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Valleys, Vehicles & Victims: A Camper & Criminals Cozy Mystery Series Read online




  Valleys, Vehicles & Victims

  A CAMPER AND CRIMINALS COZY MYSTERY

  Book Nine

  BY

  TONYA KAPPES

  VALLEYS, VEHICLES AND VICTIMS

  She knocked again. This time, the door unlatched and crept open about an inch.

  “Hello, Lewis. It’s Christine from the Cookie Crumble. I’m here to have you and your father sample the groom’s cakes with the various frostings.” She looked at us and let out a long sigh.

  “Knock again,” I encouraged her. “Maybe someone is in the bathroom.”

  “Fine.” She knocked. The motel door opened even more, letting the sunlight spill into the room. “Lewis? Dan?” she called into the room.

  “I’ll go look.” I put my box on top of Violet’s and walked past Christine.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Christine turned. “Let’s go see if they are in the café?”

  “It’ll just take a second to see if someone is in the bathroom. I know my way around these rooms.” I ran my hand along the inside wall and stood at the doorway. “I helped Betts clean them before Coke opened for business.”

  The light turned on.

  I turned to get the box back from Violet and couldn’t catch it when she dropped it, bringing her hands up to her mouth.

  “What?” I asked just as Christine screamed.

  When I looked back into the room, I saw a dead man with a knife sticking out of his back. He lay face down in a pool of blood.

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Cover by Covervault, Mariah Sinclair. Edits by Red Adept Editing Services.

  Copyright © 2019 by Tonya Kappes. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information email [email protected] .

  About the Author

  Tonya has written over 55 novels and four novellas, all of which have graced numerous bestseller lists, including the USA Today. Best known for stories charged with emotion and humor and filled with flawed characters, her novels have garnered reader praise and glowing critical reviews. She lives with her husband and a very spoiled rescue cat named Ro. Tonya grew up in the small southern Kentucky town of Nicholasville. Now that her four boys are grown men, Tonya writes full-time.

  Visit Tonya:

  Facebook at Author Tonya Kappes,

  https://www.facebook.com/authortonyakappes

  Kappes Krew Street Team

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/208579765929709/

  Webpage

  http://www.tonyakappes.com/

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  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4423580.Tonya_Kappes

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  https://twitter.com/tonyakappes11

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  https://www.pinterest.com/tonyakappes/

  For weekly updates and contests, sign up for Coffee Chat with Tonya newsletter via her website or Facebook.

  Also by Tonya Kappes

  Magical Cures Mystery Series

  A CHARMING CRIME

  A CHARMING CURE

  A CHARMING POTION (novella)

  A CHARMING WISH

  A CHARMING SPELL

  A CHARMING MAGIC

  A CHARMING SECRET

  A CHARMING CHRISTMAS (novella)

  A CHARMING FATALITY

  A CHARMING DEATH (novella)

  A CHARMING GHOST

  A CHARMING HEX

  A CHARMING VOODOO

  A CHARMING CORPSE

  A CHARMING MISFORTUNE

  A Camper and Criminals Cozy Mystery

  BEACHES, BUNGALOWS, & BURGLARIES

  DESERTS, DRIVERS, & DERELICTS

  FORESTS, FISHING, & FORGERY

  CHRISTMAS, CRIMINALS, & CAMPERS

  MOTORHOMES, MAPS, & MURDER

  CANYONS, CARAVANS, & CADAVERS

  HITCHES, HIDEOUTS, & HOMICIDE

  ASSAILANTS, ASPHALT, & ALIBIS

  VALLEYS, VEHICLES & VICTIMS

  A Southern Cake Baker Series

  (under the pen name of Maymee Bell)

  CAKE AND PUNISHMENT

  BATTER OFF DEAD

  A Ghostly Southern Mystery Series

  A GHOSTLY UNDERTAKING

  A GHOSTLY GRAVE

  A GHOSTLY DEMISE

  A GHOSTLY MURDER

  A GHOSTLY REUNION

  A GHOSTLY MORTALITY

  A GHOSTLY SECRET

  Killer Coffee Mystery Series

  SCENE OF THE GRIND

  MOCHA AND MURDER

  FRESHLY GROUND MURDER

  COLD BLOODED BREW

  DECAFFEINATED SCANDAL

  A KILLER LATTE

  Kenni Lowry Mystery Series

  FIXIN’ TO DIE

  SOUTHERN FRIED

  AX TO GRIND

  SIX FEET UNDER

  DEAD AS A DOORNAIL

  TANGLED UP IN TINSEL

  DIGGIN’ UP DIRT

  Spies and Spells Mystery Series

  SPIES AND SPELLS

  BETTING OFF DEAD

  GET WITCH or DIE TRYING

  A Laurel London Mystery Series

  CHECKERED CRIME

  CHECKERED PAST

  CHECKERED THIEF

  A Divorced Diva Beading Mystery Series

  A BEAD OF DOUBT SHORT STORY

  STRUNG OUT TO DIE

  CRIMPED TO DEATH

  Olivia Davis Paranormal Mystery Series

  SPLITSVILLE.COM

  COLOR ME LOVE (novella)

