Read The Body in the Landscape (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 5) for Free Online

eye contact, ending the conversation.
    “I don’t know either.” Jenny Sparks giggled nervously. “Wouldn’t want to be caught without my makeup on.”
    “ I ’d need to call my sponsors first,” said LaToya.
    “Don’t use my name either,” said Rick. “I don’t like appearing in pictures.”
    Risa exchanged a look with Bob. “Usually people are happy to be on the show.”
    “Don’t worry about it, honey.” Bob reached around Peach to give Risa a squeeze, causing more martini spillage. “Peach and I will be the stars of the show. And that giant hawg. I think we’re dividing into groups anyway, so as long as my guide doesn’t care about being on TV, I don’t see a problem. More face time for me.”
    Risa’s neck reddened and she busied herself pulling contracts from her briefcase. “Everyone needs to sign. Just check yes or no to the TV appearance, and write an addendum if you want your name used or not.”
    As the contestants examined the fine print of their contracts, I leaned into Todd for a whisper. “I don’t understand why everyone is so spooked by appearing on Bob’s reality show.”
    Todd nodded. “I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
    “Me too. That’s rich folks for you,” I said. “Always worried about appearances.”
    “Rick’s not rich.”
    “True. It’s almost like they don’t want to get caught doing something on camera they shouldn’t.” I slanted a look at the party examining the paperwork. “Except for the ones wanting to be on camera doing stuff they shouldn’t.”

Five

      
    Their paperwork finished, the group returned to sipping drinks and comparing hunt stories, which began to sound like episodes of Deadliest Catch . My mind was still on possible reasons for TV appearance refusals. On the off chance Rockin’ The Hunt could be dubbed for Max’s ex-commie homeland, I suspected a few people there might use the show for a Bear tracking device. Rick Miller, on the other hand, had surprised me. Folks of Rick’s ilk normally chambered a “hey y’all, lookie here” whenever someone broke out a camera. YouTube was full of our willingness to look like idiots for the world to watch. And as for the Sparks, why would they care if the cameras caught them stalking Hogzilla? They had said they were regulars at Big Rack.
    These people made not one bit of sense.
    I turned to Todd as I often did in times of confusion. “You want to get out of here for a minute? I’d take another beer, but fresh air is much cheaper at this place.”
    He grinned and nodded.
    “Maybe we can check on something while we’re out.”
    I wanted a distraction. The local phone book had contained Abel Spencer’s address. My lodge room had contained a local phone book. Some would call that a sign. Or standard hotel phone book practice. Either way, I felt a quick visit to Mr. Spencer’s homestead was in order. Just to round out my curiosity on the man. I couldn’t focus on schmoozing while my brain kept taking trips to what’s-the-deal-with-Abel-Spencer land. I’ll admit my brain doesn’t always work like others. It runs along the tracks toward Morbidity and Inquisitiveness Junction. Often with a quick stop at Meddling-ville. We’ll just chalk it up to my artistic nature and not to my need to fix lemonade from my life’s constant barrage of lemons.
    Anyway, Todd was used to my brain if others were not.

      
    “ How was your conversation with the Swinton PD?” I asked Todd while clinging to an armrest as to avoid whiplash on the rutted road we traveled.
    Not a metaphorical road, mind you, although some might find that true as well.
    We had borrowed the keys to Max’s Range Rover and followed the dirt road from the lodge. Evening had not quite sprung, but the clouds had left the late afternoon in what felt like a perpetual dusk.
    “Did they question your motives for being out in the woods?”
    “No.” Todd kept his eyes on the pocked road. “Why? We weren’t trespassing, were we?”
    “Not