Molten Death by Leslie Karst

Author:Leslie Karst [Karst, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2023-12-08T00:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

She was immediately hit by the stink of rotting organic matter and had to suppress the urge to gag. Breathing through her mouth to minimize the smell, Valerie took in the contents of the small tent. Most of the space was taken up by a double-bed-size air mattress with a pillow and a thin sleeping bag lying in a heap on top. An open suitcase lay in the corner, along with a pair of red-and-black flip-flops and two canvas shopping bags.

These contained food: a loaf of nine-grain bread; a half-eaten jar of peanut butter; partially consumed packets of cheddar cheese and luncheon meat, the meat and cheese so covered in green mold that they were barely identifiable; three shriveled, black bananas; and two overripe avocados (both with their stems, she couldn’t help noticing).

Valerie breathed a sigh of relief. The cause of the stench was far more benign than what her paranoid brain had been imagining.

But the state of the foodstuffs made it clear that the tent’s occupant must have indeed been gone for at least several days, and that she had not intended to be away for so long. Either that or she had no idea how quickly perishables could go bad in the tropics.

She turned to the suitcase. All the clothes inside were neatly folded except for a pair of olive drab shorts and a yellow beach towel, which had been thrown carelessly on top. A search through the pockets of the shorts revealed nothing but a stick of lip balm and a wad of tissues. She examined the inside of the waistband: size 8, the same that Valerie wore.

Kristen poked her head into the tent. ‘Pee-yew!’ she said. And then, ‘How much longer you gonna be? Someone might find us snooping here.’

‘Just a minute more; I’m almost done.’ Valerie dropped the shorts back onto the bed and rummaged through the rest of the clothes in the suitcase: a pair of jeans (nothing in the pockets), a black one-piece bathing suit, three T-shirts, several knit tank tops, socks, a bra and underwear, and a couple of flowered blouses.

Valerie pulled out the T-shirts; one can learn a lot about a person from what they choose to display on their chest. Unfolding the first one, she chuckled. ‘Got Poi?’ it read. The second bore a stylized drawing of a turtle, similar to the ones on the aloha shirt she’d bought at the thrift store the other day. The last shirt had a logo of a wave, volcano and moon, with the words ‘School of Ocean and Earth Science and Technology’ written underneath. She repeated the name to herself several times, to try to commit it to memory.

The only other items in the suitcase were a toiletry kit full of the usual shampoo, soap, and toothpaste items, as well as a couple of paperback novels, both thrillers. She’d been hoping to find a purse or daypack containing something that could more specifically identify the woman – Amy, the camper had said her name was.

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