“She must have been quite a girl.”
“She was, and she’ll be missed.”
“Haven’t they been dealing with the edge of Hurricane Noel? If Professor Steele sent them out on the lake in that weather, he should be held accountable. Too bad he can’t be charged with manslaughter or contributing to the deaths, but if I find out he had a hand in this, I’ll definitely consider depraved indifference—negligence at the very least.”
She might find the man hotter than hell, but if those kids were dead because of him, he’d bloody well pay the price. Her libido be damned.
She set the folder on the edge of the desk.
“You said the bodies are in Belleville?”
“Yes, I had them transferred to Belleville General—it’s a larger facility with better equipment and more staff. I’ve seconded a diener for you. I know you like to work with the same forensic lab technologist for the duration of a case. I don’t want someone without forensic experience touching those bodies. I know you’ll want to do your own autopsy. Don’t let the locals rush you. If you decide it was an unfortunate accident, you can leave it in their hands and come back. They can handle the inquest. If you decide it’s suspicious, then do your job. The M.E. didn’t sound too happy about the two extra bodies in his freezer. He claimed he didn’t have the space. I told him to make room.”
Michelle stared at her boss and cringed.
“Damn it, Colin, you didn’t pull rank, did you? It only makes it harder when I have to go up against irate locals. ”
It was always problematic when the locals had their backs up like hissing cats. Colin might be the best coroner in the province, but he was a dismal diplomat, and with a government politician involved, she’d have to dot all her “i’s” and cross her “t’s”.
“I did what I had to do. I spoke to Peter Slaney, the G.P. who called us in. The water’s just above freezing. Regardless of how they got into the lake, at that temperature they wouldn’t have lasted fifteen minutes. I want to know what happened, and I want to know it yesterday.”
“Other than your personal connection to the case, is there anything else I need to know?”
“Apparently there’s some controversy going on about the lake itself. The local Mohawk tribe claims the water is sacred. Their shaman swears it is the resting place of the tribe’s spirit guides. Because of the bodies, they’ll have to do a purification ceremony, but they have to wait for your permission. Once you gather all the evidence you need, you can give them the green light. The mayor tried to have the hydrology project itself stopped, but it’s provincial land, and the University of Toronto’s science department commands a lot of respect. Mayor Ron, as he likes to be called, feels solving the puzzle of the source of the lake’s water will be bad for tourism.”
Damn, this case was getting worse by the minute. Two men who pushed her sexual buttons, and now this. The last thing she wanted to do was get embroiled in anything to do with the Mohawk people and their beliefs.
Five years ago, her parents had been killed in a senseless motor vehicle accident, and she’d discovered they hadn’t been her biological parents. They’d adopted her shortly after her birth. She’d been raised white, but she wasn’t. She was Mohawk, and had been given away by her mother’s people. She felt betrayed. It had been the first time she’d felt out of sync with the world.
She knew nothing about Mohawk culture. Her parents had known her background, had apparently even kept in touch with an aunt, and yet they’d never told her the truth. Why? Just after the accident, she’d received a package and a letter from a woman who’d claimed to be her mother’s sister. Michelle, curious to know about her past had read the letter, but she’d tossed the box, unopened, into the guestroom closet. Her aunt had written a couple of times asking her to come and see her, but Michelle had always had a reason to put off a visit.
The last message she’d received had been a phone call from a tribal chieftain who’d informed her of her aunt’s death. She’d been suffering from lung cancer, but she’d never mentioned it. More from guilt than grief, Michelle had attended the funeral. All anyone had seen was a white girl who didn’t belong. She’d gone looking for answers, but what she’d discovered had only left her more confused. Her mother had died giving her life, which had answered one of her questions and eased some of her pain, but her father had known about her and had chosen not to keep her. He’d died only months before her adoptive parents.
Michelle refused to accept or acknowledge her Mohawk heritage. If they hadn’t wanted her then, why should she want them now? She was Michelle Thomas, the daughter of Abigail and Dennis Thomas, and that was all there was to it. She might have been born Akuti Water, but that wasn’t a name she’d ever use. She forced her thoughts back to listen to what Colin was saying.
“The local authorities want to make this go away quickly. Drownings at a popular resort, which uses the lake’s mystery to generate tourist interest, are bad for business. They want to lay the blame on the storm.”
The door opened admitting Sheila Evans, Dr. Sander’s personal assistant. The woman in her late forties was efficient to a fault. Eagle-eyed, always aware of everything going on in the office, she kept everyone on their toes.
“Here’s that stuff you wanted. I’ve contacted the O.P.P., but there’s no word on those photographs yet. They seem to have two speeds down there—slow and stopped.” She handed him a blue folder, and then turned to Michelle.
