your mental health?" he asked. "I heard about Soder."
"I'm rattled."
"I have a cure."
Oh, boy.
He put the truck in gear and headed for the exit. "I know what you're thinking," he said. "And that wasn't where I was going. I was going to suggest work."
"I knew that."
He looked over at me and grinned. "You want me bad."
I did. God help me. "We're going north," I said. "There's a chance that Evelyn and Dotty are at the campground with the little trailers."
"I know the campground."
The road was empty at this time of day. Two lanes winding along the Delaware River and through the Pennsylvania countryside. Patches of woods and clusters of pretty houses bordered the road. Ranger was silent while he drove. He was paged twice and both times he read the message and didn't respond. Both times he kept the message to himself. Normal behavior for Ranger. Ranger led a secret life.
The pager buzzed a third time. Ranger unclipped it from his belt and looked at the readout. He cleared the screen, reclipped the pager, and continued to watch the road.
"Hello," I said.
He cut his eyes to me.
Ranger and I were oil and water. He was the Man of Mystery, and I was Ms. Curiosity. We both knew this. Ranger tolerated it with mild amusement. I tolerated it with teeth clenched.
I dropped my eyes to his pager. "Jeanne Ellen?" I asked. I couldn't help myself.
"Jeanne Ellen is on her way to Puerto Rico," Ranger said.
Our eyes held for a moment, and he turned his attention back to the road. End of conversation.
"It's a good thing you have a nice ass," I said to him. Because you sure as hell can be annoying.
"My ass isn't my best part, babe," Ranger said, smiling at me.
And that truly did end the conversation. I had no follow-up.
Ten minutes later we approached the campground. It sat between the road and the river and could easily go unnoticed. It didn't have a sign. And for all I knew, it didn't have a name. A dirt road slanted down to a couple acres of grass. Small ramshackle cabins and trailers were scattered along the river's edge, each with a picnic table and grill. It had an air of abandonment at this time of year. And it felt slightly disreputable, and intriguing, like a gypsy encampment.
Ranger idled at the entrance, and we scanned the surroundings.
"No cars," Ranger said. He eased the truck down the drive and parked. He reached under the dash, removed a Glock, and we got out of the truck.
We systematically went down the row of cabins and trailers, trying doors, looking in windows, checking the grills for recent use. The lock was broken on the front door to the fourth cabin. Ranger rapped once and opened the door.
The front room had a small kitchen area at one end. Not high-tech. Sink, stove, fridge circa 1950. The floor was covered with scuffed linoleum. There was a full-size couch at the far end of the room, a square wood table, and four chairs. The only other room to the cabin was a bedroom with two sets of bunks. The bunks had mattresses but no sheets or blankets. The bathroom was minuscule. A sink and a toilet. No shower or tub. The toothpaste in the sink looked fresh.
Ranger picked a pink plastic little girl's barrette off the floor. "They've moved on," he said.
We checked the refrigerator. It was empty. We went outside and investigated the remaining cabins and trailers. All the others were locked. We checked the Dumpster and found a single small bag of garbage.
"Do you have any other leads?" Ranger asked me.
"No."
"Let's walk through their houses."
I PICKED MY car up at Washington's Crossing and drove it across the river. I parked in front of my parents' house and got back into Ranger's truck. We went to Dotty's house first. Ranger parked in the driveway, removed the Glock from under the dash again, and we went to the front door.
Ranger had his hand on the doorknob and his handydandy lockpicking tool in his hand. And the door swung open. No lock picking necessary. It would appear we were coming in second in the breaking-and-entering race.
"Stay here," Ranger said. He stepped into the living room and did a quick survey. He walked through the rest of the house with his gun drawn. He returned to the living room and motioned me in.
I closed and locked the door behind me. "Nobody home?"
"No. There are drawers pulled out and papers scattered