Bats and Bones (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries) Read Online Free Page A

cereal and muffin morning. Too hot to cook
already,” she said. “Besides, we want to hike the Cave Trail before it gets
even hotter.”
    “Good
idea,” he agreed.
    Sometimes
they planned elaborate breakfasts—eggs, sausage, pancakes, all cooked
over the fire, or a favorite: “smashed potatoes,” with sausage gravy, accompanied
by juice or fresh fruit. But in warm or rainy weather, or when they had plans
before noon, simpler fare sufficed. As the others emerged from their campers,
Frannie went in hers to gather the breakfast makings for Larry and herself.
    They had
purchased their travel trailer five years earlier from a used camper lot.
Frannie had amused herself and their friends with a complete but low cost
makeover with a cozy rustic theme. She personally did not care for the current
trend toward a faux Roman spa decor in RVs. Camping in the beauties of nature
in a unit that looked more like a Las Vegas casino inside just wasn’t right in
her mind. So she had recovered the fold down couch and dining benches with
denim, hung homespun curtains, and added a couple of small wrought iron lamps.
She even removed the cheap looking wallpaper border and replaced it with a hand
painted and stenciled design with moose and bears. A hand-quilted lap robe in
navy, red, and green prints and a couple of pillows made from old jeans complete
with pockets finished the look. She loved the warm feeling, and even more the
efficiency and simple upkeep, of the result.
    She loaded
a wooden tray with old plastic plates and bowls, flatware, cereal, bananas,
butter and a basket of rhubarb almond muffins that she had snagged from her
home freezer. As she struggled with the screen door, Larry jumped up from his
spot at the picnic table to help her. Jane Ann had already brought out fresh
strawberries, yogurt, and granola, while Rob contributed more cereal and toast,
along with homemade apple butter.
    Donna had
returned from walking Bugger and they all found seats around the table.
    “I don’t
see much action from Stub’s group this morning.” Donna said.
    “I got up
about 1:30 and I could still see several out there around their fire,” Mickey
said.
    “I thought
they were taking off this morning,” Frannie said.
    “They still
have four hours left of the morning,” Jane Ann said.
    “Speaking
of that, who’s up for hiking the trail before it gets too hot?” Rob asked.
      There were no abstainers and they cleared
their breakfast materials, piling the few dishes in their respective sinks.
Shortly after, equipped with water bottles, sunglasses, cameras, and cell
phones, they headed down the hill toward the trailhead, Bugger in the lead and
Cuba in tow.
    “Have you
guys ever been to that Rock Cliff Winery that’s near here?” Donna asked as they
walked down the middle of the road.
    Jane Ann
looked at Mickey. “I don’t think so. Do you remember?”
    “We’ve
never been to one around here.”
    “We were
thinking about going this afternoon,” Donna said.
    “Good
idea,” Frannie said. “We printed out a listing of the area events this weekend
before we came. I think one of the small towns nearby is having a melon
festival this weekend. And there’s a band concert in town tomorrow night at the
city park with fireworks after.”
    “There’s
also a log cabin here in the park—the first white settlers in the county,
“ Jane Ann added. “We haven’t been to that for a couple of years but it was
always well maintained. It’s a hike through the woods so it’s not touristy.”
    “Sounds
like plenty to do,” Donna said. “And even better if it cools off tomorrow. I’ve
had it with this heat.”
    About a
quarter mile from the campground, the road widened to a parking area with a
small information kiosk. Wooden steps and walkways led off both sides of the
lot down to a ravine lined with limestone walls. A small but lively stream
wandered through the bottom of the ravine, disappearing in places into small
caves and cascading