Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 01 - Trouble at Happy Trails Read Online Free Page A

grieving woman on my hands in a minute.
    Yes, I can see that might be a possibility. Perhaps you could offer her something to eat?
    “Are you hungry, Sally? Have you eaten at all?”
    “Carl and I ate dinner,” she said. Tears slid down her face. “And then we got into an argument—a loud shouting match. I’m surprised everybody in the park didn’t hear it. I left and went back to the office to work on some paperwork, just to get away. When I came back, he was…” She stopped short and closed her eyes.
    I reached for her hand, so recently covered in blood. It was clean now, and very cold. A slight tremor ran through it.
    “I wish there was something I could say or do, Sally.”
    “Oh, you’re doing so much already. Not many people would offer shelter to a woman who the police thought was a murderer only a few hours ago.”
    A light tinkling sound caught my ear, and Sally withdrew her hand to reach inside her bag.
    “My phone. It’s probably my brother.”  
    I watched as she raised the phone to her ear with a shaking hand.
    “Hello?”
    The range of emotions on her face was interesting to watch as she listened to the caller. I saw grief, surprise and then a smile of relief.
    “You’re here in town? Already?”
    She listened.
    “When did you get here?” She listened again. “Oh, so you got here this afternoon? Why didn’t you call me?”
    A sob erupted from her, and I reached for her free hand. She mouthed the words “my brother” to me.
    “Well, I’m at space 18 right now, staying with a new friend. Did Kathy come with you?”
    Silence.
    “You came by yourself?” Her brother must have explained something.  
    “Okay, sure. I’m sure she won’t mind. Come get me. Okay, bye!”
    Sally settled the phone back into her bag.
    “My brother was already in town. I’m not really sure why, but he says he got here this afternoon, even before… He’s staying at a motel nearby. I guess he was coming to visit? I’m not sure why he didn’t call earlier. He could have come to dinner, and maybe…” She didn’t finish that sentence but continued on.
    “Well, we’ll never know. He hated Carl anyway, would have been no help.”
    “Hated him?”  
    “Carl was…” Sally bit her lower lip and took a deep breath. “Carl smacked me around. Bob knew about it. He saw the bruises last year when we visited him and Kathy. I lied and said I fell, but he knew. He threatened to kill Carl if he ever did it again.”
    “Oh, Sally!” I murmured. I too had been bruised by men but under different circumstances—a one-time incident, not a systemic brutalization by a spouse or loved one.
    “So, even if he had come by the park, that might not have stopped Carl from…” Sally struggled to voice the words.
    I nodded. “I can see that.” I wanted to say “good riddance” but thought it a bit much.
    And singularly inappropriate, my dear. Knowing you as I now do, silent commiseration is the wisest course. A chuckle followed.
    “Carl cheated on me too,” Sally continued. “Once, I found him in someone’s trailer. He’d gone to help a single lady in an RV with her ‘plumbing’ and when I went to see what time he wanted to eat lunch, she answered the door half naked. Carl came out of the bedroom, zipping up his pants. I hated him for that!”
    This Carl character sounded like a real jerk.  
    Restrain yourself, Minerva. I hear the words on the tip of your tongue.
    Yes, Ben, I said to my annoying conscience.
    “Is that something he did often?” I asked.
    “More than once. I know of about three times at least. Sometimes, he would just tell me about it.”
    The natural inclination is to ask someone why he or she didn’t leave, but I resisted. The question would have been trite and useless. She clearly had her own reasons for staying. Maybe she still loved him.
    Yes, my dear. Love is a powerful bond, even if it is not returned. I think you are correct.
    A sharp series of knocks on the door startled me, and I