  COLOR ME A CRIME

  Grandberry Falls Series

  THE LADYBUG JINX

  HAPPY NEW LIFE

  A SUPERSTITIOUS CHRISTMAS (novella)

  NEVER TELL YOUR DREAMS

  Bluegrass Romance Series

  GROOMING MR. RIGHT

  TAMING MR. RIGHT

  Women’s Fiction

  CARPE BREAD ’EM

  Young Adult

  TAG… YOU’RE IT

  CONTENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  RECIPES AND CAMPING HACKS

  Also by Tonya Kappes

  ONE

  Fall in Kentucky was probably my favorite season. The fall foliage created a cozy picture that no artist could ever capture on film or in a painting. The brilliant red hues of the red maples stood proud and tall next to the spectacular yellow and oranges leaves of the sugar maples. But the sweetgum trees that lined the exterior of the Happy Trails Campground were definitely among my favorites.

  The sweetgum was a showoff, with its rich, wine-colored yellows, oranges, reds, and purples creating the perfect autumn atmosphere for all my guests at Happy Trails Campground.

  “They are going to love the bungalows.” I sighed and brought the cup of steaming coffee to my lips. The communal campfire roared and warmed me from the early morning chill, which would soon burn up in the brilliant sunny day forecasted for Normal, Kentucky, our lit
tle slice of heaven located deep in the Daniel Boone National Forest.

  “They are going to be partying up more than enjoying the scenery.” Dottie Swaggert was always the cynical one of my little group of friends.

  She sat in the chair next to me. Her coffee was getting cold, but the cigarette dangling from the corner of her lip was lit up.

  “Bridal parties have one thing in mind,” Dottie said through the smoke. With her hands, she removed the pink sponge curlers from her hair.

  I watched in amazement. I could never figure out how she could smoke and do her hair all at the same time. She put the curls in a drawstring bag nestled in her lap.

  “Getting drunk,” she finished and then ran her hands through her short red hair. The finished product was a loose strand around her head, her usual look.

  “Maybe not.” I shrugged and took the last drink from my mug.

  “Fill ’er up?” Henry Bryan held up the stainless-steel coffee pot that had been hanging over the campfire.

  “Yes.” I held my cup out to Henry and watched as my handyman of Happy Trails carefully filled up my mug. “Thank you,” I said to him and met with his signature wide smile that made his already big nose spread across his face, exposing his two front teeth.

  “You’re welcome, Mayyyybelleeen.” He giggled when he said my name like my family did, which sometimes drove me crazy.

  Mae was how I preferred people to refer to me. Mae West was my name, and I was nothing like the actress. I just so happened I was married to Paul West. Yes. The Paul West who had been convicted for a Ponzi scheme, bankrupting celebrities and nearly half of America. His criminal ways weren’t limited to just the rich and famous. He also took money from the citizens of Normal—and me. My lifestyle dramatically changed when all my assets were seized. All but this campground, which wasn’t much of a campground when I showed up, and a beat-up campervan, which I fixed up and currently lived in.

  Fast forward to today. Paul West was murdered and not by my hands, though I did fantasize about it; the Happy Trails Campground was a thriving part of the Daniel Boone National Forest; and we were about to have one of the biggest weekends we’d ever hosted.

  Honk, honk!

  The first few honks led to a long honk that didn’t stop until the huge RV stopped right in front of the office and a pile of girls fell out.

  “I figure that’s the bride?” Dottie’s right brow cocked when the girl in the white veil was the last to get out of the camper. “Or the sash.”

  The woman waved as if she were the Queen of England as she walked out of the RV. Her blonde hair hung perfectly straight and was cut at the perfect angle. She had the kind of cut you’d get at a very fancy salon, not like Cute-icles in town. I should know. I used to go only to those upscale salons, and I couldn’t help but gaze at the bride’s hair. It glistened in the early afternoon sun.

  “What gave it away? The veil or sash that has ‘bride’ spelled out in glitter?” I joked and stood up to go greet them. “Come on,” I told Dottie. She was the manager, and I needed her to come help wrangle the rowdy bunch. “If this weekend goes well, we just might have more bridal parties.”

  “Oh goody,” she said with a flat voice. Her sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed. “Giggling and squealing is exactly why I decided to live deep in the woods.”

  “I’ll go and add some extra wood to their porches.” Henry filled up his thermos and took off the opposite direction of Dottie and me.

  “You be nice,” I warned Dottie. At times, she could pull off a “bless your heart” in a rude kind of way that would make people do a double take once they registered what she’d said.

  “I’m always nice.” Dottie laughed.

  Who’s leg was Dottie pulling? Not mine.

  “Hi there.” I greeted them with a smile and a snarling Dottie Swaggert. “I’m Mae. Welcome to Happy Trails. I’m the owner, and I live on the property.” I found guests loved to know I was just a camper away if they needed me. “This is Dottie, the manager, and she also lives here. We have a full-time handyman that lives here too, so we’ve got you covered if you need anything.”

  A woman in a short-skirted pink suit from Chanel fanned her hand in front of her face after Dottie lit up her cigarette.

