Free Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 03 - Trouble at Glacier by Minnie Crockwell

appear to be in need of bathing and grooming. However, we know nothing about him, and I renew my pleas to you to avoid this stranger.
    “Hmmm…” I murmured. “I can’t, Ben. I want to talk to him at least.”
    You are a stubborn woman, Minerva.
    “Me? Stubborn?” I said with a grin. “Okay, just a bit.”
    He awakens and appears to have spotted you. Remain near the road. Do not approach him, Minerva.
    “Okay,” I said reluctantly. I bent down and nonchalantly studied a fuchsia-colored fireweed by the side of the road.  
    The man stepped out of his tent and stretched.
    He sees you. I believe he is acting as if he does not, Ben said.
    I’ll have to press the issue, I guess, I said.
    “Hello!” I called out as I nodded toward the tall stalk of the fireweed. “Looks like the end of summer is almost here. The blossoms of the fireweed have just about reached the top of the stalk.”
    I didn’t remember where I read that information, probably a travel guide to Alaska during my years as an armchair traveler, but it came in handy in a pinch.
    The tousled auburn-headed man approached, rubbing his unkempt beard.
    “Yeah, looks like it. Too bad! Seems like it just got here.” He kept his eyes on the plant and did not meet my eyes.
    For all that the young man—I deduced he was about thirty—appeared to be down and out, he spoke clearly. I scanned his clothing and saw the staining that both Rick and Ben had mentioned. His tattered originally beige-colored cargo shorts bore streaks on the legs, as if he wiped his hands on them. A dark brown streak stained his tan shirt.  
    I had to think of something to say while I had him here.
    “Are you tent camping around here?” he asked. He slid his gaze toward me.
    Thankfully, I was able to say no. I didn’t think I would feel safe in a tent at this point. I dived in to stir things up.
    “So, I suppose you heard about the murder the other night.”
    “Yeah, I did. Too bad.” He shrugged his shoulders, giving me the impression that he didn’t actually think the murder it was ‘too bad.”
    “Yeah,” I murmured. “Brutal. I don’t think they’ve caught the guy yet.” I sounded like such a gossip, but how else was I going to get him to say something pertinent?
    He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked up and down the road as if searching for something.  
    “I’m surprised you’re walking alone,” he said. He did slide his eyes to my face then—dark brown eyes.
    “Me?” My face reddened, then paled. “Well, it’s daylight. I don’t think anything is going to happen in the day, do you? Besides, it’s pretty public around here. Lots of people. I could scream.”
    Was I warning him?
    “Not for long,” he said. “You might not be able to scream for long,” he clarified.
    I stiffened.
    “Well, there are lots of rangers around right about now,” I said almost defiantly.
    “I don’t see any right now,” he said. He smiled, or at least I think so. I couldn’t tell through his scruffy facial hair. If so, it wasn’t a particularly pleasant smile
      Okay, he is strange, isn’t he, Ben? What have I gotten myself into?
    Nothing you cannot remove yourself from, Ben said. You can walk away now, Minerva. It is the safest thing to do.
    Not yet, I said.
    “I’ve seen some today, just on the other loop.” It was a lie, but I thought it sounded good.
    He nodded and stared at me. No more sideways glances.  
    “So, you’re just walking around the tents, huh?”
    “Oh, no! Not just the tents. I was just walking around the entire campground . You know, taking a walk, checking out my fellow campers. Who doesn’t do that?” I tried a grin and a casual shrug.
    I had discovered on my travels that it was common practice for RVers to study each other’s rigs as they strolled through campgrounds and parks.
    “I don’t,” he said.
    “Well, I do. I just stopped to admire the fireweed growing in front of your site. I haven’t seen any other fireweed in the