As the cousins approached the campsite from the street, Judith could see an RCMP cruiser parked at the curb. “Now what?” she muttered. “Can you spot Brewster anywhere?”
“Not with all that shrubbery,” Renie replied. “You can pull in behind the cop car where it says No Parking.”
“The last thing I need is a ticket. I’ll make a U-turn up ahead and park across the street. If Brewster—or another Mountie—is with the Stokes crew, I probably won’t get busted.”
After parking the SUV, the cousins jaywalked across the street. Judith’s rationale was that there were no other cops in sight and Brewster was preoccupied with the Stokes family at the campsite.
They spotted Brewster, but he was accompanied by Constable MacRae. They were directing their attention to what appeared to be the entire Stokes family, including the Odells.
“Damn!” Judith said softly as they stood by the shrubbery. “Can you hear what they’re saying?”
Renie shook her head. “If we hid in these shrubs, maybe we could.”
“The shrubs aren’t tall enough,” Judith said. “I can’t really bend down with my phony hip. We’ll just have to barge right in.”
Renie emitted a low groan but didn’t argue.
MacRae was the first to notice the cousins. His ruddy face was puzzled as he stepped away to confront them. “Pardon me, but this is an official investigation. I have to ask you to leave the area.”
Judith was stymied. Apparently, Brewster hadn’t informed his fellow officer of the cousins’ sleuthing. Renie, however, smiled and shook her finger at him. “Now, now, Constable MacRae,” she said in an unusually pleasant voice, “I don’t think your superior would like that.” She moved closer to the Mountie and whispered in his ear.
MacRae jumped a bit. “Seriously?” He stared at Judith and his face turned almost crimson. “I’m sorry, I’ve been off for the last few days. I had no idea. Oh my!” He goggled at Judith. “Is it true there’s a FASTO comic book about you?”
“Not yet released for publication,” Judith replied with a kindly smile, despite being horrified at the mere idea. “Maybe after the first of the year. Would you mind telling us what’s going on here?”
But Brewster had seen the cousins and he gestured at them. Whatever he’d been saying to the Stokes family had left them with a variety of reactions: Pa’s stoicism, Ma’s irritation, Teddy’s sheepishness, Martha Lou’s consternation, Ada’s indignation, and the Odells’ mutual dismay. Only Trixie seemed oddly at ease. But then Judith realized she wasn’t part of the family. Or was she?
MacRae regained his aplomb. “It’s a very queer case. I’ll let Sergeant Brewster explain it to you.”
But his fellow officer was reluctant. “Before I can tell you anything, I have to contact Inspector Colbert.” Brewster removed his hat and ran a hand through his thick hair. “It’s a confounding situation.”
“Yes,” Judith agreed. “Shall we join you at the office in half an hour?”
Brewster hesitated. “I suppose you could. I have to find out what the inspector thinks, eh?” He put his hat back on and motioned for MacRae to follow him away from the encampment.
“Our turn,” Judith said under her breath as she moved toward the now-glum family gathered at the picnic table. She considered speaking first to Pa, but decided Ada was a better choice. “What did your family tell the Mounties?”
Ada’s eyes flashed at her kinfolk. “The truth.”
“I thought so.” Judith saw what looked like alarm in Ada’s eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t press you. I’ll let Brewster tell me.”
“Maybe he won’t,” Ada said.
Judith shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” She smiled kindly at the young woman. “I already know.”
Renie stalked off, apparently heading for the SUV. Judith knew she was irked about not confiding in her cousin that she’d come to understand what was going on with the case, but it had only been in the last hour that everything had started to come together. And there were still some gaps.
Still, Judith hesitated. Maybe she should first talk to Ma and Pa. No, she thought, they still won’t tell me the truth. She headed for the shrubbery.
Renie was sitting in the passenger seat looking miffed. “Well?” she said when Judith slid into the SUV.
“I wasn’t sure until now,” Judith replied, only fibbing by three-quarters of an hour, but still feeling remorse. She’d almost always been candid with her cousin. “Okay, so it was a little longer, but not by much. It was John Smith who enlightened me.”
Renie stared. “John Smith? How?”
“Because I think he’s the real Codger.”
“Well.” Renie thought about it for a moment or two. “I admit I had to wonder. But why stick around?”
“That’s why we’re going back to see Brewster. I have a feeling only he can tell us who Codger—the dead one—really is.”
Renie decided not to query her cousin further. She sensed when the sleuthing wheels were turning in Judith’s brain. Before Judith could turn the ignition key, a female voice called to them. A sheepish-looking Ada was hurrying to the SUV.
