Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 01 - Trouble at Happy Trails by Minnie Crockwell Page A
Authors: Minnie Crockwell
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a rig here. I like to keep a campground host on the premises, but it’s been hard finding a host to come back year after year.”
“You’re only open from April to October, right? So, you could go work here in the summer and go south to golf all winter long.”
“I might just do that!” he grinned attractively. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Oh, I was just stopping by to introduce myself,” I said airily. “I’m doing laundry next door.”
He nodded. I waited for him to say something about the event, but for some reason, he didn’t. Discretion really wasn’t one of my strongest qualities, so I forged on.
“I saw Sally earlier. She was picking up a few things.”
He nodded again and looked beyond me to the park. I turned to follow his eyes, but nothing moved in the park. Was he giving me the polite brush off? I turned back.
“Well, I’d better get back to my laundry. It was nice meeting you,” I said.
“You too,” he said. “Enjoy your stay.”
I turned and rolled my eyes. Okay, so he was discreet…or worried about the reputation of his park. But “enjoy your stay” was a bit much, in my opinion. Clearly, he knew I hadn’t really enjoyed the first night of my stay.
I finished my laundry and returned to my RV. After putting my clothes away, I made myself a sandwich and plopped down onto the couch to eat it. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and exhaustion had caught up with me. My eyelids drooped, and I dozed.
I woke up to see the time on the microwave read 6 p.m. I sat upright. I’d never get back to sleep tonight!
“Why did you let me sleep so long, Ben?” I rose and stretched.
You needed your rest, Minerva. I did not like to awaken you.
I looked around the RV wondering what to do next. Supper, I supposed. My laptop computer caught my eye, and I went over and turned it on to see who was doing what on social media. And maybe to see if John had emailed me back. Wait! I hadn’t emailed him back. I couldn’t believe it. I dashed off a quick response to his email. He seemed to prefer short and sweet, so short it was.
One and Only Ex,
Whoops! Forgot to get back to you. So much going on around here, and I’ve barely been at this RV park for 24 hours! It seems the dearly departed and deceased Carl had been sleeping around. Hearts are broken everywhere, and murderous glints are in everyone’s eyes. I’m not even sure the dear widow isn’t involved. Things wrapped in plastic have been thrown into sewer pipes, and accusations of guilt run rampant.
The police have failed to contact me with a report of their investigation and findings. Imagine that!
I remain your
Ex-Wife
I reread the email, grinned and sent it off. Ben’s old-fashioned vernacular was rubbing off on me. I didn’t know if John would respond or not the following day, sometimes he just didn’t, and that would be the end of our correspondence until I sent him something new in a few months.
Is that a portrait of me, Minerva?
I jumped. I should have been used to Ben’s presence but sometimes I just forgot he was there.
“You didn’t read my email, did you, Ben?”
No.
His monosyllabic answer surprised me. He was usually so free with his words, using more than most to say the same thing.
“Oh! Okay. Where?” I looked at my computer screen. I had forgotten I had copied and saved the portrait of Peregrine Ebenezer Alvord onto my computer screen
“Yes, that is you.” I studied the portrait—the long dark sideburns that traveled almost to his chin, the thickness of his black hair, the aquamarine of his eyes, the dimple in his chin.
Handsome, handsome man. I sighed inwardly. Such a shame.
Yes, I think so, too. He chuckled. That it is a shame I passed so early in life, not that I consider myself particularly handsome.
He made a sound as if he was clearing his throat.
So, you know what I look like then. How long have you known?
“I found this page a couple of months ago, just after
“You’re only open from April to October, right? So, you could go work here in the summer and go south to golf all winter long.”
“I might just do that!” he grinned attractively. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Oh, I was just stopping by to introduce myself,” I said airily. “I’m doing laundry next door.”
He nodded. I waited for him to say something about the event, but for some reason, he didn’t. Discretion really wasn’t one of my strongest qualities, so I forged on.
“I saw Sally earlier. She was picking up a few things.”
He nodded again and looked beyond me to the park. I turned to follow his eyes, but nothing moved in the park. Was he giving me the polite brush off? I turned back.
“Well, I’d better get back to my laundry. It was nice meeting you,” I said.
“You too,” he said. “Enjoy your stay.”
I turned and rolled my eyes. Okay, so he was discreet…or worried about the reputation of his park. But “enjoy your stay” was a bit much, in my opinion. Clearly, he knew I hadn’t really enjoyed the first night of my stay.
I finished my laundry and returned to my RV. After putting my clothes away, I made myself a sandwich and plopped down onto the couch to eat it. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and exhaustion had caught up with me. My eyelids drooped, and I dozed.
I woke up to see the time on the microwave read 6 p.m. I sat upright. I’d never get back to sleep tonight!
“Why did you let me sleep so long, Ben?” I rose and stretched.
You needed your rest, Minerva. I did not like to awaken you.
I looked around the RV wondering what to do next. Supper, I supposed. My laptop computer caught my eye, and I went over and turned it on to see who was doing what on social media. And maybe to see if John had emailed me back. Wait! I hadn’t emailed him back. I couldn’t believe it. I dashed off a quick response to his email. He seemed to prefer short and sweet, so short it was.
One and Only Ex,
Whoops! Forgot to get back to you. So much going on around here, and I’ve barely been at this RV park for 24 hours! It seems the dearly departed and deceased Carl had been sleeping around. Hearts are broken everywhere, and murderous glints are in everyone’s eyes. I’m not even sure the dear widow isn’t involved. Things wrapped in plastic have been thrown into sewer pipes, and accusations of guilt run rampant.
The police have failed to contact me with a report of their investigation and findings. Imagine that!
I remain your
Ex-Wife
I reread the email, grinned and sent it off. Ben’s old-fashioned vernacular was rubbing off on me. I didn’t know if John would respond or not the following day, sometimes he just didn’t, and that would be the end of our correspondence until I sent him something new in a few months.
Is that a portrait of me, Minerva?
I jumped. I should have been used to Ben’s presence but sometimes I just forgot he was there.
“You didn’t read my email, did you, Ben?”
No.
His monosyllabic answer surprised me. He was usually so free with his words, using more than most to say the same thing.
“Oh! Okay. Where?” I looked at my computer screen. I had forgotten I had copied and saved the portrait of Peregrine Ebenezer Alvord onto my computer screen
“Yes, that is you.” I studied the portrait—the long dark sideburns that traveled almost to his chin, the thickness of his black hair, the aquamarine of his eyes, the dimple in his chin.
Handsome, handsome man. I sighed inwardly. Such a shame.
Yes, I think so, too. He chuckled. That it is a shame I passed so early in life, not that I consider myself particularly handsome.
He made a sound as if he was clearing his throat.
So, you know what I look like then. How long have you known?
“I found this page a couple of months ago, just after
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