Murder Hits the Road: A Cookie and Cream Cozy Mystery, #5

Chapter 1

Old was a state of mind, pure and simple.

Then again, when Cookie woke up every morning with some new ache or pain and with her bones playing castanets, it was hard not to believe old wasn’t just in the mind. It was also in the body.

She laughed softly at that somewhat depressing thought and rolled over in bed, wrapping an arm over Jerry’s shoulder. Having a man like this to warm her up every night certainly made her feel young at heart, even if her mind and body were feeling something else. Her husband was the love of her life, and love had no age.

She was a very young sixty-five, she decided. Best to leave it at that.

And to think, she was on her honeymoon. She was driving around the country by motorhome, spending endless hours alone with the man she loved. Could life possibly get any better?

Karen Stansted—Cookie to her friends—had always wanted to travel and see the world. Widow’s Rest was her hometown, a dot on the map so small that even Google Maps had trouble finding it. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Google could find anywhere.

Still, it was just a little bitty place in a great big world. As much as she loved living in Widow’s Rest, seeing the same streets and the same houses and the same people, day in and day out, it had started to make her feel a little claustrophobic. She owned the only bakery in town and the demands of running her own business kept her in the store every day, baking and selling and working her fingers to the bone. Her apartment was on the top floor of the bakery, for crying out loud. Although now she was married that situation was changing.

Jerry had his own pressures as the town’s police chief. This trip had given him the first good nights of sleep he’d had in a long time.

People depended on them, and that meant they hardly ever got to leave Widow’s Rest. This break was exactly what she needed. Now, for the next two weeks, she and Jerry would be able to take time just for themselves.

Jerry stirred in his sleep, snuggling up closer to her in the motorhome’s surprisingly spacious bed. She was glad for the extra room on the mattress. She was certainly no Barbie doll and hadn’t been for years. Jerry was a tall man, his body lean but strong, and together they pretty much filled up the space under the covers. She watched him gently snoring, peaceful and content, and ran her fingers through his thick white hair. She was his wife, and he was her husband.

My, how she loved to say that.

From the foot of the bed, the other passenger of the motorhome let out a soft bark. It wasn’t just her and Jerry on the trip. It was also their little furry chihuahua friend. He must have heard her moving around and now he was lifting his head up to see what the commotion was. Cream was a good little dog, but he was used to living in their apartment back in Widow’s Rest. There wasn’t much room in the RV for a dog as energetic as he was. Oh, they stopped every so often for bathroom breaks and meals and just to stretch their legs. They gave Cream lots of chances to enjoy the new parts of the world they were visiting. Still, it wasn’t the same as being home.

Now he whuffed again, and got up on his feet, turning around in circles. She knew what that meant. It was early according to the bedside clock, but the sun had just come up. It was time for Cream to take a walk.

Okay, Cream, all right, she whispered. Jerry’s still asleep but you and I can go greet the day. How does that sound?

He danced on little chihuahua legs as Cookie untangled herself from Jerry and then got herself out of the bed. It took some doing because the bed was positioned up against the back wall of the RV and her side was the inside. She had to find creative ways of climbing over her husband that didn’t wake him up but no matter how she tried she kept sliding her bare skin against his. It was a very pleasant sensation.

If she didn’t have to help Cream take care of his bladder, she might have accidentally woken Jerry up. Well. There would be time for that later.

That was one of the best parts of being married, in Cookie’s honest opinion.

She quietly got dressed in sweatpants and a nice pink sweater over a white tank top. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone this morning. She just wanted to get her doggie friend outside, so he could do his business. There would be time to shower and get dressed properly later. In the mirror above the bathroom sink, however, she made sure to run a brush through her white hair and give her face a quick scrub with a washcloth. Just because they were on vacation didn’t mean she was going to let herself completely turn into a cavewoman.

Cream was prancing at the door by the time she brought his leash over and hooked it to his harness. He still had the energy of a puppy even though his white coat had begun to turn yellow around the roots with his age. Well. They were getting to grow old together. Her, and Cream, and Jerry.

The rest of her family were busy with their own lives back home. She had a daughter, and a wonderful granddaughter, but this trip was just for her and Jerry. Their honeymoon. Not something you invited your children to join you on, no matter how much you loved them.

Their honeymoon had actually been a long time coming. Her wedding to Jerry had been postponed for months, for reasons that really didn’t matter anymore. Then Jerry had accepted the position of the police chief for Widow’s Rest. Life had been so busy for them. She’d been worried that Jerry wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to give her a real honeymoon, but here they were, and she was going to enjoy it to the fullest.

Outside, she stepped into warm sunshine in a clear June morning. The RV park where they had spent the night was the Whispering Maples Caravan and RV Park, and it might be the best one they had found yet. It was a clean and orderly place, attended to by employees, day and night, and nearly every hookup station was in use. The driveway ended in a semicircle, a cul-de-sac of parked Airstreams and Starcraft models and several different RV types that Cookie had never heard of. Birds sang out in trees all around, and the grass that came right up to the paved cul-de-sac was mowed to an even field of jade green. Spring was here, and summer was right around the corner. It was a beautiful scene and Cookie was so full of rich, happy feelings that she was just about ready to burst.

Cream started right for the trees, prancing up the paved walkway from the parking area, his little tail batting at the air furiously. They slipped past the motorhomes, and the couple of cars that were mixed in with those, and then they were moving just as fast as stubby chihuahua legs could take them.

Be patient, my friend, she suggested. There’s several nice maple trees out there. After all, this place is called Whispering Maples! See all the trees? I know how much you love the maples.

He barked his agreement, sniffing the air and leading Cookie around by the leash just as much as she was leading him. He went from tree to tree, looking for the perfect place to call his bathroom. Cookie didn’t rush him. These things took time.

