The Blue Coyote (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries Book 2) by Karen Musser Nortman Read Free Book Online Page B

Marshmallow
Cannon” in the State Dining Room. The cannon was invented by 14-year-old Joey
Hudy of Phoenix, Arizona and is operated by a bicycle pump. One caveat: we
encourage shooters to pick up and reuse the ammunition, and not to leave the marshmallows
(especially on a hot day) anywhere that they might stick to shoes and be
tracked into the camper.

Chapter Five
    Early Saturday Afternoon

 
    At the campground, the
Ferraros and Terells had unloaded their bikes and Mickey and Ben were ensconced
in their reclining lounges with a radio between them. Nancy and Jane Ann sat at
the picnic table, browsing through cooking magazines and occasionally calling
attention to good recipe possibilities.
    “Got the Iowa game on?” Larry
asked the other two men.
    Ben nodded. “No score yet.”
    Sabet and Joe placed their
new treasures on the ground and clambered up the steps of the trailer after
ammunition. How 80-pound children could manage to shake a 6,000-pound vehicle
was beyond Frannie’s scientific expertise. Probably why she had taught social
studies.
    Larry picked up the guns and
placed them behind the pickup, grinning. The kids returned, Sabet clutching the
bag of marshmallows while Joe tried to grab it from his sister. They stopped
and looked around frantically for their weapons.
    “Grandpa!” they both said in
unison.
    Larry feigned innocence. “Why
me? Uncle Mickey’s the trickster in this group.”
    “We know it was you,” Sabet insisted, arms folded, and Larry meekly
retrieved the guns from their hiding place.
    “Let me see how they work,”
Larry said, holding his hand out for the gooey bullets. “I want to make sure
you kids don’t get hurt with these things.” Soon Larry and Ben were trying the
guns out on Mickey, who had dozed off and slept through the attack.
    “I can see now we bought them
for the wrong kids,” Frannie commented to Nancy. Larry and Ben finally
surrendered the guns to the kids and Larry cautioned them against using any
targets other than trees and Uncle Mickey. The men returned to their chairs by
the radio. From the hysteria of the announcer, someone must be doing something
big in the game.
    “Yes! Touchdown!” Larry
pumped his fist in the air. Apparently the someone was
the Iowa Hawkeyes. The outburst brought Mickey to a sitting position and Larry
leaned closer to the radio for the extra point. But the announcer
was drowned out by the clamorous drone of training wheels .
    Larry sank back in his chair.
“This is too much.” He hoisted himself out of his chair and ambled toward the
road.
    Frannie quickly followed him.
“Larry...?”
    When she got to the road, he
was standing in the middle, arms folded, facing the direction the little girl
had gone. The offender had just reached the end of the road and as she turned
around, saw Larry standing there. She left her bike in the road and looking
around, spotted a woman just walking up from the tent loop. Larry could see her
talking to the woman while pointing back at him. Larry gave a little wave and
turned back to the campsite.
    They looked expectantly at
him. He gave a shrug and said, “She’s ratting me out to a lady on the road. I
suppose I’m in trouble now. I think I’ll go to the can before the gendarmes
come for me.” And he headed to the path through the woods to the restrooms.
    Frannie sighed and didn’t
know what to say. She shrugged at the rest and they sat uneasily, shifting and
searching for the comfort they had a few minutes before. Fifteen minutes
passed, Larry returned, but no sign of the girl or the ranger. The men went
back to the radio and the game. Joe, who had been busy using Cuba for
marshmallow practice, came to Frannie’s side.
    “Grannie Fran?”
    “Yes, Joe?”
    “I thought we were going on a
hike.”
    “Right. Get me that map on
the table and let’s pick out a trail.” She showed Joe where they were on the
map of the park and together they picked out a trail that led from the tent
loop along the