“I want to apologize,” she said, leaning into the open window on the driver’s side. “I never wanted any part of this charade. Neither did Dela and Norm. I’m not going to try to explain why Ma and Pa did this and the rest of them went along with it, because it makes no difference now that they’ve been found out. Anyway, I’m sorry if they caused you any problems.”
“I suppose we could guess,” Judith said.
Ada made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t bother. It’s over. At least I hope so. Once we get back to Big Stove, I hope we can forget any of this happened.” She whirled around and rushed back through the shrubbery.
Renie gave Judith a quirky look. “Okay, FASTO, tell me this—why was Trixie looking so pleased with herself?”
“Because,” Judith replied in an ironic tone, “she got what she came for, even if it wasn’t what she expected. She’s found a man with money.”
Renie was faintly aghast. “Teddy?”
“It’s not Codger,” Judith replied. “I’m calling Doris Draper. I think she can answer my question.”
Renie noted the time on the SUV’s clock: 4:25. “Won’t she be at work?”
“I’ll leave a message she can’t refuse to answer,” Judith said, tapping in the number. As expected, the call went to voice mail. “Judith McMonigle here. We met the elder Mr. Stokes. Why did you tell me the family was going to California? Please call me and explain that or my editor won’t include your family’s farm in the magazine article. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Wow,” Renie said softly. “That was a really big fib. I might lose my editor’s job at Cornucopia.”
Judith smiled. “I think your job is safe since . . .” She paused as a pickup truck pulled up alongside of them and stopped. “Now what? I can’t pull out.”
“It’s Mr. Barnes,” Renie said, twisting in the seat to get a better view. “He’s getting out of the truck. Maybe he doesn’t think we really know how to drive.”
Judith saw him coming to her side of the SUV and reluctantly rolled down the window. “Yes?” she said as he wedged his burly body between the two vehicles.
“Where’s my damned maid?” he shouted. “Trixie O’Hara’s disappeared! I’m told you two were the last ones to see her at the motel.”
“We probably were,” Judith replied calmly. “She’s been ill, you know. We left her sleeping last night.”
Barnes’s scowl deepened. “The room’s empty. I even checked the bathroom. Everything’s cleared out. I hear you two spent quite a bit of time with her. She’d already been in the hospital a day or so. I can’t keep an employee who either gets sick or runs away. Come on, you must have some idea where she went.”
Judith debated whether to tell him the truth or fib. She decided on something in between. “Why don’t you ask those people who are camping on the property beyond the motel?”
“That crowd? Pah!” He made a disparaging gesture. “I’d rather talk to a bunch of donkeys. And somebody should tell that freckle-faced broad to stay way from my motel!”
Judith assumed he meant Martha Lou. “Your motel, your call,” she said. “But they’re close enough to the motel that they may’ve seen Trixie leave.”
Barnes rubbed the side of his bald head. “Well . . . maybe I’ll give it a shot.” He turned away and went back to the pickup.
Renie laughed. “I’d almost like to be there when he confronts the Stokes folks. But that’s probably a bad idea. Where to now?”
Judith didn’t respond right away. Her brain was coping with a sudden insight. “I wonder if Martha Lou is responsible for the meandering money. It sounds like the kind of weird thing she might do.”
“Malicious mischief,” Renie murmured. “At least she didn’t steal it.”
“True.” But Judith’s brain was moving in a different direction. “I hate to do it, but we have to talk to Sergeant Brewster about a more pressing matter.”
At a little after four thirty, the rush hour hadn’t yet started. Judith pulled in behind the police station. They found Brewster and MacRae behind the counter, though the younger Mountie was on the phone. Judith approached the senior officer with a deferential expression. Brewster, in turn, looked on guard. “Yes?” he said after a moment’s hesitation.
“There’s something I have to know before we head home,” Judith began, and took a deep breath. “Who was the dead man called Codger?”
Brewster raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “We don’t know. What little DNA we could get from the tent turned out to be a John Doe.”
Judith nodded. “That’s what I thought. But the family insists otherwise, right?”
Briefly, Brewster avoided her eyes. “Yes.”
Judith nodded again. “Would you think I was out of line if I suggested the man they sent down the river may have been dead before they came to Banff?”
The sergeant looked jarred. So did MacRae, who had gotten off the phone. “Pardon?” said Brewster.
“You never saw the body.” Judith paused. “Of course, the poor old man couldn’t be identified as anybody but a John Doe. I doubt that the Stokeses knew who he was.”
Brewster grimaced. “You mean . . . the ridiculous plan to send . . . the body down the river was a hoax?”