  “This isn’t a smoke-free facility?” the woman asked. I wondered whether she was the bride’s or the groom’s mother.

  “Puh-lease,” Dottie snapped. “I didn’t light it yet.”

  “Mom,” the bride gushed. She took the sparkly clutch from underneath her armpit and literally smacked it into the chest of the woman next to her.

  The woman used one hand to take the clutch and the other to push the glasses back up on her nose. She had brown hair that hung past her thin shoulders. She wore a pair of jeans and a green collared shirt, finishing the outfit off with a pair of sneakers. She was the only one who looked like she was actually going to be staying in a campground.

  “It’s outside and a campground. We are here, so you’re going to have to accept the fact that Lewis and I are going to go get married here. Smoke or not.” She turned to me. “I’m Shay, the bride, in case you couldn’t tell. That’s Misty. My mother.” Shay wiggled her shoulders. “These are my bridesmaids.”

  “Nice to meet y’all.” I tried to keep smiling when I noticed all the bridesmaids’ phones were capturing every second of Shay’s big life moment. “And who are you?”

  Apparently, this woman wasn’t important. The other women were typing away on their phones, no doubt putting the moment on social media.

  “Amy Hill, family secretary.”

  Shay shrugged and buttoned up her lip.

  Amy and I exchanged pleasantries. She had a planner hugged to her body and a pencil stuck behind her ear.

  “When will the men arrive?” I asked.

  From the email correspondence I’d had with Shay, she mentioned that the girls would be driving in an RV before the men, who were also driving here in an RV. She said the arrangements were like their bachelorette and bachelor parties on wheels.

  “Not until much later this afternoon or even tonight.” Shay clasped her hands.

  Amy flipped her planner open and used her finger to scan down the page.

  “They will be arriving precisely around seven-ish,” Amy said.

  Shay rolled her eyes. “Like I said, this afternoon or tonight.” The two women definitely had a little tension between them. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”

  The bridesmaids agreed, but the mother gave a little disgruntled moan.

  “Then why don’t I take you on a quick walking tour of the main part of the campground so you’ll know exactly what’s here,” I suggested and met with smiles all around… except from the mother.

  The mom had a familiarity about her, but I couldn’t put a finger on it, so I let it roll out of my mind. I gestured for all of them to follow me while Dottie went into the office to get the contracts for them to sign on our way back around.

  Dottie and I were a team. We worked together like a well-oiled machine. It wasn’t exactly like that when I first drove into Happy Trails, but what great friendships weren’t built on some sort of initial conflict? Ignoring the mother’s grumbles under her breath about how her fancy shoes weren’t fit to walk on gravel, I started the tour.

  “Some of the campers are people who actually call Normal home and live here year round.” I gestured to a few of the campers as we walked down the gravel road that circled the big lake in the middle. “There’s also campers set up for rental, so our guests don’t have to haul in a camper or simply do without a camper.”

  The campground offered something for everyone. I was pretty proud of how I’d been able to bring the campground into the black, purchase some beat-up can-ham campers and restore them to their original glory, and add some wonderful cozy touches.

  “Everyone has lake access. There is a pier on the other side where you can get in the paddle boats. The tiki hut over there will have some snacks and cocktails.”
I was cut off by a couple of the bridesmaids squealing about how they had to get photos of them. “You can swim in the lake. There are fish. We are a catch and release but offer many different types of fish in our nightly cookouts.”

  I wasn’t sure if they were listening, but I still told them how the guests walked around at night during the suppertime hours and sampled other campers’ food by the campfires. This practice was a way to bring community and something I thoroughly enjoyed.

  “Oh! Lost dog,” Shay whined and pointed at the fluffy white ball of fur bolting toward us.

  “She’s not lost.” I smiled. “She’s exactly where she needs to be. Fifi is my dog.”

  Fifi wagged and danced around all the women. She knew if she did all sorts of standing on her hind legs and using her front paws like she was begging, she’d garner a lot of attention. Fifi lived for attention. The desire was in her DNA and trained in her before I got her and ruined her to be a hillbilly campground dog.

  She had a very high pedigree until I babysat her for her original owner and she ended up getting pregnant by a pug, of all breeds. That was what did it in for poor Fifi, and her owner didn’t want her anymore since she was no longer able to show her for money. Good for me and Fifi because we were so happy and I couldn’t imagine what life would be like if I didn’t have to give her a bath every other week. Joking, of course.

  “She’s very sweet, and you’ll see her around, along with a hound dog who goes by the name of Chester.” I glanced over at Hank Sharp’s camper, which he was renting from me.

  “Renting” was a term I used loosely, since he was my boyfriend, and recently we’d just started using the love word, something I think that took us both by surprise.

  “He’s very sweet too.” I had to reel those women back in and finish the tour or we’d never make it to town in time for their tour. We rounded the road to the back of the campground. At different offshoots, I had several concrete pads and hookups for the campers who brought in their own RVs and wanted to be surrounded by woods. This particular group wanted to show up in their RV and stay in one of the cute bungalow cabins I had for rent.

 

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