“He has absolutely no intention of doing that,” Tessa responded, realizing that the discussion was leading to a dead end. She tried to change the topic. “Harrison, I spoke with Telford Reed. He—”
The mayor interrupted her in midsentence and said: “That’s another crook they should be investigating carefully. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had something to do with the murders. He was interested in getting rid of Hank.”
Wow. Previously Harrison Miller had been the slippery local politician who was able to manipulate people with his lacquered charm. He executed the backstabbing secretly. But the world he had ruled with an iron fist as the uncrowned emperor had been turned upside down. The homicide investigators from Vancouver now ruled the roost he was used to controlling without competition. Except from the town doctor, Kenneth Griffins. This Griffins man simply wouldn’t leave him in peace. The doctor had even gone so far as to saddle Harrison with a daughter-in-law he didn’t approve of, especially not as the wife of his oldest son, Hank. And now Tessa had managed to get herself involved in exactly this mess.
She made another attempt to get the discussion on a different track. “What do you have against Telford? Are you mad because of the outfitter license you wanted to buy for Hank? That in any case wouldn’t have been a good investment. Hank and Fran wanted to move away from Whatou Lake to settle down on a farm in Grouse Valley.”
Harrison Miller got so mad he jammed on the brakes and the pickup went into a spin. For a moment Tessa thought she would be thrown out of the car. But he got the vehicle back under control and drove on. Tessa was still shaking in her boots. Luckily she was wearing the seat belt, something the people in Whatou Lake rarely wore. The local police were not in the habit of noticing when someone didn’t.
Harrison Miller took a deep breath and roared: “Hank did not want to move away. He didn’t want to move at all until the Indians began shooting bears. And Tsaytis Chelin and his band didn’t do anything about it! That’s terrible for business when Indians kill bears. But I’m sure you don’t want to know anything about that.”
Tessa sat there, stunned. This confrontation had gone even worse than she feared. He’s lost it. Completely lost it.
She could see his pulse racing through the veins in his temple. His hands were clamped to the steering wheel. But Harrison was not yet finished.
“Fran is in bed with them,” he hissed. “It’s fine with her if the economy goes belly-up. For her there is only the environment, environment, environment. What are we supposed to live on? I’m telling you. Hank didn’t want to move away; it was only Fran who did, and now both of them are dead.”
Tessa was frozen with fear. She held fast to her backpack and didn’t say anything, in the hope that Harrison would not get even more furious. They were about five hundred meters from where the floatplane was docked. It was only after she had gotten out of the car that she asked through the open door: “All of them are dead? Fran, too?”
An evil grin spread across his face. “Not necessarily. Why don’t you ask your father where he’s hidden her so she can’t reveal anything?” He put the car into drive. “The police have no doubt already questioned him about it.”
With a loud bang, she slammed the door of the pickup.
Harrison Miller drove off with squealing tires.
She stopped where she was and took a deep breath in order to calm her nerves.
“Was that Harrison?” The voice made her turn around.
Kratz Hilder leaned against the wall of the building where he had his office. His firm’s logo decorated his baseball cap. Whatou Wings. He held a hot dog in one hand and a can of Mountain Dew in the other.
Kratz was a relatively small man, but he was a big-time flyer. As a pilot, there was nobody better than him. Had he heard the end of the conversation between her and Harrison?
The pilot didn’t seem to be bothered. “You’re coming with us today, Tessa, right?”
“Yes, I just have to run into the office to pay for the ticket.”
“We’ll be taking off in ten minutes.” He cleared his throat. “That’s an awful thing that happened with Fran’s family. I just can’t believe that something like that could happen here.”
She was tired of hearing people say this. Kratz probably did feel that way. In his eyes, Whatou Lake was an oasis inhabited by decent, honest people. Earlier, when the land claims hearings were going on, she had often flown with Kratz. She had also helped him to get more money from the government for the care of his disabled daughter.
She shouldered her backpack and turned around once again. “Kratz, in the days before the murders, did you drop anyone off at Whitesand Bay?”
