CHAPTER 17

Travel trailer tip 17: Learn to deal with the fact that your travel trailer won’t have all the conveniences you want. Simplicity can be a great cure for stress.

It was a crazy idea, but I decided to do it anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d done something that was a little questionable. I’d been snooping around for anything connected to Evan’s murder, so what was one more time going to hurt?

Going with Caleb to dinner was definitely questionable behavior. As if that wasn’t enough, now I’d decided to check out his trailer. When Caleb had stopped by mine to return the painting and announced he was headed to the store for some glue for his wood carvings, I knew I had to act right away to go back to his trailer. Maybe I should have said yes so that would have kept him away longer and given me more time to snoop around. I just felt as if I hadn’t gotten a good enough look the first time. Perhaps I had missed something the time before.

I wasn’t going inside his trailer, though. Well, that was unless he left the door open. That would be too risky, though, right? Yes, definitely too risky. I just wanted to walk around to see if there was anything unusual.

I hoped he wasn’t around, because I wouldn’t know what to do it if I saw him. However, I knew he’d gone to the store for a few supplies. He’d stopped by to ask if I needed anything. It was so sweet of him to ask, and I told myself that someone that nice surely wouldn’t be a murderer. Now I was using this time to spy on him. I walked down the path toward Caleb’s trailer. Anxiety danced in my stomach.

Once I reached Caleb’s trailer, I checked to see whether anyone was watching. Everyone around seemed busy and as if they had no clue I was even around. His tools and items were all put away. I inched over to his petite white trailer with the palm tree painted on the side for a peek inside. This thing was even smaller than mine. The Happier Camper, as it was called, was much newer than mine, though. I knew the make and model because I’d looked at one like this before buying my Shasta. Unfortunately, I was too short to see in. Now what? I made my way around the side of the trailer. Maybe there was a window on the back.

I’d just made it around the corner when I almost tripped over a trash can. Thank goodness I managed to remain upright and not land in the thing. Hmm. A trash can. Maybe there was something in there.

Had I really stooped to a whole new low? Now I was snooping around in Caleb’s trash can? My hands shook as I rummaged through the wood scraps and discarded food wrappers. Every few seconds, I peered over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching me. I wasn’t sure what I hoped to find in the garbage. I was desperate for some kind of clue. I wanted something to prove Caleb was innocent more than I wanted something to prove he was guilty.

I dug deeper and spotted fabric. Giving a tug, I pulled out the material and realized it was a yellow T-shirt. I almost tossed it back into the trash when I noticed the stain across the front. I would’ve guessed that the large red mark was paint, but as far as I knew, Caleb didn’t paint his wood carvings. So that led me to only one conclusion: it was blood.

Noise from behind me caught my attention. I spun around, still holding the bloody shirt. This wouldn’t look good at all. Shar was behind me. Her mane of red hair appeared unbrushed, the circles under her eyes even darker. She looked down at my hand. How would I explain this?

“I was just going through the trash looking for some rags. I can always use rags for my paintings.” I attempted a weak smile.

“That doesn’t make sense, but whatever,” she said.

“There’s not much in this one, so I’m out of luck,” I said, now forcing a nervous laugh.

“That’s Caleb’s trash, right?” Shar pointed.

I looked at the trash can. “I suppose. I’m not sure.”

Shar looked as if she had something she wanted to say, but she scanned the area first to make sure no one was listening.

“I saw him that night, you know,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow. “You saw who?”

“Caleb. He was by Evan’s trailer.”

“Yes, I know, he got there right after I found the body,” I said.

“No, I saw him before that. I just didn’t think much of it at the time.”

Why was she at Evan’s trailer to see Caleb in the first place? “Were you going to see Evan about the incident with the tables at your booth?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes. Instead of answering my question, she said, “It seems as if you’re sneaking around Caleb’s trailer.” She eyed me up and down. “Just like the night you found Evan.”

Was she accusing me of something?

Actually, yes, that was exactly what she was doing. Why didn’t she just come out and ask me if I was the killer?

“Well, you’re doing the same thing, so I can ask the same of you,” I said, looking her up and down.

