Chapter Eight
On Monday morning, Rob declared the pool saved from the neglect and their attempts to rescue it. They weren’t going to open it to campers until Memorial Day weekend, but at least it was just a daily to-do now and not a nightmare.
“What are we going to do about Joe?” Brian asked out of the blue. He was sitting on the stool behind the counter, his chin propped on his hand.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Rob did know what he meant. They’d both done some grumbling about Joey not being around to put some sweat equity into the business, but it was probably on Brian’s mind because they’d seen him yesterday at their parents’ house for brunch.
“He has a wife and a kid, though, so he has to consider them,” Rob pointed out.
“I know, but he’s also left us holding the bag.”
“I’ve been sitting here reading and you’re over there doodling on a sticky notepad.
It sucks that Joey’s not here to count the ceiling tiles.
” Brian called him a string of names that made Rob laugh.
“I get where you’re coming from, but I don’t think there’s much sense in riding his ass about it until Nora’s school lets out for summer break. ”
“They’re not taking a cabin unless they pay full price for it,” Brian muttered. “And it’s not like he’s going to bring them with him all the time, because he’s supposed to work, not be on vacation.”
“No, but schedules probably get more flexible when school’s not an issue.” He wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but Brian was in a mood and Rob didn’t really want a minor annoyance with their brother to blow up into a whole thing.
The entire family would get involved, choosing sides. And since a good chunk of the family would be there on Saturday for their first cookout, it wasn’t a good time to throw that grenade.
He and Stella both looked up when the door opened and Hannah walked in.
Rob’s pulse kicked up a notch, though he did his best not to show it.
But Stella had no reservations about showing Hannah how glad she was to see her.
Once she’d gotten her fill of scratching and rubbing, Stella went back to her bed.
Rob expected Hannah to ask about something campground related, but he was pleasantly surprised when she sank into the other chair and smiled at him.
“I’m bored,” she said. “How was your trip home?”
“Good. It was nice to see everybody, though I had some trouble sleeping because I was so thrilled to be back in the land of drive-through coffee shops, I might have done too many laps. How was your call home?”
“Good. I guess it worked out that I was the only one here because I was able to sit in an empty site down here, where the signal’s stronger, and video chat with my mom.
But I was careful not to pick a site too close to the store so you couldn’t spy on me.
” When both men looked surprised—and maybe a little affronted—she laughed.
“Oh, Dave and Sheila told me all about how you kids put in one of those fancy doorbells with the camera, and how it tapes audio, too, so you can listen to our conversations even though they say it’s illegal. ”
Brian and Rob both laughed, and Brian shook his head. “Does it do audio?”
Rob shrugged. “I don’t remember. We should probably check, though, especially if it is illegal.”
“Why does he think we want to record his conversations? I don’t even want to hear them live, the first time.”
Rob grinned at Hannah. “We put in the doorbell and hooked it in so it rings in the house and we can say ‘Hey, be right there’ and not have to stay in the store all the time.”
“I assumed it was something like that,” Hannah said. “They weren’t interested in a logical explanation that didn’t cast you kids as the villains, so I gave up and pretended I had a headache.”
“I’m surprised you had to pretend after talking to them,” Brian said.
“I should have told them you installed surveillance equipment to catch me scoping out places to bury my victims. That would have gotten them going.”
Rob groaned. “You’re not going to let me off the hook for that, are you?”
Brian held up his hands. “Dude, did you tell her you thought she was a serial killer?”
“We,” Rob shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at his brother. “We talked about her being a serial killer.”
“No, we talked about her being on the run from the law,” Brian said, and then he winced. “No offense, Hannah. We were just speculating on the reasons a woman might drive across the country to stay at a campground alone and it went sideways. I don’t remember who brought up serial killing.”
“And you think if a woman travels alone, she must be on the run?” Both men froze, the silence broken only by a questioning whine from Stella. “Women travel alone. We wear pants now. We even get to vote.”
