Peete and Repeat (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries Book 3) by Karen Musser Nortman Page B

manner.
    “No.”
    “Well, take care, Mrs. Shoemaker. I hope the rest of your trip is less eventful.” He nodded at them both, picked up his clipboard, and left.
    “I guess that means we’re done,” Larry said, helping her off the examining table.
    They checked out, and with some effort and Larry’s aid, Frannie managed to climb back up into the truck. When they returned to the campground, she reluctantly tolerated a great deal of fussing, but was finally ensconced in her recliner, book and iced tea at hand, a couple of painkillers down her gullet, and an almost flat pillow behind her back for a little support. She realized it was the first time, other than a few minutes stretched out on a sandbar, that she could completely relax since her fall.
    Nancy sat down beside her, concern showing in her face.
    Frannie grimaced a little. “I thought I was taking the safe route. How were the high ropes?”
    “Oh, awesome! Ben and I went through two of them. They’re about thirty-five feet above the ground—” she smiled as Frannie grimaced a lot. “Really, it’s not bad. You have safety lines on the whole time…”
    Frannie was shaking her head. “I’m glad you had fun, Nancy, but no way. I don’t even like to get on stepladders.”
    Rob and Donna returned and Donna was torn between sympathy and a little pique at having been shoved out of first place in the injury department. But after plying Frannie with what seemed like endless questions, she settled in a chair beside Frannie, sharing recipes that caught her eye in a magazine.
    The painkillers, exhaustion, and the lazy afternoon sun took their toll and soon Frannie nodded off, despite Donna’s best efforts.
    But not for long. Mary Louise Larson’s booming voice jarred her awake in time to hear Mary Louise say, “Oh, my, were you sleeping? Don’t let me bother you. I just wanted to see how you are doing and what the doctor said. I’ll check with your husband—pay no attention to me and go back to sleep.” Right.
    But she did let Larry do the play-by-play from the clinic while she tried to keep a vacant smile on her face, still not quite awake. Finally Mary Louise patted her hand, saying, “I’m so glad nothing’s broken—although sometimes a bruise can be worse. I brought some ice cream bars down because I think ice cream is good for any injury, don’t you?” She kept her laugh at a low rumble in deference to Frannie’s fragile condition.
    Frannie agreed and thanked her. Mary Louise hurried back to her golf cart, promising to check on them later. As the cart moved out of the way, Frannie noticed that the sheriff’s car was back at the twins’ trailer and crime scene tape had been strung around the campsite.
    Frannie had dozed off again when the sheriff walked over. “Mrs. Shoemaker?”
    Frannie sat up, winced and looked around, momentarily confused. The rest of the group had apparently gone in to begin supper preparations.
    “Call me Frannie, please.”
    “Is something wrong? You look uncomfortable.” Frannie gave her a much briefer and less dramatic rendering than Larry would have.
    “Wow. That’s a bummer. Quite a day you’ve had.” She sat down in a vacant lawn chair.
    “Not one I’d care to repeat. Have you found out any more about how those women died?”
    Sheriff Sorensen shook her head. “Haven’t gotten the ME’s report yet. Remember, he’s got two to do.”
    “Can I ask you something?” Frannie said.
    “You can ask. I may or may not answer,” Mary Sorensen smiled.
    “Did you talk to that guy Richard? Does he know about the deaths?”
    “I can’t tell you what he said.”
    “But you did talk to him? That’s all I want to know.” Well, not really, but it was a start.
    “Yes, I did talk to him,” Sorensen conceded.
    “Well, did he—?” Frannie began, but stopped when she saw the sheriff shaking her head. She explained. “He was on the same float trip this afternoon that we were on. With another woman. He didn’t