by Amber Boffin
“Really, Adam, I can ask the same about you,” Brigit said wryly.
Adam opened his arms wide. “That’s me, you take it or leave it.” He poured some red wine into the glasses. “You don’t need to go to Antarctica to impress me, you know that?”
Brigit’s face grew tense. Maggie stood up to help everyone with her gratin. Nothing like a good dish to ease the atmosphere and change people’s focus back to their basic instincts. The idea of bringing amateur wildlife photographers into the wild forest of northern Canada to view bears, wolves, and moose appealed tremendously to Maggie. She could share her wildlife photography passion and be paid for it, which so far had been a tiny fraction of her business.
The icing on the cake would be the ability to combine it with her other interest, flying… She only had a few more cross-country solo hours to complete her private pilot license. From then on, she could upgrade it so that she could fly professionally. It would complement her photography business well.
Cutlery sounds and a few grunts broke the silence. It was a testament that her dish was a success. Maggie smiled at the three heads, eyes down on their plates. “Barrie, would you be interested in joining us on an adventure?”
“Well, it depends…but go on,” replied Barrie.
“I was thinking about Adam and Brigit’s idea of setting up a Canadian wilderness safari business. We have the guide, Adam, to find the wolves, an expert in their body language. We have our doc and expedition leader. I can lead the photo tutorials.” She crossed her fingers. “And if I get my pilot’s license, I could fly gear or even people to the remote locations. I would need a mechanic for the plane, though.”
Barrie took a sip of the wine. “Good idea, but not for me. I can take care of your plane in Foxton, but you won’t get me out there to freeze my toes off trying to track a moose…or wolf. Give me a snowmobile—”
Adam shook his head. “I wasn’t really thinking of noisy snowmobiles, more snowshoes…walking, you know, Barrie?” He mimicked the walking motion with two fingers.
Maggie smiled. Barrie never walked; he always took some sort of vehicle to move around. Perhaps it was a little premature to ask him; he was more the type of person to get on board once everything was set up, if it suited him. He had an inordinate amount of energy for renovating vintage cars, especially if they were his own, but he had needed a lot of pushing to repair Maggie’s plane, in spite of being paid for it.
“For the moment, I’m only throwing ideas around. There are so many what-ifs here.” Maggie wanted to do some due diligence on the topic to see who was already out there and what it would really entail. She had a romantic idea of the concept; it appealed in more than one way, but putting such ideas into practice was another matter.
She had found that the hard way with her photography business. It had taken longer than she had imagined to pick up. She had had to change her focus from weddings and wildlife photography to pet portraits and now owner and pet portraits. The thought of the dogs she had captured on camera brought her to the strange visit from the logger, Stuart. “I might be changing the topic a little, but I’d like your views on a visit I had from a logger.”
“Has it got something to do with the illegal logging site we saw?” Adam asked.
“It might have. I’m also confused and need both your help as to who all these people are and how they relate to each other. I think that might be a reason why I don’t understand his visit.”
Maggie looked at Barrie and at Adam, specifically. Adam fiddled with his native necklace as he listened to her attentively.
“We saw two loggers on a quad at the cabin. One of them had a blond mullet and a build I’ve rarely seen, a triangle of a torso, only muscle. You told me you knew him, Barrie.”
“You can say that. I call him Chainsaw. That’s Andy Smith. Kate was cheating on me with him. So, I really know who you mean…” Barrie sighed.
“Right. Do you think he would be capable of running a side operation of illegal logging? The reason I’m asking is that Stuart Harris, who visited me, the operations manager, I understand, seems suspicious of two guys, and I think he was referring to this Andy Smith and perhaps the other guy who was driving the quad.”
“James most likely, from your description earlier. Now he is a piece of work, I can imagine him for sure.” Barrie pushed his empty plate away from him.
“Hang on, now I’m confused. What did this Stuart tell you?” asked Adam.
