohjoiseen päin, oli monta turvapaikkaa suojaksi
äkillisen itämyrskyn sattuessa. Nämä vedet olivat hänelle outoja,
mutta hänellä oli hyvä kartta, ja erityistä huvia tuotti hänelle
samoileminen pitkin tuntemattomia rantoja, ainoana toverinaan
uskollinen ja kaikkeen mukaantuva koiransa, joka aina oli hänen
kanssaan yhtä mieltä siitä, missä paikoissa olisi hauskinta käydä.

Mutta vaikka Gardner oli tottunut purjehtija, jolla oli tarkka silmä
huomaamaan kaikki säänmerkit ja herkkä vaisto tuntemaan
tuulenpuuskat ruorinvarresta tai purjeen jännityksestä, oli hän
luonnonhistoriaan vähemmän perehtynyt, kuin oli suotavaa
sellaiselle, joka piti asutettua merta urheilukenttänään. Hänen
käsityksensä valaiden suvusta ja niiden vaihtelevista luonteista
perustui siihen, mitä oli lukenut suuresta pelokkaasta valaanluu-
valaskalasta ja nähnyt iloisesta, vaarattomasta pyöriäisestä. Kun hän
nyt näki miekkavalaan kaarevan mustan selän ja kauhistavan pään
sen verkalleen kyntäessä aaltoja, ei hänen siis juolahtanut
mieleensäkään, että piti olla varuillaan. Jos hän olisi ollut tavallinen
kulkija näillä vesillä, olisi hän heti kääntänyt keulansa toiseen
suuntaan, jottei valas arvelisi hänen haluavan häiritä sen
yksinäisyyttä. Mutta näin ollen hän purjehti lähemmäksi nähdäkseen,
mikä kala tai peto tuo musta ja valkoinen olento oli, se kun ei
näkynyt olevan hänen lähestymisestään milläänkään.

Sivuuttaessaan sitä noin kahdeksankymmenen tai sadan yardin

matkalta Gardner sai äkkiä mielettömän päähänpiston. Tässähän on
hyvä tilaisuus ampua! Tuntematon peto olisi hauska saalis. Hän ei
pysähtynyt miettimään, mitä sille tekisi, jos todellakin saisi sen. Hän
ei huolinut myöskään ajatella, että hänen oli turha toivoakaan
kevyellä kiväärillään saavansa tuolle merihirviölle sen pahempaa
kuin tuskallisen haavan niiden rasvakerrosten läpi, jotka suojasivat
sen sisimpiä elimiä. Hän ei tiennyt sitäkään, että kuollut valaskala
painuu pohjaan, joten ei onnistuneinkaan laukaus tuottaisi hänelle
mitään palkintoa. Siinä oli kylliksi, että tappamisvietti oli saanut hänet
valtaansa.