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

you had hoped. I also think he is not a very pleasant man. I do not know if he is the murderer though.
    “But the bear claw necklace! Some of his comments.” My cheeks burned. “I’m still trying to get over the embarrassment of being caught doing exactly what he said I was doing.”
    I understand, Minerva. This sleuthing business does require that you put yourself forward where you might not otherwise.
    “He was right, though. I did pick him because he looked derelict.”
    Yes.
    “I might not have asked some tanned, toned, athletic, cross-country bicycle-riding tent camper on another site.”
    No.
    “Stereotypes. I’m not proud,” I said.
    If the man wishes people to think well of him, he could at least bathe and clean his clothing. He had a respected job in science. He could have done something else rather than give up and live as an unkempt hermit.
    “Maybe,” I said. “So, you don’t have a feeling for whether he might be involved?”
    I do not.
    “Me either,” I said as I rounded the corner.
    I neared the campground host’s RV and hoped to scoot by it unnoticed, but failed.
    “Morning,” Rick said. “Out for a walk?” He seemed less angry this morning.
    I nodded.
    “Have you heard anything?” I asked. “Did they find John’s killer?”
    His eyes narrowed, and he put his hands on his hips.  
    “Nope, not yet.” He pursed his lips. I couldn’t really read anything from his expression.
    “So, he could still be in the campground somewhere.”
    Rick nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. I can’t tell you not to worry about it, but as long as you don’t walk alone at night, you should be okay.”
    “Have you talked to the rangers lately? Do they have any suspects?”
    “Not sure they would tell me if they had,” he said tersely.
    “I heard that you and Jackson were good friends.” Why not stir the pot, I thought?
    “Did Jackson tell you that?”  
    I didn’t actually answer, and Rick continued.
    “Yeah, Jackson was very fond of my wife. Loved her cooking. Came over to eat with us a lot. It’s not easy being a single guy working for the Park Service. Jobs are kind of remote for the most part. The parks aren’t always located near cities where one can meet girls.”
    I was dying to ask about Jackson and Amanda, but I opted not to. It really wasn’t my place. Not that all this snooping was appropriate either, but I couldn’t resist.
    “I can only imagine,” I murmured.  
    I noticed his grill was smoking.
    “Oh, are you getting ready to grill some food?”
    “No, I just finished a roast. I had to learn to cook when Marsha passed away.”
    I nodded. I had another flash of inspired sleuthing.
    “Hey, I was wondering! I’m a bit of a cook, and I was looking for a tool to toss salad. Amanda showed me this short of shredder kind of tool, but I didn’t get the name of it. I hate to bother her at this time. Do you know what I’m talking about? You hold it in your hands like this?”
    Rick’s eyes narrowed again.  
    “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
    “What?” I asked. My face reddened.
    “I know what you’re looking for. You’re looking for the murder weapon. If it wasn’t a bear, it had to be something similar to claws. Like a meat shredder, right? I have one if that’s what you wanted to know.”
    What could I say? I was having a bad sleuthing day.
    You have not been particularly patient or subtle today, Minerva, that is true. You may have pressed too hard.
    I grinned sheepishly.
    “I’m not insinuating that you killed John, Rick.”
    “You’re not? Well, I’d be well within my rights if I had.”
    I hated to argue this, but no, Rick would not have been within his rights to kill John.
    “Listen, I’m not sure what you think you’re doing, but why don’t you leave investigating to the police?” Rick turned as if to walk into his RV.
    I wanted to call out something, to soothe ruffled feathers, but I didn’t know what to say.
    He paused at the top of the