“No, not at Whitesand Bay. But at Beaver Lake.”
“Where on the lake?”
“At the north end. “
At Fran’s cabin. “Who?”
The pilot looked at his half-eaten hot dog. “Unfortunately I can’t tell you, Tessa. The RCMP doesn’t want this information to get out.”
So Ron Halprin was also in the picture. Didn’t have to mean anything. Beaver Lake was very popular with hobby fishermen. But most of them got there on four-wheelers, in pickups, or by ATV. This time somebody took a plane. Somebody who was in a hurry.
“When was that?”
“On Sunday. No, it’s better if I keep my mouth shut.”
On Sunday. Two days before the murders. Tessa remained confused. Nothing added up. A flight with Kratz. The murderer wouldn’t take such a risk. Maybe it had only been a tourist. She thanked the pilot and went around the corner into the office. Slenka, his wife, was standing behind the counter. She was obviously shocked when she saw Tessa. Most people didn’t know how they should react to gruesome events.
Tessa tried to make it easier for her and simply said: “I’m so glad you have room for me so I won’t have to lose any valuable time.”
Slenka’s face didn’t relax. “I’m so sorry for you all, Tessa. Hopefully, they’ll find Fran soon. This waiting . . . must be terrible.”
“Anything that helps to find Fran is worth gold, Slenka. I’ve been wondering why strangers are flying to the north end of Beaver Lake. Fran and Hank have a cabin there.”
Slenka disclosed nothing. She printed Tessa’s receipt. “I don’t understand the police. They have so many people from Vancouver here. And the only thing they’ve done is to arrest the park ranger.”
Tessa stared at her. “They arrested the park ranger?”
“Yes, I heard that half an hour ago. But nobody knows why. It’s really crazy.”
Tessa pictured the ranger’s car coming toward her very early in the morning at Tennigan Park. She had told Ron Halprin about this. Strange.
She took her receipt and quickly left the office. A white-and-yellow floatplane rocked next to the wooden pier. Two suitcases, some packages, and a backpack waited to be put into the plane’s baggage hole. A man filled the gas tank.
The sky was gray, but fortunately Tessa could only feel a light wind. Nothing that could disrupt the flight. She clicked on Halprin’s number and was sent right to voicemail. Nothing worked today with the cell phones. She still hadn’t heard anything from Savannah or her father. She decided to send Halprin a text message: I’ve heard that the ranger has been arrested. Anything to do with Fran? Flying to Watershed Lodge. Hope to find out more about Fran there.
The man on the pier waved at her; he wanted her backpack on board. An older couple waiting next to her introduced themselves. American tourists from Nevada. They told her they couldn’t wait to get some photos of grizzlies. There was also a woman about Tessa’s age waiting to depart. She was wearing a gray jacket and her hiking boots looked expensive. Tessa went up to her.
“You’re flying to Watershed Lodge?”
The young woman nodded. “You too?”
“Yes. Nice that the weather is cooperating.”
“Do you often take floatplanes?”
“Used to. Not anymore. I lived here until five years ago.”
Tessa kept digging: “Are you perhaps the new community nurse for the Sitklat’l?”
“No, I’m a wildlife biologist. My name is Lynn Prett. I’m leading a research project about grizzly bears in the watershed area.”
A bear expert. Tessa’s interest grew.
“Terrific. Are you from Vancouver?”
“Originally I’m from Port Moody. Now I work for the University of Victoria.”
“I’m a lawyer in Vancouver. My name is Tessa Griffins.”
The researcher’s face tensed up. “But you’re not . . .”
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“Oh, my God!” Lynn Prett’s face strained in shock. “It must be terrible for your family.”
“Yes, it is.”
The propeller began to move.
They climbed into the small single-engine machine. The tourist from Nevada in the front, the three women in the back. Tessa sat next to Lynn. She fastened her seat belt and put on her headphones, which connected all the passengers.
