Camp Pain, page 1
Camp Pain
Travel Writer Mystery Series - 1
Wendy Meadows
Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Meadows
All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
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Majestic Owl Publishing LLC
P.O. Box 997
Newport, NH 03773
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
What’s Next?
More from Wendy
About Wendy Meadows
Chapter One
Patricia rolled down the window of her RV as she drove south into Georgia and breathed in the warm spring air. Patricia had left cold, snowy New York City yesterday morning and after one night at a campground in Roanoke, Virginia the night before, she was happy to see the green landscape around her, crawling with kudzu and bursting into flower.
She sang along with the radio, her curly red hair waving in the wind, enjoying the freedom of life in her RV. There was nothing better than this, Patricia knew—the excitement of hitting the open road whenever she wanted, off on an adventure where she would explore a new place. Patricia was a woman with a gypsy soul who loved meeting new people and meeting new adventures head-on, which was why her career as a travel writer was so satisfying to her.
Patricia was coming to the end of a fourteen-hour drive. Her editor and publisher had planned out her travel writing assignments and wanted her to write a long feature article about Atlanta. Before New York, Patricia had been in Philadelphia researching a similar feature, and, despite the cold, she had had a blast doing it. She took a deep breath of the warm, fresh air blowing in through her window now and could hardly wait to see what Atlanta had to offer her.
Patricia kept her attention on the highway, humming along softly to the classic rock song playing on her radio. A small sporty car zoomed past her on the right. Patricia smiled. I’ll probably see them pulled over in a few minutes, she thought. Sure enough, a few miles down the road Patricia saw the sleek red car next to a sheriff's car with its lights flashing. Patricia’s RV could manage a good speed, but she generally kept to the posted limits. As a young woman, she had worked a clerical job at a police station processing tickets and citations, and she had a healthy respect for the law. She had no desire to add a speeding ticket to her life achievements.
Of course, once she had been promoted to administrative assistant to the detectives there, she had wished to add plenty of things to her life achievements. Her writing skills and people skills were unparalleled—she had her degree in English and Psychology to thank for that—but she lacked the credentials to do more than help out occasionally with investigations. “You have talent, kid,” a detective sergeant had once told her. “Call me when you’ve got a badge to back it up. Until then, stick to your paperwork.” It stung. But truthfully, Patricia knew she would be a little miserable if she went to the police academy. Her free spirit longed for something more. That very same week she had begun hunting for travel writing jobs, then sold her car to buy the RV not long after that.
Patricia knew she had made the right choice in life because when she saw the “Welcome to Georgia” sign, her heart sang. Patricia was almost at her destination. She would be staying at a campground next to a tourist attraction called Stone Mountain. There was plenty to explore there, plus a bus line ran from the park to Atlanta and nearby suburbs. That was perfect for Patricia, who relied on busses, taxis, and Ubers to get around.
A couple of hours later, Patricia was awed to see Stone Mountain rising tall in the middle of flat land and highways. It was beautiful. Patricia pulled up to the ranger station by the entrance. The ranger gave her a map showing her camping spot and welcomed her to the park. Patricia thanked him, and he wished her a good day in a sweet Georgia accent that made her grin.
Driving through the campground, the lush green trees rose on every side and families and couples walked along the paths. She found her space, parked and got out. Patricia hooked up her RV to the electric station and decided to stretch her legs after her long drive. The generator could charge while she took a walk. After donning her favorite floppy straw hat to keep the sun out of her eyes, Patricia hopped out of her RV and locked the door. Even though campgrounds were generally safe, Patricia knew she was better safe than sorry. She may have a gypsy soul, but she also prided herself on being a savvy, careful traveler.
Patricia consulted the map of the park and set out toward a good walking trail. She walked along the small paved road and saw a young couple setting up their RV in a space nearby. The young man looked up and waved at Patricia. Patricia waved back.
“Hello,” said the young man. He was dressed in shorts and a polo shirt. He had wavy brown hair and a friendly look.
“Hello, neighbor,” responded Patricia. She stopped to chat, and he walked over. “I’m in the next lot over. My name is Patricia.”
“My name is Tom,” he said as they shook hands. She saw chairs and a table set up by the firepit. A pretty young woman walked up, her brown hair framing her face in fetching natural curls. “This is my wife, Valerie.”
“It is nice to meet you both,” said Patricia, and Valerie shook her hand warmly.
“Did you just arrive?” Valerie said.
“Yes. I just drove down from Virginia. Are you enjoying Stone Mountain so far?” Patricia asked.
“Yes,” said Valerie with a huge grin. “We love it. We’re on our honeymoon,” she said and blushed a little, reaching out to hold Tom’s hand.
“Yes, we are traveling all around the United States,” Tom explained. “The RV was a wedding present from my uncle.”