Maggie explained her encounter with him at her workshop and the surprise of Tiger not being his dog. Adam stood up from the table and walked out of the room, returning with a paper. He narrowed his eyes as if he needed reading glasses.
“I thought so. I recognize his name. I’ve been doing some research on this logging operation. He was appointed as operations manager only a few months ago. The previous manager quit because of issues with anti-logging activists that he was unable to resolve.”
“What kind of issues? Could it be that Ben Fearon was after them because they were doing the illegal logging, and he quit to avoid getting caught for it?”
“Perhaps, although the clear-cut we saw was very recent,” Adam replied.
“What if Stuart was placed there undercover to investigate it? It would explain him telling me he was focusing on two of his men. It also makes sense for him to warn me to be careful, to protect me from them.” Maggie paused. “Does it?”
Barrie shook his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Why did he borrow a dog to tell you that? I say he wanted something else. Maybe I’m too suspicious, because of Kate.”
“He has a point. What I don’t get is Kate. One moment she dates a logger, the next she goes for the activist.” Adam turned to Brigit. “Could she have a change of heart like that overnight?”
Brigit shrugged. “Maybe she doesn’t care about the trees but does about the men. Ben Fearon was charismatic. I’ve seen him talk.”
Maggie looked into Brigit’s close-set eyes. She couldn’t decide whether they were dark blue. They had a purple hue, depending on how big her pupil was. They always had a sparkle, like two portals into her brain, with ongoing incessant activity. Maggie never managed to have an inkling of what she might say next. She was unpredictable, unlike Sergeant Humphries. Maggie got carried away by her thoughts before falling back on her burning question.
“How come you have met both Kate and Ben Fearon, while you happened to also be the doctor on call at the time of his death? A little more than a coincidence, it seems to me…”
“Maggie, what are you insinuating?” Adam asked dryly. “She said Kate visited her, just like you had a visit from Stuart, which, by the way, doesn’t make any sense to me.”
Brigit put her hands out. “Stop, you two. Maggie’s right. It does sound weird. I grant her that. The reason I saw Ben Fearon but never talked to him is straightforward. It was at a talk about global warming, which will be a subject of a research project in Antarctica. He was raising the issue of excessive logging. And as for Kate, I only met her that one time.”
Maggie wanted to believe her. Her gut was telling her she was telling the truth, but her devil of a heart was deliberately hindering her mind. She had the urge to be antagonistic—it was her jealousy speaking again. How annoying. It clouded her reasoning when she thought she might be making progress on the mysterious death.
She took a large gulp of sparkling water that tickled the tip of her nose, a reaction she sometimes had to it. “Sorry, I’m not accusing anyone. It seems that there’re at least three people who might have motives to get rid of Ben Fearon. Andy, the muscly one, James, the bushy one, and Kate…if she was dating both Ben and Andy, while on Andy’s side. Or if what she told you, Barrie, is correct—Ben wasn’t treating her well and it got out of hand…”
“What about Ted?” Brigit asked.
“He disappeared and left us a riddle. I think he knows who killed Ben Fearon, and I fear he might have paid with his life for it.” Adam replied, staring at the swirl
ing wine in his glass.
“Who’s this Ted? I’m lost.” Barrie stood up from the table and examined the wine bottle. “I’m switching to beer, not that your wine wasn’t good, Adam, but I don’t get hangovers from beer the same way.”
Everyone declined, aside from Brigit, who seemed to share his liking for beer. No one bothered answering Barrie’s initial question, not that he seemed very interested, since he had disappeared into the kitchen in no time.
“You really haven’t got any news from Ted?” Maggie asked, finding it hard to imagine he could disappear without a trace.
Adam shook his head. “The police are searching for him. They want to question him. He is now on their suspect list.”
“So it really was a murder then…how could they tell Ben didn’t eat the mushrooms or plants by mistake?” Maggie asked.
“Ben Fearon did ingest toxic mushrooms. But there’s more to it. I guess I can tell you if you keep it to yourselves? As far as I’m aware, it hasn’t been disclosed officially yet.”
