Whispers in the Woods (Inspector Broekstein Mysteries Book 3) by Milo James Fowler

Author:Milo James Fowler [Fowler, Milo James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Effervescent Press
Published: 2023-07-17T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

Handwritten Note

After an hour of silence and no indication that Janice's killer had followed me to Boomsma's camp, I got to my feet—grunting and grimacing at the blasted cramps that had set in after sitting on the floor too long—and stooped to peer between the slats on the front blinds.

The shore road remained vacant.

I was halfway through breathing a sigh of relief when I noticed a slip of paper tucked behind Harve Martin's hunting rifle, pinned between the forestock and the wall. The breath stopped in my throat.

That slip had not been there before. Or had I simply failed to notice it as Janice and I departed on our second hike? I suppose my attention at the time had been on the prospect of a derelict train car sitting inexplicably in the middle of the woods. And the fact that she had so easily found her way inside Boomsma's locked cabin.

Which reminded me: I needed to secure the window in my bedroom.

But for the moment, I crouched down beside the odious murder weapon and slid the folded piece of paper free. The handwritten note read as follows:

Mr. Brook-stain, if you're reading this, that means I'm dead.

Sorry about that. Whoever killed Harve must've got me.

And if I'm dead, then the killer will be after you next.

So you've got to go across the lake. See Nana Rose.

Red camp with white trim. Tell her what's happened.

She'll know what to do. Don't go to the sheriff.

- Janice

My eyes stung. She was so young, with her whole life ahead of her. She may have made some poor choices thus far, but she would have had plenty of time to correct the course of things. Second chances and whatnot. The wisdom of maturity.

Sorry about that. What on earth did she have to apologize for? Perhaps she had believed us to be partners, attempting to solve Harve Martin's murder together, and that her sudden death would leave me in the lurch. Not exactly true or false, I supposed.

Don't go to the sheriff. Because he would only try to cover up what had happened, as he had with Harve Martin? But how could he possibly blame a moose for Janice's death? He would have to hunt down the killer; that was his job. Or would he blame her for killing Norm and claim it must have been some sort of bizarre murder-suicide?

Never mind that I had witnessed what actually occurred.

See Nana Rose. I recognized the term nana as referring to one's grandmother, in the same way oma was used among the Dutch. But how would an elderly woman be able to help me? Furthermore, if it was true that the killer would be after me next, then it made much more sense to go into town and surround myself with people. Not walk all the way around to the other side of the lake looking for a red cabin with white trim.

I considered taking Boomsma's aluminum rowboat straight across Lake Chumgichkook to the camps on the other

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