The floatplane taxied out of the bay and took off. It made a loop and rose higher into the air. Its wings almost seemed to touch the flanks of the coastal mountains. The houses of Whatou Lake looked tiny and insignificant from up above, the mountains like stony giants, from which you could only escape via boat.
Suddenly the scenery changed. The land became flat and the coastal forest overran every piece of ground within its reach. It spared only the lakes and the rivers.
From above, the coast of Whatou Lake looked like a human head seen in profile, with its forehead, nose, and lips. Watershed Lodge was located where the chin met the neck. A fjordlike arm of the Pacific Ocean cut into the neck so that the head looked half-decapitated.
When Tessa let her eye wander over the forest below her, it seemed endless, and she asked herself what RCMP helicopter pilots could possibly discover when they were searching for Fran. It would be easier to find a needle in a haystack than a missing person in this wilderness.
It was loud in the interior of the plane. The American couple bombarded Kratz Hilder with questions, which everyone could hear in their headphones, and the pilot willingly replied.
The tourists didn’t know who Lynn Prett was, and the pilot only revealed her identity when the Americans asked questions about the bears. Lynn was perfectly happy to give them interesting bear facts: “We are studying the grizzlies for a project at the University of Victoria: their way of life, mating and breeding, food sources, how they move around in their territory, their social relationships. We have observed, for instance, that the mothers often show up with their young at riverbanks, when tourists are there on the viewing platform. The mother bears do that because then the adult male bears stay away. They can pose a danger to the cubs, because they are vying with them for the attention of the female bears.”
This is the case not only among grizzlies, Tessa thought sadly. Human adult males are dangerous for children. Fortunately nobody could read her thoughts; the researcher was in her element and continued talking. “I’ll explain all this to you on our tour. You won’t be disappointed.”
“Aren’t you afraid of grizzlies?” one of the tourists asked.
“I have a healthy respect for them, but I’m more afraid of aggressive dogs than of grizzlies,” Lynn Prett answered.
Up to now the media had not reported anything about the ranger’s arrest or the bears that were killed. Their interest had concentrated solely on the murdered people. Tessa figured that would change as soon as the reporters got wind of it. Maybe they would see a connection between the murders and the dead grizzlies. Tessa wondered whether she should question the young bear researcher. Lynn Prett surely must have given some thought to all these events.
Fifteen minutes later another arm of the ocean came into view, and a large red roof, shaped like a rectangular letter C. This was Watershed Lodge, which consisted of a building with three wings that floated on the water of a sheltered bay. The rain forest surrounded it like a protective wall. Tessa counted a half dozen boats docked at the pier. Kratz’s little machine came down. The pontoons rattled across the water. Slowly the plane taxied to the lodge. A man ran out on the wooden pier and tied up the pontoons with a rope. The passengers got out of the plane, and Tessa picked up her backpack. Lynn Prett talked with the American couple. Tessa walked to the main entrance, which was flanked by a monumental wooden sculpture. A grizzly, not realistically done but depicted as the Spirit Bear of Sitklat’l mythology.
At the entrance she asked about Noreen Chelin. “She’s still out there. She’ll be here in ten minutes,” the receptionist said, who appeared to be sixteen years old. Tessa went into the almost empty bar, bought a decaf coffee and a muffin, and sat down at one of the large windows. She would have liked to check her cell phone to see if Ron Halprin had answered, but there was no reception for guests.
She saw a boat arrive, and a group of tourists got out. Two guides from the lodge with orange-colored wind breakers took care of them. When they came nearer, Tessa recognized Noreen. Then her sight was blocked by a tall guy who had appeared out of nowhere. He wore a baseball cap and didn’t let Noreen go past him. Both of them seemed to be involved in a conversation. Tessa could see the man gesticulating. The tourists caught up with Noreen, and the man had to make way for them on the pier. He turned his head briefly in Tessa’s direction and she had to catch her breath.
It was Telford Reed.
26
What was Reed doing here? Was he trying to convince some Sitklat’l that they should buy the outfitter license?
