“Uh,” Chuck said, his eyes widening.

“Shut up,” Jaw hissed.

“What are you doing?” I said, my heart rate escalating. I was pretty sure my voice was shaking, too. “Why were you inside?”

Jaw shifted his hands so whatever he was holding was on the other side of his body and I couldn't see it.

“Nothin',” Chuck said. “Just...”

“Shut up,” Jaw hissed again. “And keep goin'.”

Chuck looked unsure of himself, but then got himself moving toward the other end of the deck.

“What did you take?” I demanded.

“Nothin',” Chuck said.

“Not you,” I said, then pointed at Jaw. My fingers were trembling. “You. What do you have in your hands?”

Jaw reached up a hand and messed with his sunglasses, like he was adjusting them. “I don't have anything in my hands.”

“Yes, you do. Did you steal something from us?”

“Run!” Chuck yelled and took off.

Jaw hesitated for a moment, then took off after him.

They both jumped down the stairs, their feet smashing into the gravel, their shoes kicking rocks everywhere as they started to run.

I stood there for a moment, frozen. They'd been inside our cabin. They'd taken something. I wasn't sure what it was, but they'd stolen something. And it was the second time they'd messed with us.

I was a little scared, but I was mad, too. A lot mad.

I scrambled around the corner of the cabin and jumped into the golf cart. I unhooked the charger from the port, turned the key in the small slot and hit the button to reverse. The cart jerked backward and when the tires hit the pavement, I pushed the button again and flattened the accelerator to floor. The cart lurched forward, the electric engine whining as it powered the cart as fast as possible. I turned the wheel left and took off in the direction they'd run.

The posted signs listed 5 MPH as the speed limit, but I was exceeding that, pushing the cart to it's full speed of...maybe 7 MPH. I saw my two burglars up ahead and, while I wasn't losing them, I wasn't exactly catching up to them, either. I ran a couple of the small stop signs where the narrow streets intersected and was the recipient of several dirty looks from people walking on the paths. I ignored them and stepped harder on the pedal, leaning forward as if that would somehow help the cart go faster.

I rounded the corner at the end of the street and Chuck and Jaw were still up ahead of me, still running and looking back over their shoulders. I seemed to be losing ground. They were heading down the road toward the clubhouse and what I assumed was the exit to the campground. If they got off the grounds, I'd never get them.

I pressed harder on the pedal.

Which might've pushed me to 8 MPH.

They scrambled over the corner of the last lot and headed down the hill toward the entrance. I stayed on the pavement and turned the corner behind them. They were picking up speed as they went downhill but my cart was locked in at the same speed, as if some invisible force was preventing me from going any faster even though we were going downhill.

I was going to lose them.

I saw another cart approaching from the bottom of the hill, having just come in through the entry gates.

I leaned out of my cart and screamed, “Help! Stop them!”

Chuck and Jaw both looked back over their shoulders.

The cart slowed to a halt, but no one got out.

“Stop them!” I screamed again. “They broke into my camper!”

Chuck and Jaw were closing on the cart in front of them, but still looking over their shoulder at me.

Then Wayne Hackerman got out of the cart and clotheslined them both with his big fat arm.

TWENTY SEVEN

Both Chuck and Jaw were still laying on the ground when the police arrived. Hackerman had clobbered them pretty good and they didn't seem too eager to get up. He'd already called the police by the time I got to the bottom of the hill and they were there just a few minutes later. They stood them up, cuffed both of them and walked them toward the police car. I gave the arresting officer a quick rundown of what I'd witnessed and Hackerman explained that he'd seen me yelling after them and how he'd stopped them.

The officer handed me a small black box. “Is this what they took?”

I looked at it. “I guess. I don't even know what it is.”

“It's a router,” Hackerman said. “For your Internet.”

“Why would they steal my router?”

Hackerman shrugged.

“Probably to resell,” the police officer said, taking it back from me. “I'll need to take this in for the report, but we'll get it back to you soon.”

“It's not really mine,” I said, completely confused. “It's...Delilah's, I guess. It was in the camper we are staying in.”

The officer shrugged. “Whoever it belongs to, we'll get it back to you as soon as possible.”

“Is there a report or something I need to fill out?” I asked.

The officer raised his eyebrows. “A what?”

“I don't know. I just thought, since you were taking that,” I said, motioning to the router. “I just thought I might have to fill something out.”

“I know where to return it,” he said briskly.

He walked toward his car, checked the doors, got in the driver's side, made a quick U-turn and drove off.

I turned to Hackerman. “Thank you. For stopping them.”

He nodded. “Sure. I saw you yelling up there and I know those two are never up to any good.”

“They're around a lot?”

“Enough to be a nuisance,” he said. He reached for his sunglasses and took them off. He inspected them, then lifted the corner of his shirt and polished the lenses. “Couple of summers now. I know Delilah hasn't wanted them around and Harvey used to chase them off.”

That was exactly what Delilah told me after our first encounter with them.

“I'm not sure they'd really done anything wrong before,” Hackerman continued. “So maybe now she can really keep them out of here.”

“It's going to be someone else's problem,” Delilah said.

We both turned. She was coming down the hill, her cell phone clutched in her hand. Her face looked freshly washed, devoid of the tears and streaked makeup I'd seen not too long ago. Her stern expression told me she knew what had gone on with Chuck and Jaw.

Hackerman repositioned his sunglasses, shielding his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

She held up her phone. “I got the call about those two clowns getting arrested. And then I got two calls from campers worried about safety here.” She looked at the phone, then back to Hackerman. “I am done.”

“Done with what?” I asked.

She cleared her throat. “Windy Vista. I'm going to sell it.”

“What?” Hackerman's voice squeaked with surprise.. “You can't sell this place.”

“Watch me,” Delilah said. “We're circling the drain, Wayne. Sky high debt with no money coming in. All we've had are problems this summer and they've just driven down the interest in coming here. No one wants to take a chance on parking their campers here. The only thing we're known as now is that campground with the dead guy.” She shook her head. “Now we've got two idiots scaring the crap out of everyone. I'm just done. I don't have the money or the energy to keep going.”

“So you're just going to sell it then?” I asked. “Just like that?” She'd been so adamant earlier that she wasn't interested in selling, She'd yelled at Davis Ellington and she'd told me in no uncertain terms that she wanted to keep it.

She sighed. “It's not just like that, Daisy. It's been building. I think when Harvey was alive, he was just holding it at bay. But now that he's gone? There's nothing to hold it off.” She shook her head again and I couldn't tell if she was frustrated or sad or angry. “So that's it.” She gestured at the office. “If you'll excuse me, I've got to make some phone calls about seeing if we can get a security patrol or something so everyone will feel a little safer. Hopefully they won't mind working for free.”