She glared. “How dare you. Are you saying I’m the killer?”

“Are you saying I’m the killer?” I asked.

Shar stared at me as if we were in a showdown. I kept my eyes focused on her. I couldn’t let her see I was scared. I stood tall. Well, as tall as I could at five foot two, and pushed my shoulders back.

After a couple more seconds, she turned on her heel and stomped away. I’d won the stare down, and this confrontation was over.

Now I had to get back to figuring out why Caleb had a bloody shirt in his trash can. Perhaps this was the shirt he had been wearing when Evan was murdered. He could have come back to his trailer, changed clothes quickly, and dumped the shirt into the trash can before coming back to find me. But why would he go back to the scene of the crime after leaving? Unless he had forgotten something. Maybe he’d gone back to collect the murder weapon.

I held the shirt in my hands, examining it, trying to decide exactly what I was looking at. And the more I studied it, the more I thought for sure it was blood. I knew the look of paint on fabric because I had quite a bit of it on my clothing. I would have to show this to Pierce.

The sooner I got out of there, the better off I’d be. I’d only made it a couple of steps when a growl came from somewhere behind me. I froze on the spot. Should I move, run, or stay put? Was it Caleb’s dog, Gum Shoe? He had seemed friendly, but if he thought I was a burglar, maybe he wouldn’t be so nice.

Slowly, I turned around, and my eyes met with the dog’s big brown peepers. The big German shepherd stood there glowering at me. His teeth weren’t showing, which was a plus in my favor.

“Good doggy,” I said in the sweetest voice possible. “Remember me? We met. I’m a good person. I’m not a burglar and certainly not a murderer.”

With his eyes fixed on me, I realized he wasn’t buying my assurances. Even though his glare let me know he was suspicious, I really didn’t think he would bite me, so I decided to just leave him standing there. Though if Gum Shoe was here, where was Caleb? I’d never seen Gum Shoe without his leash or without Caleb.

I needed to get him back to Caleb. What would I do with the shirt? I didn’t have time to make the decision when Gum Shoe raced toward me. I screamed, thinking he was going to clamp down on my leg. But he didn’t grab me. Instead, he went for the shirt in my hand. It was in his mouth now, but I was still holding the other end.

“Let go of that,” I said. “I need that.”

With a tight grip on the shirt, he wasn’t budging. Plus, he was much stronger than me. I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to hold on to the shirt. He was determined to get it from my hands.

“It was in the trash. You didn’t want it anyway,” I said, giving it another yank.

Yeah, I was playing tug-of-war with Gum Shoe for the shirt. Who would win? I was pretty confident it wouldn’t be me. Yet I kept pulling on the shirt, trying to get him to release it.

“I need this shirt,” I said breathlessly. It was evidence and I couldn’t just let it go. I had to get it to Pierce and find out what the red stains were.

The dog growled and shook the shirt. I summoned all my strength. One big tug, and I instantly tumbled back onto the ground, losing my grip on the shirt. Now Gum Shoe had it at his feet as he sat down with his tail wagging. He’d thought we were playing a game all along.

“Celeste, are you all right?” Caleb came running to me.

Oh no. How long had he been watching? How much of that scene had he witnessed? He would see the shirt and wonder what I was doing, trying to get it away from the dog. I’d use the excuse that we’d been playing.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to laugh it off. “We were just playing a little game of tug-of-war.”

Caleb scrunched his brow. Unfortunately, I knew I was going to lose the shirt because Caleb looked right at it. I climbed to my feet and brushed off my shorts.

“I don’t know how he got that,” Caleb said as he hurriedly reached down and grabbed the shirt.

Once he had it, he crumpled up the fabric so I couldn’t see the stain on the front. Now he was acting suspicious, as if he was trying to hide something, but why? There was only one explanation I could think of.

“I suppose I should get back to my booth.” I gestured over my shoulder.

Caleb frowned. “You came by to play with Gum Shoe?”

“I just stopped by to see how you were doing. Unfortunately, I have to get back now, though. I’ll see you soon.” My weak smile probably didn’t seem genuine.

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

As I turned and hurried away, I knew he was still watching me.