Judith shook her head. “No. The body may eventually be found along the river or else it washed out to sea. The whole sorry idea was a cover-up for something else, but I’m not exactly sure what. I’m waiting for a phone call from Big Stove.”
“I see.” But Brewster didn’t really look satisfied. “You will let me know if you find out, eh?”
“I promise,” Judith replied with a smile, then turned around and realized that Renie wasn’t anywhere in sight. Apparently, her cousin hadn’t followed her inside the RCMP headquarters. Judith hurried out the back way to the parking lot.
“Hi,” Renie greeted her from where she was standing next to the SUV. “Are you done solving the case for the Mounties?”
Judith expelled a sigh. “Are you mad at me?”
“No.” Renie laughed. “I knew what you were going to tell them. Unlike you, I can take a break from sleuthing.”
Relieved, Judith opened the door on the driver’s side. She’d barely slipped behind the wheel when her cell phone rang. “Now what?” she murmured. “Hello?”
The female voice was faint. “Doris?” Judith said.
“Mrs. McMonigle?” The volume rose slightly at the other end of the line. “It’s me, Doris. You called?”
“I did,” Judith said before continuing in a brisk, businesslike voice: “At Cornucopia, we strive for accuracy and honesty.” She ignored Renie, who was rolling her eyes. “You told me that your relatives were going to California. Was that a lie?”
A sharp intake of breath was heard at the other end of the line. “No. That is, they told me they were going to Disneyland. But I found out it wasn’t true. Instead, they went to Canada.”
Judith exchanged glances with Renie, who was leaning in to hear the conversation. “To Banff in Alberta?”
“Yes.” Doris’s sigh was audible. “Then . . .” She couldn’t seem to continue. “Grandpa Stokes disappeared somewhere outside of Spearfish, South Dakota. They looked all over for him, but he’d . . . just . . . disappeared.” Doris began to sniffle and snuffle.
“I gather the family gave up trying to find him?” Judith asked after a pause to let Doris get herself under control.
“Umm . . .” Doris cleared her throat. “Yes. It started to get dark. They thought they were near the Badlands. Cornelius—my uncle—felt that area might be dangerous and if Grandpa—Codger—had wandered off there, they’d never find him. Instead, they kept going north. I guess they thought Grandpa—Codger—would’ve liked that. He’d talked about a river he wanted to see up there.”
Judith bit her lip and looked at Renie, who shook her head in a disdainful way. “You shouldn’t give up on your grandfather,” Judith said. “He may’ve wanted to do some exploring on his own. Given his nickname, I suspect he’s a strong-minded old guy.”
“Well . . . that’s true,” Doris replied. “Anything’s possible, I guess. Thanks for the encouraging words. I’ll tell my husband that when he gets home.”
After exchanging good-byes, Judith put a hand on her forehead. “Whew! Doris bought it. I wonder if Codger will go home after the rest of the family does.”
Renie shrugged. “I wouldn’t. He’d be better off to stay here and apply for Canadian citizenship.”
“He should live so long.”
“He’s working on it,” Renie noted. “My money’s on him.”
“Well . . .” Judith frowned. “Money. This whole caper must be about money.”
“Aunt Ellen told you that most big corn farmers are rich.”
“Right,” Judith agreed, “but that doesn’t mean their children and grandchildren are, too. The Stokeses live together on the farm. They’re provided for, but that doesn’t mean any of them have money of their own.”
“A tight rein,” Renie murmured. “So what’s your latest zany plan?”
Judith sighed. “I don’t have one. But we can’t sit here in the RCMP parking lot.” She paused. “Maybe a sneak attack would work.”
Renie held her head. “Good grief. So we can get busted by Brewster for assault?”
“We need an accomplice,” Judith said, backing the SUV out of its parking place. “Someone Trixie trusts. Jenny or Niall or . . .” She paused, braking for a group of young people who were dressed in Bavarian costumes.
“A band?” Renie suggested.
Judith was lost in thought. “What?”
“Never mind. Just keep plotting.”
“I don’t like going back to the motel,” Judith said. “I’d rather not run into Mr. Barnes. It’s after five. I wonder who’s on duty. I’ll call and find out. No, I’ve got to get out of this parking lot first. You call.”
Renie groaned. “I get stuck with all the dog work.” But she dug out the cell from her purse. “What’s the number?”
“Look at your bill,” Judith said, pulling into traffic behind a camper with a Texas license plate.
Renie rummaged some more in her giant purse and found the receipt, then tapped in the number. A breathless Jenny answered.
“Hi,” Renie said in an unusually chipper tone. “Former guest Serena Jones here. Are you coming off duty, by any chance?”
