Warned in wisconsin, p.1
Warned in Wisconsin, page 1
WARNED IN WISCONSIN
RAMBLING RV COZY MYSTERIES, BOOK 2
PATTI BENNING
SUMMER PRESCOTT BOOKS PUBLISHING
Copyright 2022 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
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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
Epilogue
Also by Patti Benning
Author’s Note
Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing
CHAPTER ONE
As Tulia Blake drove across the border from Michigan into Wisconsin, she reached over to switch to the AM radio station one of the many signs on the road said would give her the local news and traffic updates. She was only a few days into her road trip around the country and was still getting used to driving the forty-five-foot-long RV. Driving it in traffic was even worse; she was hoping she would be more comfortable with it by the time she reached less rural areas. Thankfully, her small sedan was hooked up to the back of the RV, so she could take that into town when she found a city she wanted to explore.
“…update about the suspected serial killer that has been terrorizing Wisconsin’s parks and forests.”
Nearly swerving off the road in shock when she heard the announcer’s slightly staticky voice, she turned her head to stare at the flat touch screen that showed what station she was listening to, as if it would give her any more information. When the screen didn’t magically change to tell her what was going on, she turned the volume up and refocused on the road. In his cage strapped into the seat beside her, Cicero, her African grey parrot, released his death grip on the cage bars from when she’d swerved. She shot him an apologetic look but was too focused on what the radio was saying to apologize.
“Police are still searching for the suspect. We urge anyone who believes they may have heard or seen something pertinent to the case to call the FBI hotline.” They listed off a number, and Tulia felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. If the FBI was involved, this must be serious. Wisconsin was a big state, though. What were the chances she would run into this killer? “The latest victim was found two days ago near the southern border of the state. It’s possible the killer has left Wisconsin in order to avoid the statewide search, but we still urge all residents to be on their guard, especially if you live near or are visiting a state park, state forest, or other campground. So far, four victims have been found. Don’t let there be a fifth, folks. Be careful out—”
“Turn left in one-quarter of a mile.”
The radio voice faded out so her GPS could announce her next turn. Tulia jumped; the GPS voice was way too loud now that she had turned the volume up. By the time the radio faded back in, the announcement had changed to a prerecorded weather report. Sighing, she turned the volume back down and checked her side mirror, preparing to get over.
She’d have to look this serial killer up once she was out from behind the wheel. From the sound of it, he wasn’t anywhere near where she was. She had a campsite reserved not far from where she was now, at the northernmost part of the state where it touched Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Still, if he was targeting campgrounds and state parks, maybe she’d be better off finding a motel somewhere, or cutting her stay in Wisconsin short altogether. She didn’t trust her luck.
It wasn’t that she had terrible luck. From most people’s perspectives, she had amazing luck. She’d purchased a winning lottery ticket just a couple of months ago and had gotten a whopping sixty million dollars after taxes. But that had only happened after she got home early to find her boyfriend, Luis, with another woman. And she’d somehow stumbled into a murder cover-up on the very first day of her road trip. She had a sneaking suspicion that the universe was trying to balance out her winning the lottery. While she wasn’t usually superstitious, she also wasn’t about to take the chance with a serial killer on the loose. One in a million odds happened far too often for her comfort.
The GPS directed her off the main highway and onto narrow back roads that led through Wisconsin’s thick forests. It wasn’t too different from Michigan—she’d just crossed the border, after all—but there was a different feel in the air. Maybe it was just excitement, or maybe Wisconsin really did smell like adventure.
Finally, she saw the little wooden sign that said, Smokey’s Campground and turned onto the pothole-filled dirt drive. It was a small campground near the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest. She’d made the reservation online that morning, and wasn’t sure what to expect. The website only had a few pictures of the campground, but it promised RV hookups, which she desperately needed.
She nearly passed the sign for the self-sign-in kiosk. Stopping a bit too fast, she shut the vehicle down and took her purse with her—she had learned her lesson when the RV had been stolen near Marquette—and walked over to the kiosk, grabbing one of the forms out of the plastic box to fill out. She had to double check her email for her lot number, but it didn’t take her long to complete the form, which she dropped in the drop box, keeping a tag to put in her windshield. She’d already paid online, so now it was just a matter of finding the site. Maybe once she got settled, she’d come and grab one of those maps she’d spotted by the kiosk. She still wasn’t sure about this whole serial killer business, but it was gorgeous out here, and she wanted to take at least a short walk through the forest. Cicero would love it, even if it meant he had to wear his harness.