They all nodded.
“Raj told me early evening that they received the toxicology data he’d asked for. You were right, Maggie, to have mentioned the smoke, because it turns out he died of CO poisoning. The other surprising element was that the forensic team believes the door was shut from the outside. They’re investigating his death as a murder now.”
“That doesn’t make sense, we saw the door open…” Maggie’s jaw dropped. “Unless, no, I can’t believe it. I still have the pictures I took. They were backed up on my camera. I thought I’d caught the ghost next to the cabin on one of them. I now think it could’ve been Ted’s silhouette with the bearskin.”
“I’d like to see that picture,” replied Adam.
“I don’t have it with me, but I’ll send it to you.” She paused to think. “Ted could’ve opened the door to cover up his traces. Wasn’t he in charge of the stove?”
Silence fell on the trio as Barrie walked back with two beers. “I leave for a minute, and it’s as if someone has just died. Why so glum? Is it Kate again?” They shook their heads. “I thought tonight was meant to cheer me up, that’s what you said, Adam. This isn’t working.”
Brigit took a beer from Barrie and toasted to him. “Nothing we can solve here and now. Only more questions, as far as I can see. Tell me more about how you managed to get hold of that 1930s Cadillac.”
Barrie groomed his neatly trimmed beard. The hairs were combed down into a perfect triangle. He must be using a special comb and maybe gel to sculpt it like that. It was a change from his usual messy look.
Barrie grinned broadly and began explaining his story of the old lady who had never been to her husband’s shed. It had been off limits for her until he passed away. She had been very disappointed after discovering wreckages of cars, some covered by mouse-eaten tarps. Uninterested in its contents, she had called Barrie to take the lot, keep what he wanted, and sell the rest as scrap metal.
It was the third time Maggie and Adam had heard the story. They looked at each other and rose to clear the table, leaving the beer-loving pair to chatter away. Maggie went outside to check on her dogs. They came running to her and jumped into a pile of autumn leaves, using it as a trampoline. Their ears flapped up and down as their heads popped out of the heap.
Maggie smiled as she watched them, her mind wandering. Why had Brigit changed the topic? It was considerate of her. Poor Barrie must have had enough of hearing about Kate and all her boyfriends… It didn’t look good for Ted, but what a perfect scapegoat he was…if he didn’t do it. If only she could speak to the loggers again, or meet Kate.
Chapter Eighteen
Maggie woke up the next morning and sat up in bed. That was it. She had figured out why Stuart came to her home. He wanted her pictures! She let herself fall back onto her pillow.
How did he know she had taken pictures of the log cabin? Someone must have told him. Why would he want those pictures? It was more likely he was after any picture she might have taken of the logged forest or anything related to it.
She slipped out of bed and smiled; he wouldn’t have gotten those. They were taken with her phone, since Raj had taken her big camera away at the time. Beans and Carrot jumped on her bed, eager to be let out.
As she prepared breakfast, her realization gave her an idea: she could take new pictures of the logging site. The weather was good, and she had confirmed her solo cross-country flying appointment for this morning. She only had two more hours left to do before she could get her private pilot license.
She filled her bird feeders to the brim, eager to help the juncos, grackles, and blackbirds with their journey to their wintering grounds. Something moved to her right along her shed. It wasn’t very big and was hidden from her sight by a birch tree trunk. She stepped aside quietly.
It was the resident groundhog, sitting upright like a dog, waiting for a treat to be placed on her diamond-shaped nose. She looked like she was zipped up in a red fur coat, a line of blond hair running straight down her belly. Only after viewing a close-up picture of her paws did Maggie grasp why she could dig such deep burrows. If she were the size of a bear, her claws would be like a Kodiak—no messing around with her.
Maggie cherished those encounters, especially when the wild animal went about its business feeling safe in her presence. Now that she had the dogs, she saw the groundhog less often. No surprise there—Beans had tried to fit down its burrow. Luckily, the terrier was just too big for it.