Tessa had the impression that Noreen didn’t want to listen to him. She joined her group and left Telford standing on the pier. He followed Noreen and the tourists with his eyes, unsure what to do. Then he went to one of the boats and got on board.
Tessa withstood the temptation to go outside in order to find out about his unexpected appearance. She didn’t want to miss Noreen. The tourists streamed into the bar. Loud talking filled the room. Cameras were laid out on the tables and drinks were ordered. A few minutes later Noreen came in. She searched the room. Despite her three children she was still slim. During her university years, Tessa had perceived her as a rival. This black-haired woman with even facial proportions had something to offer that Tsaytis didn’t find in Tessa. Something she couldn’t possibly give him. Tessa could never figure out what Noreen thought about her, the white doctor’s daughter who once had had an undefined relationship with Tsaytis.
She got up and waved. Noreen came over to her. She walked with purpose but there was nothing hectic about it. As if she knew that she would always reach her goal with patience faster. Time had a different meaning for the Sitklat’l. This was something Tessa had experienced many times. She expected punctuality and speed. But during the exhausting land claims hearings with the government, she learned patience from the Sitklat’l. They were also going through a period of development. They had begun moving around confidently in the business world. Noreen Chelin was one of them. As the manager of a very well-known lodge, she had had to learn how to pay attention to the wishes of her guests, who traveled there from all over the world. Maybe that was the reason why she greeted Tessa with a handshake rather than a hug.
“It is all so terrible,” she said. “We simply can’t comprehend what happened.”
She spoke with the typical accent of the Sitklat’l, a nasal influence that softened the consonants and rounded the tones. She sounds like Tsaytis, Tessa thought.
“Shall we stay in the bar?” She pointed at Tessa’s table. “We’ll be less disturbed here than at the office.”
Tessa had nothing against that. The tourists were out of hearing range and busy among themselves.
“Was that Telford Reed?” she asked.
Noreen wrinkled her brow and looked out the window at the pier. “Yes, I didn’t count on him showing up,” she answered slowly. “Unfortunately I don’t have a
ny time for him. I’m also supposed to be leading some extra tours because Hank isn’t here.”
Tessa didn’t dare ask what Telford Reed might have wanted at the lodge. Instead she jumped right in. “Did Tsaytis tell you what he saw at the farm?”
Noreen waited before she answered. “He only told me that children lay dead in the house and Hank outside in the meadow. The dogs were locked in the storeroom and were going crazy when he was there.”
Tessa heard Harrison Miller’s voice in her ear. The dogs know who the murderer is.
“They are only in the storeroom when people visit who don’t like the dogs or are afraid of them,” she replied. “Who was there with Tsaytis? I know that somebody was there with him.”
“The police don’t want to say.”
Tessa didn’t give up. “Do you have a suspicion about who was there?”
Noreen didn’t say anything.
That’s an answer, too, she thought. She wants to protect someone. Tessa was too smart to keep pressing. “What is it you want to tell me about Fran?”
Noreen let her eyes sweep around the room. The guests were showing each other their grizzly pictures. “A month ago we had an open house here. For the people from Whatou Lake and the families of our workers, but also for our people from Telt-shaa. We flew in our elders and the students in our cultural program. Fran and her children were also here.”
Noreen spoke cautiously without stopping. “Fran came to me and took me aside. She wanted to talk to me alone. I only had a few minutes to spare from everything that I had to do on that day. I wanted to listen to her because Hank sometimes seemed gloomy to me. We went into one of the guest rooms, and she told me that she wanted to move away with Hank and the children. She had to move away for her own protection, she said. I didn’t understand why she was so scared. She didn’t tell me, either. To be honest I didn’t want to lose Hank because he’s a very good tour guide. I answered: Hank has a good job and you all have more money. And you have your family, your parents. Fran didn’t take my arguments well.”
MURDEROUS MORNING: A heart-stopping crime novel with a stunning end. Page 16