Cape Cod Homicide – Saturdays this fall on ID (…investigate…)

Betsy Wetsy? Is that you?
Betsy Wetsy? Is that you?

Lucky for us, friends of ours had a beautiful cottage in Mashpee for the weekend and invited us down for a night, so we just got back from a fabulous day on the Cape. The weather was crappy, but the company was fantastic and more than made up for the wind and grey clouds spitting out the occasional shower. Seven of us that stayed the night – our amazing hosts, my sister and her husband, my brother, and my husband and me. The property was beautiful and immaculate and designed like a Pottery Barn catalog which left me both in awe of the well placed decor and anxious about my lack of interior design skill. (This is the very reason I throw away Pottery Barn catalogs when I get them in the mail – not only am I coveting all these things I can’t afford, but I also know that even if everything on those pages were delivered to my house at no cost to me, I wouldn’t have a clue of what to do with them.)

The seven of us spent the afternoon shopping in Falmouth center. Actually, that’s not necessarily accurate unless you consider telling the bartender you’d like a Bloody Mary or a beer “shopping.” What I should say is that while the three females went shopping (even that’s misleading because none of us spent more than $15 — we did, however, look at a lot of expensive things that were for sale) the four men situated themselves at an Irish bar to watch whatever sporting event was playing on the tv. By the time we caught up with them, they were having a conversation with an irate ‘gentleman’ who was looking to stir up trouble by asking antagonizing questions about politics, the economy, and pretty much any controversial issue he thought might get a rise out of anyone. The bartender had already warned the guys that their new companion’s “lights are on, but no one’s home” so they weren’t feeding into his provocations. The guy did get himself worked up enough to get kicked out by the owner, so we spent the rest of the time finishing our drinks and watching the door carefully, expecting our new unstable friend to come back armed the teeth to extract his revenge.

Upon arriving back at the cottage, my brother points out a nearby trail through the woods he planned to explore. My sister and I decided to join him, so the three of us headed out. Because the sun was hidden behind an overcast sky, the late afternoon was cool and dark. We crunched our way over the twigs, leaves, and pine needles until we stopped to examine some random stuff lying in the dirt. Luggage. There were suitcases. There were two open, empty suitcases with their contents strewn about off to the side of the path. Most of it was indistinguishable clothing – random pieces of material, and maybe a bed sheet. There was also a small blue vase and some stuffed animals. But the freakiest find was the doll, stripped of any clothing, with twigs, leaves and dirt matted in her disheveled black hair. Being that we were deep enough in the woods not to see any other people or buildings while the sun was setting on an October evening, this was fantastically creepy. My sister wanted to turn back (wimp!) but I pushed on, hoping for more clues. (Clues of what, I have no idea, but I watch way too much Investigation Discovery channel so I was sure I was solving a mystery that would someday be featured on a new series titled something cheesy like Siblings Solving Secrets or Cape Cod Homicide.) The path continued on for a while but ended somewhat abruptly where we found some long wooden planks, an indiscernible appliance that may have at one time served as a stove or refrigerator, and an unattached kitchen sink lying in the dirt. At this point we headed back to tell everyone else about our adventure (and to escape what we hoped wasn’t the crazy bar guy’s camp ground.)

While we ate, we laughed about all the creepiness that was our walk in the woods and, feeling adventurous, everyone decided they wanted to see for themselves. It was completely dark by this time, so everyone grabbed their cell phones to use them as flashlights. We found the suitcases, luggage, and doll and had a good laugh about the insanity of it all. No one was interested in hiking further to find the sink because there was wine and heat (and lockable doors) at the cottage. We went back to laugh, eat, play games, laugh a lot more, and have a thoroughly enjoyable time before heading off to bed.

After we all gorged ourselves with an enormous breakfast, my brother, husband, and I had to leave a bit earlier than everyone else. This provided me the perfect opportunity to run into the woods, grab the doll, and run back to position it on my sister’s windshield, looking in through the driver’s side with one hand raised as if to say, “Hi, you’re going to have reoccurring nightmares about me for many years.”

She found it. I know she found it because she sent me a text and thinks there might be something wrong with me. Mission accomplished.

~ Thanks, S&D! ❀ ~

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