Free Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 06 - Cozy Camping by Jeanne Glidewell

speechless, wipe a tear off her cheek before returning to the office—most likely in the event a customer needed attention. I think it was safe to say there were no customers in the office, due to the mob that surrounded the pool area. At that moment, discovering what had a huge crowd abuzz was more intriguing than the idea of purchasing a bag of ice or Wyoming keychain.
    The police officers on the scene were trying, without much success, to push the crowd back from where the body bag had been laid out next to the once-energetic body of Fanny Finch. They realized that observing something of this nature could be very traumatic to the curious onlookers, so they were trying to shield the body from the crowd’s view as much as possible.
    After the coroner zipped up the bag in which Fanny’s body had been placed, several men worked together to hoist the bag up and load it into the back of the medical examiner’s van to be transported to the morgue. I glanced over at Avery to gauge his reaction. His stony expression was that of someone watching men load a large burlap bag of turnips they’d just purchased at a farmer’s market into the bed of a truck.
    I wondered if somebody really did hold Fanny’s head under water until she drowned; perhaps even Avery, who might have been attempting to cast suspicion away from himself. I couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be at least tempted to do such a terrible thing to the self-centered and unpleasant woman, given the opportunity. I mentioned the possibility to Stone.
    He rolled his eyes in response, and said, “Oh, good grief. I hope this isn’t going to turn into another unfettered determination to prove the woman was murdered and her death wasn’t an accidental drowning. After all the harrowing events surrounding Ducky’s death 2 last fall, I should think you’d steer as far away as possible from getting involved in the matter.”
    “Well, of course, Stone. I’m merely intrigued by the situation because I’ve seen Fanny Finch swim. She was the embodiment of what the offspring of Michael Phelps and Esther Williams would be.”
    “Seriously?” Stone asked, with a chuckle. “I can’t quite visualize Michael Phelps, who’s in his twenties, hooking up with Esther Williams, who’s got to be nearing ninety if she’s even still alive.”
    “Okay, smart-aleck. Esther Williams passed recently, and I know she and Michael would be an unlikely pair. My point is that I can’t imagine her drowning accidentally. She appeared to be the picture of health, and was definitely an impressive swimmer. She was like a dolphin on speed in the water.”
    Stone rolled his eyes again and walked over to greet Andy, Veronica, and Wyatt, knowing they’d be interested in what was going on. They’d been among the throng of people ascending on the scene from their RV sites.
    The next thing I knew, Wendy was standing in front of me, having finished her conversation with the coroner. I had not been surprised to see her speaking with him. With my daughter’s passion for all things cadaver-related, and her unseemly desire to immerse herself in every discussion involving the cause of someone’s death, I would have been more astonished if she hadn’t spoken to him.
    “You know, Mom, I’m finding it hard to believe she drowned accidentally. When you two were swimming laps yesterday, Fanny swam by you like you were a warning buoy floating on the surface of the water. It was like watching greased lightning flash past a dying slug.”
    “Well, I think your analogy might be a gross exaggeration,” I said, rather miffed by the comparison. “I wasn’t trying to break any speed records, just warming up.”
    “No offense intended, Mom. She’d have passed me as if I were in a coma had I had been swimming a lap myself. I’m just saying the woman was an advanced swimmer.”
    “Yes, I agree, and I do get your point, Wendy. She was too accomplished a swimmer to drown accidentally, barring a sudden