Josie turned at the sign, bouncing a little in her seat as the lane winding through the center of the “retreat” was packed dirt, pocked with ruts and holes. On either side were rows of huge, cream-colored canvas tents fitted atop wooden platforms. Unlike the RV and camping areas, which were tightly packed, the glamping tents were spaced well apart from one another with at least twelve feet in every direction, plus room for a vehicle to park alongside them.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Turner said. “Those things are bigger than my damn apartment.”
Turner was right. They were quite large. Josie didn’t know the standard sizes of glamping tents, but she’d guess these were roughly twenty feet by twenty feet. Although Josie liked neither camping nor glamping, she knew enough from listening to her sister drone on about both that these were bell tents. They were cone-shaped. Their roofs were held up by a single pole in the center of the structure. On the exterior, guy lines extended from the edges of the canvas, pulling the material taut. Each tent had a small awning that extended over two wooden steps. There were more cutesy wooden signs standing at the entrances to the tents, adorned with artificial flowers and more solar-powered balloon fairy lights. A different word had been stenciled on each sign:Mirth,Cheer,Delight.
“What’s with these weird-ass signs?” Turner said. He pointed at the next one. “Does that really say ‘whimsy?’”
Josie slowed the car. “It really does.”
“Were the owners of this place high when they came up with this crap?”
Ignoring him, Josie searched for any sign of their colleagues. All she saw were tent occupants peeking from behind their unzipped doorways. Other glampers stood out front of their temporary lodgings, murmuring among themselves. Their faces were lined with worry, their bodies stiff with tension. They must be getting close. Turner still seemed fixated on the signs in front of the tents they passed.Bliss,Joy,Magic,Charm.
Ahead on their right, one of their patrol officers, Conlen, emerged from a dirt crossroad and waved them over. Josie made the turn only to pull to a stop in front of a Denton cruiser parked sideways to block vehicular traffic.
Josie left her SUV there, locking it up once she and Turner joined Conlen. “Follow me,” he said brusquely. “Decedents are in theJubilationtent.”
As they walked, Turner shortened his strides to keep pace with Josie. “Jubilation? Are you kidding me?”
“Wish I was,” Conlen muttered.
Along this lane, more glampers gathered on the front steps of their tents, looking wary and afraid.
“It’s two hundred degrees out here,” Turner complained. “And this has got to be some kind of record for humidity. Why would anyone want to stay in one of these things?”
“Each one is outfitted with a portable AC unit,” Conlen said.
Turner shook his head. “AC units, electricity. In tents. But no security cameras.”
“We’re in semi-rural Pennsylvania,” Josie said. “At a campsite.”
“A glorified campsite,” Turner corrected. “Again, I ask: why not get a hotel?”
Both Josie and Conlen ignored him.
“These things just zip up?” Turner asked, falling a few steps behind. “That’s it? That’s how you get in and out?”
“That’s how tents work,” Conlen said over his shoulder.
Finally, Officer Dougherty came into view, standing outside a strip of crime scene tape in front of the tent markedJubilation. He held a clipboard so he could record everyone who entered and exited the perimeter.
“Thanks, smartass,” Turner groused. “I didn’t realize. My point is they’re not very secure.”
“Also how tents work,” Josie said but she knew what he was getting at—all that stood between a tent’s occupants and someone who wanted to harm them were two flaps of canvas and a zipper. It was one of the many reasons she disliked camping.
“Is there aPain in the Asstent?” Turner snapped. “If there’s not, maybe they could name one in your honor.”
Josie quirked a brow at him. “That’s going to cost you a dollar.”
“Bullshit.”
From several feet away, Josie caught the unmistakable odor of decomposition. Even with a portable air-conditioning unit, she was willing to bet it was warm enough in the tent to accelerate the process. “The two females were deceased when responders arrived? Or rescue efforts didn’t work?”
“No rescue efforts,” Conlen answered. “They were already deceased, probably for a few hours.”
“Signs of trauma?” Josie asked.
“None that myself or Dougherty could see. It looks like they died in their sleep but, uh, the scene is a little weird.”