Finding the site was easier said than done. There were signs pointing toward the various numbers, but it turned out those were for the tent camping sites. Eventually, she found the RV sites all the way in the back. It seemed like a strange design choice until she realized there was a second entrance to the park. It was currently gated off, but it led out onto a paved road, which was probably where the maintenance trucks came in from to tend to the septic tank, and it was also the closest portion of the park to the main power lines. The RV spots, it seemed, were the only ones with electricity.
She’d passed by a handful of spots with tents already in them, and now that she’d found the RV section, she saw that about half of the spots were full. As a brand-new RV owner, it was unexpectedly fun to drive around and see what vehicles everyone else had. One of the two spots bordering hers was taken up by a silver Airstream and a handful of tents. A couple of people were outside tending to a fire in the rock-lined fire pit, and they waved at her as she pulled up. She waved back before getting out and going around to the back of the RV to detach her car so she could back into her spot.
She parked the car next to where she was going to set up her RV and returned to the front of the long vehicle to find one of the people who had waved at her—an older man with a scruffy white beard that did not look out of place in the Wisconsin wilderness and longer hair that was tied back with a bit of leather and made him look like a hippy—standing by the driver’s side door.
“Hello,” she said, a bit more cautiously than she intended. The radio’s warning about the serial killer was still on her mind.
“Hey, there,” he said. “I couldn’t help but notice you were alone. Do you want help backing this thing up? It’s always easier to have a spotter.”
She hesitated. Was he only asking this because she was a woman? Was he being sexist? Did it matter? The truth was, she could use some help. While her RV had cameras around the exterior, she still wasn’t very confident with it. Normally, she wouldn’t have second-guessed a stranger’s offer to help; there was no reason to start now.
“You know what, that would actually be really helpful,” she said, smiling. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He turned and, loudly enough that she jumped, bellowed, “Travis! Get out here now!” When there was no reply, he repeated the name even louder.
Rubbing her ears, she stared at him. Finally, someone yelled back, but it was a woman’s voice.
“Stop shouting, Martin!” A moment later, the woman who had been by the campfire with him came around the front of the RV. She was also middle-aged, and Tulia guessed they were married. “Travis and Paige hiked out to that lake, dear. Yelling’s not going to bring him back. I’ll help you get this young lady parked, there’s no need to carry on.”
“I thought he was still in the Airstream,” Martin grumbled. He turned to Tulia. “Sorry. You’ve got the two of us as spotters now, though. Why don’t you hop on in and start that baby up?” He gave the RV an admiring glance, and Tulia quickly took his advice. She pulled forward along the path until the sight of Martin and his wife, who were standing on opposite sides of the RV, waving told her to stop. With some help from them an
Before getting out, she sat behind the wheel for a moment, admiring the beautiful scenery. She’d done it. She was out of Michigan. Her journey had really and truly started, and she couldn’t wait to see what came next.
CHAPTER TWO
With his first victim found in May of this year and three more known victims since then, the Wisconsin Wanderer may one day have his name listed with the likes of Ed Gein and Jeffrey Dahmer. This killer has been confirmed to have had both male and female victims and seems to target people who are alone in campgrounds and state parks. Each one has been killed by multiple stab wounds to the chest. For this reason, we suggest caution for anyone who is thinking of going camping or hiking while he’s still at large. For the last known location of the Wisconsin Wanderer, click below.
Tulia clicked the link and saw a red dot glowing on Wisconsin’s southern border. Just like the radio had said, his—or her; no one seemed to have any idea who this person was, though the new site referred to them as male since, statistically, it was more likely—latest victim had been found just a couple of days ago. The comments on the news site speculated that he had left the state, and there was an alert out in Illinois about him.
“We can’t be that unlucky twice, can we, Cicero?” she asked. The African grey was sitting on his perch by the small table in the RV’s kitchen area, where she had her laptop set up. He was ignoring her, his pale eyes focused through the window at the greenery beyond. She could tell he was eager to get out and explore; he’d been in his cage all day while she drove, and needed to stretch his wings as much as she needed to stretch her legs.
Shutting her laptop, she decided to put the question of the serial killer on hold for the moment. She was already set up—Martin and his wife, Sue, had helped her connect the RV to the water, sewer, and electric hookups since it had been her first time doing it—and there wasn’t much else to do around the RV. It was evening, but there was still enough light for a quick walk around the campground. She wanted to get the lay of the land, and then in the morning, she thought she might hit the trails. She could check the news first and see if the Wisconsin Wanderer had been sighted anywhere else. It would be just like her to blunder into a serial killer who was supposed to be in another state.