“How wonderful,” exclaimed Patricia. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
“How about you? What brings you here to Georgia?” asked Valerie.
“I am a travel writer, so my work brings me to Atlanta. My friends always tease me how much I love the RV life. My job is perfect for me. I guess I’m just a gypsy at heart.” The young couple laughed.
“This seems like a really nice place to start your research. Quite a lot of things to do around the park, even before you head into Atlanta,” said Tom.
“I thought so too,” said Patricia. “Well, it was nice meeting you both. I am just stretching my legs on the trails. I’ll let you get back to setting up.”
“Okay,” said Valerie. She hesitated, then added, “Later on we are headed to the famous Dekalb Farmer’s Market. Would you like to join us? If it won’t keep you from your work, that is.”
“Thank you,” said Patricia, touched by the friendly gesture. “I would love to join you. The Dekalb market is actually on my list of must-see places.” She could tell Valerie and Tom were the kind of campground neighbors she would enjoy making friends with.
“Great! Does four pm work?” Valerie asked.
“That works for me,” said Patricia. “See you then.” With a wave, she headed off toward the walking trail.
Patricia had read about Stone Mountain online and knew it would be a great hook for her article about Atlanta. Anyone could write about Atlanta, but Patricia loved the unexpected angle of starting out a city visit from a secluded, lush park in the country. She was excited to see the famous carvings on the mountain, but the trail was so beautiful she almost forgot what was waiting for her at the top. The cherry tree blossoms wafted a delicate scent on the afternoon air, and purple blooms of wisteria draped on a grove of pecan trees along a creek by the trail.
Patricia climbed up the steep, smooth mountain trail. About thirty minutes later, she reached the top and caught her breath. Her hike was worth it. Patricia gasped at the sweeping view of the Atlanta skyline. She saw the Appalachian Trail and the lake below the mountain and stunning views in every direction.
Realizing it was nearly time to head back, Patricia noticed a cable car platform by the gift shop. She walked over and was told she could use her park pass for free rides up and down. I wish I had known that before I hiked up here, thought Patricia ruefully, but then realized she was grateful for the exercise. This way she could also describe the experience better in her article. Patricia rode down in the cable car, which provided a view of the carved monument.
When she reached the bottom, Patricia sauntered along the trail toward her RV and observed the wildlife. A small lizard scurried across the trail and it was followed by a slightly larger black snake. Patricia gasped a little, but she had done her homework on the wildlife of Georgia and she knew the black snake was non-venomous. Besides, snakes ate campground pests like mice and rats.
Back at her RV, Patricia hopped into the shower. While she scrubbed off the remains of travel and hiking, she reflected on a cute family she had seen at the top of Stone Mountain. Two boys wearing I Survived the Stone Mountain Climb t-shirts had made goofy faces while their parents took their pictures in front of the cable car sign. One boy took out a cell phone and took a selfie in front of the view and his brother held up two fingers to give him rabbit ears at the last second. Patricia laughed, remembering it.
She headed over to Tom and Valerie’s campsite still thinking about that family, and she realized she knew exactly how she would start the write-up about Stone Mountain: When’s the last time your family took a selfie on a cable car 825 feet in the air? She grinned.
When Tom pulled the car up to the Dekalb Farmer’s Market, Patricia was surprised to see it was a rather unexciting brown warehouse, but when they stepped inside the doors, she gasped with surprise. Flags from every country in the world hung from the ceiling and aisle after aisle was lined with colorful bins of local produce and flowers from all over the country, as well as imported foods and delicacies.
What a sight. They even had a small buffet-style restaurant in the market that featured food from the marketplace. Patricia was overwhelmed by the variety of food available, but she gripped her shopping cart and got to work, waving merrily to Tom and Valerie who set off in the other direction. She started down the dry goods aisle and picked up some hibiscus tea, then in the produce section, she found prickly pear cactus next to the baby bok choy. Patricia’s mouth watered, remembering an omelet with stir-fried cactus she had eaten in Las Vegas. She added it to her cart, determined to recreate that dish.
By the time she found Tom and Valerie again, her cart held bagels that rivaled the ones she had eaten in New York City, homemade quiches, organic milk in a glass bottle, and farmer’s cheese.
“This place is amazing,” Valerie gushed, coming over to admire Patricia’s finds.
Tom was waiting for some lamb kebabs to be cut up and packaged at the meat counter.
“Tom always buys enough to feed an army,” said Valerie with a laugh. “Patricia, you should join us tonight! I insist.”
“You’re too kind. How about I bring the dessert?” said Patricia. Tom and Valerie thought that sounded delicious and agreed.