Even though the sun had only just come up, they weren’t the only ones out here. Cookie saw Stacia Ferris coming back along the same path, heading back to the parking area. She must have already walked her dog through the forested area of hills around the Whispering Maples. The little Jack Russell terrier was prancing at the end of his leash as they got closer to Cookie and Cream.

Stacia was someone she and Jerry had met on their travels. She was tall and slender and half of Cookie’s age but that didn’t matter. They had become good friends, along with her husband Ernesto. Stacia’s feathered, short hair was naturally that red. She wore far too much makeup in Cookie’s opinion, but it looked good on her. Under normal circumstances the two of them would move in such different circles that they wouldn’t have ever met, let alone become friends. Now, they were travelling companions.

It turned out that travelling by motorhome was a lot like riding the current on a river. Just like boats on a river all ended up moving in the same direction, people travelling on vacation in motorhomes all flowed from RV park to RV park together. Cookie and Jerry had been to three other overnight stops in the last week where Stacia and Ernesto had also been. It hadn’t taken them long to become friends. It was like they were sharing their road trip together. Ernesto was older than Stacia, in fact, closer to Cookie and Jerry’s age. They were an odd pairing, those two, but Cookie didn’t mind. The four of them had hit it off right away.

Good morning, Cookie! Stacia greeted her, adding a big wave of her free hand. The other held tight to the leash of her dog as Boxer the Jack Russel terrier continued to bounce around. It’s going to be a gorgeous day, don’t you think?

It is, it definitely is. They gave each other a quick hug as the dogs greeted each other by touching noses. Where’s that husband of yours? Is Ernesto still sleeping?

Oh, for sure. He’s not a spring chicken anymore, as he likes to point out any chance he gets. So, I’m out here all by myself. Ernesto doesn’t like to take Boxer for walks anyway. He prefers to sleep in. You know how men are.

Sure do! My Jerry’s still in bed, too.

You’d think they stayed out all night hunting wild pancakes for our breakfast, or something. It’s like they’ve never had a chance to sleep in before and now they won’t have it any other way.

Cookie laughed at that. Isn’t that the truth.

Yes. In fact, Stacia said bitterly, I’m not sure we’ll be doing much of anything at all today. I know we haven’t reached our final destination yet and we have all this driving to do, but I wish we could do more along the way. Stop and see some sights. Catch a movie, even. I have a feeling that Ernesto and I might just decide to spend the whole day inside our motorhome.

Oh, really? Cookie couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. I talked my Jerry into taking us to the American Heritage museum today. It’s just a few hours up the road. I was hoping we might all meet up there. Us, you and Ernesto, Penny and Franky, maybe even Humphrey.

Ha! Stacia laughed, pressing her hand to her throat in amusement. You mean old Grumpus? He hates the whole wide world. You should have seen him yelling at my Ernesto last night. I swear Humphrey waved his stick at him like he was going to use it like a baseball bat. I seriously doubt you could get that man to go anywhere that didn’t have wine in boxes and little kids for him to scare off his lawn with that big walking stick of his.

Cookie smiled because she knew it was true. Although she was sure that grumpus wasn’t a real word, she was just as sure that in the case of Humphrey Middlestead, Stacia was using it correctly. He was an ornery old coot who apparently needed to be around other people just so they could see how unfriendly he could be. She couldn’t think of any other reason why the old grumpus would be taking a vacation.

Well, Cookie said with a shrug, maybe he just needs someone to be nice to him. There are people out there who get so scared of being alone that they push everyone away and make their greatest fear come true.

Not Humphrey. You heard the part about him threatening us with his cane, right? Of course, last night wasn’t the first time he’d threatened us. Me and Ernesto have done this trip to Titan’s Gorge five years running now. Every year, Humphrey ends up going the same way as us in that ugly green Airstream of his. We’ve tried being nice to him. We’ve tried ignoring him. He’s never changed. He just hates the world. So, we just try to do our own thing but he’s always there. Just like he is now. He showed up last night in that ugly motorhome and just sat outside in his chair, growling at the world. Then he was walking by our place, and that was when the argument started. We had to go inside to get away from him.

Cookie nodded. From what she had seen of the man Stacia was exactly right about Humphrey. Still, she liked to think there was good in everyone, even if it was just a little bit.

She was an eternal optimist at heart.

Titan’s Gorge was actually where they were all heading. It hadn’t been planned that way, it just happened, like she’d been saying to herself earlier. Like boats caught in a current. The gorge was a big tourist attraction in its own right, even if it would never attract the sorts of crowds that went to the Grand Canyon out in Arizona, or Royal Gorge in Colorado.

On their way there, they were all making stops at places of interest and Cookie had been looking forward to the American Heritage museum for days now. Getting Jerry to go to a museum, even one that specialized in early Americana, had taken some real convincing. Now that he’d finally said yes, she didn’t want to pass it up, but she wanted her new friends to come with her. It just wouldn’t be as much fun without them.

Cream whined at her feet, dancing back and forth while Stacia’s terrier, Boxer, sniffed at him, wondering what was wrong. They looked each other in the eyes, and some silent conversation occurred between them before they both turned to look up at Cookie and give a single, harmonized bark.

Yes, you’re right, Cookie said to both of them. I was on the way to give Cream a bathroom break and I got sidetracked. Shame on me. You’re a good friend, Boxer, looking out for Cream like that.

Stacia bent and picked her terrier up in her arms. Yes, he is a good dog, isn’t he? Yes he is. She hugged Boxer to her chest, and he licked her chin excitedly. "Well, we should let them go, then. Isn’t that right, Boxer? Isn’t that