“Yeah, bummer,” I agreed, with a backward glance at the red Subaru. I decided not to mention what had happened to my van. When possible, I’d learned, do not upset a very pregnant woman.
“It’s the second time I’ve been a crime victim in this park,” Rorry said bitterly.
“The second time?” I prompted as I followed her to the tiny kitchenette.
Rorry opened the freezer section of a small refrigerator. “The first time was after Nate died. When I had to go down to see the coroner, some kid broke in and stole our TV and Nate’s videocamera. The cops caught him with the television, but he denied stealing the camera. The little creep.”
“For heaven’s sake,” I muttered as I tucked the casseroles into the only freezer space free of icy stalactites and stalagmites. Respect for personal property was a