Valerie and Patricia walked side by side with their carts, chatting amiably about dinner plans, when suddenly someone knocked into Patricia hard, jostling her shoulder. Patricia exclaimed and stumbled into Valerie. She rubbed her shoulder and looked up to see a man glowering at her as if it was her fault.
The man was tall with a shock of wavy brown hair that fell over his forehead. His serious blue eyes frowned down at her. “You should be more careful,” he said in a warning tone.
How rude, Patricia thought. “Excuse me,” she replied, mustering all the politeness she could manage. “You stumbled into me.” She boldly stared him down.
He seemed surprised by her reply. But then he walked away, his eyes darting around in the crowd. As an afterthought, he said over his shoulder to her, “You should watch your purse, miss. There are pickpockets here sometimes.” She watched his tall figure disappear swiftly into the market.
“What was that about?” Valerie said in bafflement. Her husband had picked up on the stranger’s meaning, however.
“Check your purse,” Tom said to Patricia with concern. Patricia was surprised to find her purse zipper open. Her pulse jumped in fear. She knew that pickpockets often tried to distract their targets while taking something.
“Well, if he’s a thief, he’s a really bad one. Nothing is missing,” Patricia said with a sigh of relief.
“He didn’t even apologize for knocking you over,” said Valerie.
Patricia thought for a moment. Perhaps they were jumping to conclusions. He had simply warned her, after all. “Maybe we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover,” she said.
They headed for the check-out lanes. Patricia thought to herself that she would rather have a rude stranger than a thieving pickpocket, any day. Still, it left a sour feeling in her stomach, and she was happy when they were back in the car returning to the beautiful campground.
Chapter Two
When they pulled up to Patricia’s RV site at the Stone Mountain campground, Tom helped Patricia carry her bags of food to her RV, and she thanked the couple again for the ride to the market.
There were still a couple hours before dinner, and she needed to bake the dessert and take notes for her article. She waved as Tom and Valerie’s car moved slowly down the campground road to the parking spot next to their RV.
Patricia put away her groceries, savoring the unexpected finds from the Dekalb Farmer’s Market. She took out her cutting board and began to chop strawberries and rhubarb while her small but efficient oven heated up. When she popped the fruit cobbler in the oven to bake, it filled her home with a sweet smell. Patricia wrote down her notes about her adventures in Georgia so far, then changed into some warmer clothes before dinner.
Tom stood in front of the barbecue turning the savory kebabs on the coals. It smelled heavenly. Patricia and Valerie sat in comfortable camp chairs near the fire trading stories about their journeys so far. “One thing I have enjoyed about our honeymoon is getting to meet new people,” said Valerie. “Most people are sweet and kind like you, though occasionally you do meet some strange ones.” She shook her head, and Patricia knew she was thinking about the rude stranger in the market.
“I understand,” said Patricia. “There was this one man I met on my travels who stalked me for a couple of days. I had to call the police. It was horrible.”
“Did the police do anything?” Valerie asked.
“Yes. Fortunately, he had a previous record, so they arrested him,” said Patricia, shivering. “It is times like that when I question my career choice. Fortunately, those times are few and far between.”
“That is why I’m glad Tom and I are traveling together,” said Valerie, smiling up at her handsome husband. “You are very brave traveling around by yourself. Where are you going after Atlanta?”
“My publisher has not told me yet,” said Patricia. “When I find out, I will let you know.”
“It would be fun if we could travel down to Key West together,” said Valerie. Patricia agreed with her. She had never been to Key West, and it was one of the places she had always wanted to visit. Maybe I can suggest that to my publisher, Patricia thought.
Valerie set out a large bowl of salad filled with crisp veggies from the farmer’s market. Tom brought the sizzling hot lamb kebabs to the picnic table, and they all sat down to enjoy the mouthwatering meal.
The young couple told Patricia that they had started their trip in Boston and were working their way south to Key West. After that, they were going to New Orleans and then across to California.
“We plan on getting our money’s worth out of this honeymoon,” Tom laughed.
“RV travel really is the best way to enjoy the country,” said Valerie.
“It is one of the best perks of my job,” Patricia agreed. They finished dinner and the young couple exclaimed happily when Patricia brought out the freshly-baked strawberry rhubarb dessert. They enjoyed the delicious fruit treat and then walked down the park road to watch the laser light show that danced across the face of Stone Mountain. Every night, the park created this spectacle for the visitors, and it truly made a beautiful contrast against the dark night sky. It was a beautiful end to such a wonderful dinner with her new friends.
Later that night, Patricia returned to her campsite and looked up at the stars. She felt lucky to be able to sit and watch them from her home. There were a few frogs croaking from a pond somewhere, crickets singing in the darkness, and an owl hooting in the far distance. The park felt cozy and safe at night, despite the velvety darkness. It seemed a lot darker now that the laser light show was done. Patricia shivered.