It was time for her to jump into her old pickup truck and head to the airfield. She flicked through the songs playing, but none matched the scenery. She was driving through a bouquet of flowers, with the entire yellow-to-red spectrum of colors and the right amount of greenery to avoid crowding out the flowers.
The harmony of colors was broken by something turquoise. As she approached, she saw a woman hitchhiking. Maggie had seen this color before. She pulled over, but the woman walked away, ignoring her.
Maggie was sure she had her arm out a moment ago. The sight of her backpack made Maggie drive slowly alongside her. It could only be Kate, and she must have recognized her car. Kate waved to Maggie to move on. Maggie pulled up a few feet in front of her.
“Thanks, but I don’t need a lift. I’m hiking,” Kate said, her forehead and eyes expressionless, betraying her fake smile.
Maggie didn’t believe her for one second. This wasn’t a place to hike—this was the road out of Foxton to the north. In fact, this was the same direction as the logging camp. Maggie looked at the clock; she would be early for her appointment, as usual.
“I’m heading north. I need to turn left five miles before the road goes to the logging camp,” Maggie lied, having calculated she had enough time for a detour that would bring her back to the airfield from the west. “There’s nothing much else up that way.”
Kate stopped walking, as if she were hesitating. Had she guessed correctly? Maggie’s eyes were attracted to a striped scarf poking out from Kate’s coat at the level of a missing button.
Kate turned to face her. “I’ll be blunt. I don’t want a ride from you. You look smart enough to know why. Now would you let me get on with my journey?”
Maggie shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know why.”
“I know you found my boyfriend’s body.”
That is unwise. “Oh, you’re Kate. I hadn’t realized. I’m really sorry for you. It must be such an ordeal.”
“Come on, don’t give me that. I saw you from the window. You know very well who I am. Barrie would have made sure of that,” Kate said dryly.
“All right, but it doesn’t mean I can’t offer you a lift, since you were sticking out your thumb earlier… You won’t find many cars on this road at this time of day.”
Kate looked up and down the road. “I guess I could do with a ride.”
Maggie opened the door for her and pulled her backpack onto the middle seat, which she flipped up. An awkward silence fell in the cabin.
Thinking s
he had nothing to lose, Maggie asked, “I was impressed by Ben Fearon’s last talk on deforestation. We need daring people like him to fight for nature.”
Kate sighed. “He had his ways…not that I approved of all of them.”
“I can understand. I prefer peaceful approaches rather than any use of violence.”
“I agree, and not all loggers are bad. It can be done in a sustainable way…but Ben wouldn’t accept that.” Kate rubbed her eyes. “He thought he knew best…always. In the end it killed him.”
Maggie was careful not to mention any CO poisoning, since Adam had told them in confidence. It left the cause of poisoning open to interpretation; that way she might gain new insights into Kate’s role in the death. Could Kate have tried to poison him with the omelet, and failing that, have locked the door from the outside, leaving him in a smoky room? “Sorry to ask, but do you think he poisoned himself?”
“Well, of course he did. What else could have happened? He wasn’t careful enough with what he ate. I always told him off for it, and I was right. That’s even why he got angry with me on this stupid mushroom trip. He wanted to show off and ridicule that woman, what’s her name? Forgot, better that way. He was right there. She didn’t know anything.”
Tina and Ben Fearon had clashing personalities. Maggie would have thought Tina and Kate would have gotten along; she was wrong. No wonder; the fungi tour wasn’t a pleasant experience, but Tina knew her mushrooms as far as Maggie was concerned.
There were aspects of Tina’s character that Maggie didn’t like, her jealousy, for a start, and her sharp tongue…and jumping to conclusions, but on certain topics, she was very serious and always had been. Even at high school, Tina had been exceptional when it came to essays and the amount of background information she had researched to tell her story.
It was more likely that Kate pointed the finger at Tina to divert the blame away from herself. Or perhaps she was just very upset and felt the world was against her, which was understandable. Either way, Maggie sensed Kate was on edge.