Rob chuckled. “In our defense, we weren’t serious.”
“I was looking for an old foundation,” Hannah said. “On my walk, I mean.”
Rob leaned back in his chair, turning her words over in his mind. He didn’t remember coming across a foundation—either literally on the property or in the paperwork. “You think there’s a foundation out in the woods?”
“There should be, yes. It’s on the far edge of your property, but within your boundaries, I believe.”
Before Rob could respond, Brian jumped in. “How would you know what’s on our property?”
“Research.”
“Why are you even researching our land in the first place?” Brian demanded, with just enough of an edge in his voice so Rob shot him a look that told him he needed to take it down a notch. “I’m sorry. I’m just really confused.”
“I’m not researching your land. Not specifically, anyway. I’m low-key looking into a missing person. Possibly a murder.”
“A murder?” Rob and Brian repeated at the same time, and Stella sat up, cocking her head.
“You’re investigating a possible murder in our campground?
What does low-key even mean?” Brian continued.
“Are you a detective? Why would you get a seasonal site? Don’t you need a warrant?
Wouldn’t the real estate agent have to disclose that?
Or do you think it happened since we bought it, because—”
“It was in 1872,” Hannah interrupted, holding up her hands.
“Oh.” Rob sagged back against his chair and reached out to scratch Stella’s ears so she’d relax, too.
Brian shook his head. “I’m still not sure how a murder and this campground are related, but if it happened over a hundred and fifty years ago, I guess it’s not something we need to add to the never-ending list of things we lose sleep over.”
“To be fair, it might not be a murder,” Hannah said. “She was a missing person. The research that’s been done on the case over the last century and a half included the location and description of the home, and as of about sixty years ago, the remnants of the stone foundation were still there.”
“And you want to find it...why?” Brian asked.
She shrugged. “Why not? I have an interest in historical true crime, and Elizabeth Whaley’s story was one of the first to capture my attention. I guess spending three months in New Hampshire is like going back to my roots.”
“This state can’t be that interesting for historical true crime,” Rob mused.
“The only famous murderer I can think of off the top of my head is Lizzie Borden,” Brian agreed. “But that was in Massachusetts.”
Hannah laughed. “The man many consider to be the first known serial killer in the country was born in New Hampshire, you know. Then you have the Isle of Shoals murders in 1873. And a New Hampshire man who might actually be more awful than Jack the Ripper was executed in 1874 for crimes I don’t even like to think about. ”
“So if Elizabeth was killed in 1872, do you think that guy did it?” Brian asked.
“No, I don’t. I’ve never seen anything to substantiate he was this far north, and I think if she’d been one of his victims, they would have found evidence. His MO was pretty brutal.”
“I’m still confused,” Rob said. “You drove all the way across the country to spend three months here—alone—to find a few old stones? You could have emailed and asked us to send you a photo.”
Hannah was amused by the bizarre conversation that had ended with the guys still being confused.
What were the chances she’d end up in a campground owned by people who wouldn’t stop talking about serial killers?
As fun as it was to wind them up and watch them go in circles, though, she also knew they were tired and under some stress, so she shouldn’t toy with them too much.
“I’m from California, but I’ve been in the area before,” she said.
“I was obsessed with Boston but didn’t want to actually live there, so I got my degree in history from UNH.
It was a nice central location for trips not only to Boston, but into Maine and the rest of New Hampshire.
That’s when I first read about Elizabeth Whaley as well as some of the other women who’ve just disappeared from history. ”
“Okay, so you chose this campground on purpose,” Rob said.
“Yes and no. I had a list of campgrounds that my dad had vetted as good enough for his daughter to be alone in.”
“We’re flattered,” Brian said.
“Oh, you weren’t on it,” she said, and they all laughed.
“All the Dad-approved ones had waiting lists, so I started casting a wider net. And when I pulled Birch Brook Campground up and saw the location—especially the satellite view—it pinged in my memory and yes, from that moment on, I chose this place on purpose.”