Grabbing Cicero’s harness out of the bin she kept his stuff in and a few treats to use as bribes, she wrestled it onto him, avoiding a bite this time around. While he cracked open the nut she gave him, she changed out of her sandals and into her tennis shoes, then grabbed her canister of pepper spray, her phone, and her RV keys and shoved them into her shorts pockets so she wouldn’t have to carry her whole purse. Letting Cicero step up onto her hand, she took one last look around the RV to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, and then climbed down out of the vehicle.
The scents of campfire smoke and greenery hit her, along with a wall of warm, humid air. She took a deep breath, feeling something inside of her relax. It was hard to imagine a serial killer stalking this little campground, with the sound of kids shouting and dogs barking in the distance.
“Hey, Tulia, right?”
She turned at the sound of her name and saw Martin waving at her from beside the fire. It was really going now, and they had put a metal grate over it. Sue was getting a package of hotdogs out from a cooler next to her chair. They had been joined by two young adults: a woman who looked like she might be around twenty, and a young man who Tulia guessed was in his late teens. He had his eyes glued to his phone, but the young woman was gazing at something across the campground. Tulia followed her gaze to see a man at one of the tent sites setting up a hammock between two trees. He was too far away to see many details in the fading light, but she could recognize the look of interest in the young woman’s eyes.
“Yep, that’s me,” she said, turning back to Martin. He was staring at Cicero; most people did when they first saw him. Before he could ask, she added, “And this is my African grey, Cicero.”
“I didn’t know you could bring a bird camping. That’s neat. Hey, Sue, I know you said you don’t want to get another dog yet, but what about—”
“Nope,” his wife said without even looking up from where she was skewering the hotdogs.
Martin huffed, but it seemed good-natured. He was smiling as he turned back to Tulia. “I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Paige, and my son, Travis.” He gestured at the young man and the young woman, both of whom gave Tulia distracted nods. “We always wanted to do a big camping trip when the kids were younger, and we’re finally doing it. We’ve been all over the state this summer. Paige graduated from Lawrence University in May, and this is our last family trip together before she heads out to start her career. She got a job in … what was it again, sweetheart? It’s some place in Chicago, they do something with modern art. “
The pride was evident in his voice, and Tulia smiled at him. “That’s great. I hope you guys have a good trip.”
“Do you want a hotdog?” Sue asked, finally looking up from the skewers. “We have plenty to share.”
“Thanks, but I have food in my RV,” Tulia said, not wanting to intrude. “Plus, the smoke isn’t good for my bird. I was just going to walk around the campground a bit, then probably turn in for the night.”
“Well, you’re welcome to join us if you change your mind,” Martin said. “Right, kids?”
He got vague grunts of affirmation from both of them. Paige looked her way and gave her a quick, polite smile, then returned to watching the guy across the campground.
“Ugh, just go ask him to join us,” Travis muttered to his sister, finally looking up from the phone. “You keep staring. It’s creepy. He’s going to think you’re weird.”
“You know what, maybe I will,” Paige said, moving to get up.
“Hey, wait,” Travis said. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. I don’t want some stranger joining us. Uh, no offense, lady.” He added the last with an embarrassed look at Tulia.
“Kids,” Sue cut in, sounding tired. “You’re both adults. Try acting like it.”
Tulia smiled and waved as she started down the path, feeling a bit of a pang as she left the family behind to argue. She didn’t have any siblings, but it made her miss her own parents. She’d only been gone for about a week at this point, and it wasn’t as if she saw them every day when she was home, but it could be months before she saw them in person again. I’ll video call them tonight, she thought, pushing the pang of loneliness aside. They’ll be glad to know I made it safely. She wasn’t about to tell them about the serial killer. They would just worry. She’d be safe enough in her RV for the night, at least, and in the morning, she could decide whether she wanted to move on.
She followed the looping path through the campsites, both empty and full. Occasionally, she raised her hand and let Cicero flap his wings in the evening air until he got bored with it. When she spotted the kiosk where she had signed in, she headed toward it, wanting to grab one of those maps. Sue had mentioned that Travis and Paige were at a lake, and Tulia wanted to see how far away it was. It would be neat to hike out there in the morning, if it was close by.
She reached the kiosk and opened the plastic box to grab one of the maps, letting Cicero stand on the kiosk’s rough wood as she closed it again. She folded the map and put it in her pocket, then picked up her bird and turned just as a man came around the corner of the kiosk, nearly bumping into her. They both took quick steps back, and Tulia raised a hand to comfort Cicero, who had been startled by the man’s sudden appearance.
“I’m sorry,” the man said, raising a hand to straighten his glasses. He had short brown hair, and was carrying a garbage bag. Tulia glanced at the dumpster across the path from her, and took a step back so she would be out of his way.
