The Body in the Landscape (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 5) by Larissa Reinhart

my life is a mess?”
    As the peacocks had no answer to that, I turned toward the path. A few minutes later, the whir of a battery-powered motor and the churn of tires on damp clay told me Todd approached.
    He stomped the brake on the golf cart, slamming to a stop and flinging mud. “Hey, Cherry. Hop on.”
    I eyed the cart, caked in more mud than a redneck tailgate party, and turned my attention to the bulky blond driving. “Did you see a fluffy GI Joe running through the trees? I just caught some guy decked in head-to-toe camo about to do who-knows-what to these peacocks.”
    “Aren’t those peacocks something? They scream every time I drive by. About scared the life out of me the first time.” Todd turned to glance back at their pen. “I didn’t see anybody. Who do you think he was?”
    “No clue. But he ran when I confronted him.” I climbed into the golf cart. “I tell you what, Todd. This relaxing weekend has turned into some kind of sideshow act. I am looking forward to spending a little time away from this fancy lodge at a real bar.”
    “Bars suit you better,” agreed Todd.
    “However, a trailer bar might not get me far from the sideshow act.”
    “Trailer bar?”
    I’d had a similar reaction.
    According to Ty, the Double Wide was located on the land next door to Big Rack Lodge. “Can’t miss it,” Ty had said between swigs of Red Bull. “The neighbor, Guterson, has that little trailer town you passed just before reaching Big Rack’s property. The Gutersons wouldn’t sell, even when the Woodcocks bought the land around them.”
    “Right,” I had said. “Seemed out of place. A few trailer homes on that narrow strip of land.”
    “One’s a bar. The Double Wide.”
    “A trailer bar?”
    I figured a trailer bar would be easy enough to spot, and as the Gutersons’ property wasn’t far, Todd and I took the golf cart. Outside the lodge, the dark forest loomed on either side of the road, increasing the shiver factor in both temperature and setting. My eyes swept the dark for wild-eyed hogs and rotund men. Rain began to spit, dotting the plastic windshield and dampening the seats. I burrowed deeper into my insulated coat and wondered if outlining camo vines in puff paint had diminished the waterproof factor.
    “I hoped we could talk. At the lodge, it seems we never get a chance.” Todd squinted at the road, barely lit by the headlights.
    “I know what you mean. Either we can’t hear ourselves think with all the hunters’ boasting or there’s something crazy happening.”
    “Crazy?”
    “Like that cake and then this odd peacock fellow. Plus my hipster lodge neighbor’s ranting carried through my walls. He’s wanting to kill someone. Not that I don’t take that particular phrase as a figure of speech, but those words tend to stick in your craw when you’ve found a body earlier in the day.”
    “I guess that’s true.”
    “You know, I really get the feeling that Rookie Holt thinks something happened to Abel Spencer. Not sure what she’s suspecting, just that he didn’t drunkenly fall into that ditch. I hope the Double Wide folks or their patrons can help me. The news said he was last seen there before his death. At least I’ll find out if he had gone three sheets between meeting me and his untimely demise. That’d settle some of my nerves.”
    “That’s why we’re going to a trailer bar?” Todd began tapping a jerky rhythm against the steering wheel. “Are you sure you’re not trying to make an accident into something worse? To give yourself something else to think about?”
    “ Possibly.” I unfolded my arms, then folded them again to regain my escaped body heat. “But maybe I can help Rookie Holt. I’m sure if I learn something at this bar, she’d be mighty happy to hear about it.” I wanted to make a better impression with Rookie Holt. I hoped to get her to warm to me.
    Or at least thaw her a little.
    The look Todd gave me reminded me of Abel’s