“I think this calls for ice cream,” Brian said. “You want one?”
“I never turn down ice cream,” Hannah said, and when Brian tossed her a chocolate-and-vanilla ice cream cup, she caught it easily, and then the small wooden spoon in plastic wrap.
Rob caught his and then scowled at his brother. “Write them down.”
“I am right now. Get off my back.”
Rob looked at Hannah before opening his ice cream. “We’re supposed to write down anything we use or consume from the store.”
“It’s one of the reasons we got the superspy doorbell,” Brian added. “If we can spend more time in the house, we can eat more of the food we bought for us and less of the food we bought to resell to you guys for a profit.”
“A small profit,” Rob said after giving his brother a look, and Hannah chuckled.
She didn’t bother pointing out that they had the doorbell now but she’d found them both sitting in the store. It worked for her because she got company and free ice cream.
“I’ve always wanted to come back to New England when I didn’t have classes and finals and everything hanging over my head.
I have some big decisions to make in the near future and I wanted some time away to think.
Coming back to New Hampshire, where a lot of things started for me, felt right, so I borrowed my parents’ truck and camper, and here I am. ”
Rob wanted to know more. She could practically see the questions swirling around behind his eyes, but he only nodded and took a bite of ice cream.
Clearly he was smart enough to realize if a woman said she had big decisions to make and needed time away to think, it was personal, and possibly a touchy subject.
“So you didn’t find it?” he asked after a few minutes of ice cream eating. “The foundation, I mean.”
“No, but it’s not exact, you know? An old, tattered rough sketch and some notations in a diary don’t match up that great with current maps. Obviously you try to use some common sense and look at it the way they would have as far as terrain and drainage and whatnot, but it’s pretty overgrown.”
Brian made a low humming sound of concern. “If there’s an old foundation, there could also be an old well.”
“Absolutely, which slows down the walking pace considerably. There’s a lot of woods left to walk back there.” When Rob and Brian exchanged a look, Hannah caught the meaning behind it. “I’d be happy to sign some kind of waiver or whatever.”
“Yeah.” Rob scrubbed his hand over his face. “But it’s not just the liability. The cell signal’s really spotty, and it’s probably not great from the bottom of a well in the middle of the woods.”
Hannah didn’t want to lose access to the woods.
Even if she didn’t find the actual foundation, knowing she might be walking in Elizabeth’s footsteps grounded her somehow—it connected her with the sense of purpose that had driven her since her time at college.
It hadn’t been social engagement and income, but the need to remember the past and the people who had disappeared from it.
“If the foundation is still there, it would make for great photographs,” she said, and she saw the spark in Rob’s eyes. “This is your land now, and from what I’ve been able to glean from old records, the Whaley house was the first permanent structure built on it. It’s quite a history.”
Brian snorted. “A little over a week and you already know Bobby’s magic words.”
She noticed the slight clench of Rob’s jaw at the use of the old nickname and smiled. “And I can make sure you don’t fall in a well.”
Rob laughed. “Okay. We’ve got our hands full with this cookout coming up and then the campground opening to the weekenders, but I could probably find a day when we could go out and look around. And the previous owners told us that strip of marshy stuff does dry up, so a little time wouldn’t hurt.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said, relieved she’d still be able to walk the woods.
As far as Rob accompanying her, she had mixed feelings.
Obviously, it would be safer. The back of their property was overgrown, and she’d already considered the possibility of old wells or caved-in root cellars.
But having somebody with her would mean less quiet time to sort through her thoughts and reflect on what she wanted from her future.
Exploring the woods with Rob added an entire new column to the pros and cons list, though, because she wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or a bad idea, but alone time with Rob was definitely starred, underlined and highlighted in her mind.
And there was something in the smile he gave her that made her wonder if taking pictures of old stones while keeping her from falling in an abandoned well wasn’t his only motivation. “Definitely a plan.”