Jenny Cussler's Last Stand by Bess McBride

sniffed at the tantalizing aroma of cooking, unable to distinguish any particular smell, but dinner promised to be delicious.
    “Hi, everyone. Smells good.” He waved. Several of the middle-aged women looked up and waved back. Celia stood by idly and stared.
    “This way,” Clint gestured. “Looks like it’s in the same place as last year.” He moved toward a commercial-grade silver coffeepot on the far end of the serving counter and poured Celia and George each a cup of coffee before taking one for himself. Unwilling to disrupt the kitchen staff any longer than necessary, and anxious to get back out into the open, he pushed open the screen door nearest the coffeepot and exited on the side of the building near the community area.
    Clint paused to observe the activity at the picnic area while Celia and George followed.
    “Looks like folks are piling up down there.” Clint glanced at his watch. “Don’t you want to join your friends from Portland, Celia?”
    She moved up to stand beside him as he surveyed the new group of camp attendees.
    “Oh, no. They’re not really my friends. I only met them on the ride up here.”
    “Oh,” Clint replied, stymied. He looked over her head to George for help, but the tall blond Indian suddenly seemed to find the coffee in his cup intensely interesting. Clint sighed.
    “So, who was that woman who rode up with you?” Celia’s question did not sound casual.
    “Umm...a gal from the Boise VA, I think.” Clint played it off.
    “Well, it didn’t seem like she needed a ride. I saw her get out of her van and go into the building.”
    He kept his eyes on the group below. “Yeah, that was weird. I thought I was supposed to give her a ride. Big mix-up, I guess. It happens.” He felt Celia’s eyes on him, but refused to look at her.
    “That doesn’t make any sense.”
    Clint nodded. “Nope, it didn’t make sense to me, either. Well, it’s just one of those things, you know?” He wanted to look at the unhelpful George again but felt certain Celia would manage to catch his eye.
    “Not really,” she said skeptically.
    Clint fell silent. He checked his watch again. More and more people were coming down to the community area. His instincts told him he needed to put distance between himself and Celia before Jenny arrived. He wasn’t quite sure why Jenny’s opinion should matter so much to him, but it did, and he went with his instincts.
    “Well, listen, I’m going to return my coffee cup to the kitchen and make a pit stop. So, I’ll see you two in a few minutes down there.” Clint indicated the community area. He turned away.
    “I’ll go with you,” Celia piped up.
    Clint stopped and turned around. “Well, actually, Celia, I’m going to the bathroom.” He looked at George over her head. Seen only by Clint, George grinned widely.
    “That’s okay. I need to use the ladies’ room, too.” Celia smiled and headed into the kitchen.
    Clint lingered. “Well, you were no help, pal,” he said in a low voice. “I can’t believe this is going to start all over. I can’t go through this stalking thing again this year. I’d rather quit!”
    George clapped a hand on Clint’s back and pushed him toward the kitchen. “Aw, come on, Clint. I’ll protect you.”
    Clint reluctantly entered the kitchen and found Celia waiting patiently. They left their cups on the counter and went out the other door, closest to the restrooms. George and Clint parted from Celia at the wooden steps of the shower building.
    “I’ll meet you back here,” Celia sang out as she hurried off to the ladies’ room.
    “Not if I’m clever,” Clint said. He waited for a moment until she disappeared inside one of the doors. “Okay, that’s it, George. I’m not waiting. I’m going back to my cabin for a minute. Are you coming or going?”
    George’s eyes lingered on the entrance/exit of the women’s restroom.
    “I’ll wait for her, Clint.”
    “You will?” Clint squeezed his hand gratefully.