“I am,” Jenny replied, sounding wary. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“It’s Mrs. Flynn who needs you,” Renie said. “Could you meet us behind the motel in five minutes?”
“Well . . . I guess I could. Is something wrong?”
“Not exactly,” Renie said with an ironic glance at Judith. “My cousin will tell you when we get there. We’re just leaving RCMP headquarters. See you.”
Judith grimaced. “Did you have to say that about the cops?”
“Why not? At least Jenny knows we haven’t been busted. Look out for the skateboarder.”
The skateboarder was avoided. Renie glanced up at the two gondola cars above the town. One was going up and the other was coming down. “Hey,” she said, “why don’t we top off our visit with a gondola ride before we have dinner?”
“You can’t afford it and neither can I,” Judith shot back as she turned off Lynx Street. “I’m getting low on funds, too. Besides, you’ve forgotten how I got sick and threw up on the Ferris wheel at Playland. Dad had to make them stop the ride so he could haul me off.”
Renie looked thoughtful. “Hmm. How come he didn’t ask me to go along?”
“You were probably already sick,” Judith responded. “You had even more allergies than I did, especially to food. I never missed as much school as you . . .” She paused as they approached the motel. “There’s Mr. Barnes pulling out from the parking lot. Good, we won’t have to run into him again.”
“Too bad you can’t run over him,” Renie remarked. “He’s probably going to another one of the motels he owns.”
“Maybe Barnes is checking out the Stokes gang,” Judith said. “I wonder if he charged them to park on his property. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“He should charge them. They can afford it.” Renie gazed up at the mountains looming above them. “Am I looking up at Mount Revelstoke or Mount Eisenhower?”
“How do I know?” Judith shot back. “I’m lucky I can identify some of the mountains at home.”
They’d reached the motel. Judith drove around to the rear entrance, but didn’t pull into a parking place. Jenny was pacing back and forth on the walkway when she recognized the SUV and came over to the driver’s side. Judith rolled down the window.
“I’ll make this quick,” she said. “How well do you know Trixie?”
Jenny frowned. “Not all that well. She only started work here a little over a week ago and then she got sick. Why do you ask?”
“Because she may be in danger,” Judith replied. “That Stokes bunch at the camp behind the motel made off with her. Probably twice, in fact. Did she ever mention them to you?”
“Well . . . not exactly,” Jenny said. “Aren’t the Odells related to the campers?”
Judith nodded. “Mrs. Odell is. But I think Mr. and Mrs. Odell are decent people. Did they ever mention an old man who’s staying at the Banff Springs Hotel?”
“Not to me,” Jenny replied. “I did overhear them talking about her crazy relatives, though. Mrs. Odell sounded as if they were trying to scam somebody. But I don’t know who.”
“What about Mr. Barnes?” Judith shielded her eyes from the sun that was shining through the windshield. “Did he say anything about the Stokes family?”
Jenny shook her head. “Niall did tell me that Mr. Barnes went to see them, though. They’d set themselves up on his property.”
“Did he insist they pay him?”
“I don’t know. Really.” Jenny’s expression was apologetic. “He might have. I guess he’s entitled to it, since he owns the land, eh?”
“Right.” Judith smiled. “You’ll be heading back to Vancouver soon. Good luck with your studies.”
“Thanks.” Jenny made a face. “I was promised a bonus from Mr. Barnes, but Niall says it won’t happen. He insists Barnes is the original Scrooge, living in one of his other motels, the Banff Springs Edelweiss.”
Renie had been quiet long enough. “How does Mrs. Barnes feel about living in a motel?”
“There is no Mrs. Barnes,” Jenny replied. “He lives with his sister, who’s also his accountant. She’s as greedy as he is when it comes to money.” Jenny took a quick look around her. “I should go. Some new arrivals need my parking space. Have a safe trip home.” She hurried off to her car.
“Well,” Judith said with a wry expression. “Now that I think about it, when we saw them at the restaurant, Ms. Barnes looked as unpleasant as he does. It must run in the family.”
“Speaking of restaurants,” Renie said, “now that you flunked getting Jenny to be your spy, why—”
“I merely wanted to get her take on Trixie,” Judith interrupted. “She didn’t seem to have one.”
“Don’t fib to me,” Renie retorted. “You also wanted her to snoop around the Stokes folks. She’d probably say no. I’ll say the same if you suggest it to me, okay?”
Judith knew when she couldn’t push her cousin too hard. “Okay, I won’t. Yes, we should have dinner. It’s early enough that we can probably get seated at a place that doesn’t cost an arm and a leg.”
Renie leaned back in the seat. “That was easy.” Too easy, she thought, and wondered what Judith had on her always curious mind.