Cat Among the Fishes by Louise Clark

Author:Louise Clark [Clark, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64457-036-4
Publisher: ePublishing Works!

Chapter 15

The campground was very quiet.

Lying on her air mattress, blinking sleep from her eyes, Christy wondered what had woken her. It didn’t take long to realize it was a call of nature and a visit to the bathroom was in order. On the air mattress beside her, Noelle was still sound asleep, Stormy curled up behind her knees. The cat opened his eyes. She put her finger to her lips for quiet and his big green eyes drifted shut again. Christy grabbed her sandals, unzipped the tent flap, and slipped outside.

Her watch informed her it was still early, and a quick look round told her that no one else from their little group was awake yet. After putting on her sandals, she stretched then headed off to the bathroom. Once she got back, she’d make coffee and, if she was still the only one up, she’d read her book in the morning quiet.

While her little section of the campground was still deep in slumber, the washrooms were busy. She had to wait for a stall, and, when she emerged, for a sink to wash up. Her most pressing need taken care of, she leaned against a wall and watched women brushing teeth and applying makeup at the sinks while she waited for her turn. That was where she was when Patterson came out of one of the stalls looking half asleep.

“Morning,” she said, sounding chirpy even to herself.

Patterson shot her a heavy-eyed look and grunted, “Morning.”

Two sinks opened up, one beside the other, the users a mother and daughter who were chatting with far too much energy for this early in the morning. Christy had just finished washing her hands when the middle-aged woman from the campsite opposite Patterson’s joined them. What was her name? Christy couldn’t remember. She stepped back to give the older woman access to the sinks and she smiled her thanks.

The woman looked over at Patterson. “Good morning, Mrs. Farnsworth. How are you today?”

“Fine.”

Christy was amused to note that Patterson’s response was little more than a grunt. That might have been because the detective wasn’t a morning person, or because of the woman’s old-fashioned formality in addressing Patterson by her married name. Then again, she might not remember the woman’s name either.

They left the washhouse one after the other, and, since they were all going in the same direction, walked back toward their campsites together. If the woman hadn’t been there, Christy would have asked Patterson if there were any developments on the murder, but having a third person with them, it seemed inappropriate. Surprisingly, it was the woman who brought it up.

“So unfortunate that Shane Higginson was killed,” she said, the words followed by a sniff. “Though I’m not surprised. He wasn’t a nice man.”

Patterson frowned and shot her a sharp, wide-awake look. “Did you know him, ah, ma’am?”

The woman’s pale blue eyes twinkled. “I’m Sheila Bunch. You’ve probably heard of me, but I don’t think we’ve actually been introduced. My son was a friend of your husband’s when they went to school.

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