“Nice to see you again. Great job on your last case.”
“Thanks, Sheila.” Michelle smiled.
Colin placed the folder on the desk in front of him and watched his secretary leave the office and close the door.
“I should have said so earlier. Sheila’s right. The work you did in Thunder Bay was amazing. You should be proud that couple isn’t going to get away with it. It could have been the perfect murder. The police chief himself called to comment on it. He’s impressed. He says if you ever get tired of working for me, he’ll give you a job.”
Colin ran his hand through his steel-gray hair and sighed. Michelle saw the frustration on his face. Death was never easy. She reached across the desk to touch his hand and offer comfort.
“I’ll do whatever I can to get to the bottom of this as quickly as I can. Where will I be staying?”
“We’ve made arrangements for you to stay at the Lake of the Mountain Resort. It’s where the bodies were found. Do you want a cup?”
He stood and walked over to the coffee pot he always had on in his office. God alone knew how long that sludge had been there.
“No thanks. I’m trying to cut back on my caffeine intake.”
“I probably should, too.” He filled his cup, returned to his desk, and picked up the folder Sheila had given him.
“Your contact in Picton will be Mayor Ron Davies. I sent you his profile. Policing is done by the Ontario Provincial Police, but Davies seems to have his fingers in a lot of pies. He’s a bigwig in the area—a winery owner—and they’re getting ready for the fall wine festival. Bad publicity could cost them thousands of dollars. He wasn’t too pleased when I spoke to him earlier. Don’t let him get to you. He sounds like a bully. Bust his balls if you have to, but don’t let him force your hand. He wants this cleared up as soon as possible. Just remember, you’re in charge, not the high and mighty Mayor Ron.”
She nodded. “No one bosses me around.” And I doubt a man I’m attracted to would be any different.
“I assume you’ll want to interview Doctor Steele too. They were his students. He may be able to shed some light on why they were out there. I doubt he’ll admit he sent them out there if he did. The man has a sterling reputation and seems to have done well for himself in a very short period of time. He must have friends in high places—certainly those bankrolling this research won’t be happy if they can’t follow through. The doctor has a lot to lose if this project fails. Some of these guys will do anything to advance the cause of science.”
Colin pu
lled a sheet of paper out of the file Sheila had given him and held it out to her.
“You should talk to Joseph Smoke too. Liam recommended him. He’s an elder on the Tyendinaga Mohawk Reserve on the mainland.”
Michelle reached for the report and stared at the photograph of the elderly Mohawk dressed in a traditional ribbon shirt and eagle feather headdress. He looked as if he’d stepped off the page of a history book.
“Why do you want me to talk to Smoke? How is he involved in this?”
“Directly, he isn’t, but the Mohawk and the local authorities have been at odds over the area for years. The tribe claims ownership of the lake and the land surrounding it. He’s the one you have to see to allow that purification ceremony I mentioned earlier. He can tell you all about the lake’s legends too. I spoke to him this morning at Liam’s request. If these were suspicious deaths, somebody could be trying to use the legends to cover up a murder. The Mohawk don’t want their ancestral beliefs to be unduly exploited. It was fine when they managed to pass a by-law making it illegal to use powerboats on the lake, but this is different. I don’t expect you’ll get to the bodies until Monday, but I’ll clear the way at the hospital for you. I’m not the expert, you are, but something stinks, and I don’t mean decomp. Watch your back.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
Michelle left Colin’s office and returned to her own. She pulled her purse out of her desk drawer and grabbed the paperwork she’d need for the job. She looked at her watch—three o’clock. She’d go home, get unpacked, and take a bath before she met Tasha.
Chapter Three
Tony, eyes closed to avoid the bright, white, fluorescent glare of the lights, waited on the uncomfortable wooden church pew outside the mayor’s office. He wondered if this form of torture was intentional or accidental. His headache had eased thanks to the third dose of analgesics. The door opened. He opened his eyes alert once more. A heavy-set, middle-aged dragon, whose nametag read Mildred Stanton, walked over to him.
“His Worship will see you now.” There wasn’t a hint of warmth in her voice.
Tony followed dragon lady down to the mayor’s office. She knocked on the door and opened it.
“Professor Steele is here, your honor.”
“Thank you, Mildred.” The petty dictator didn’t look up, but continued to shuffle papers on his desk as if he were looking for something in particular.
“You can leave now. I won’t need you any more today. As soon as this interview is over, I have to go to the winery for a few hours. Put the answering machine on, and we’ll deal with anything that comes up tomorrow. The pathologist from Toronto will be here late in the morning.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She closed the door behind her.
Tony stood impatiently waiting for the mayor to acknowledge him. Stress always made his headache worse.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, Dr. Steele, I won’t keep you long. There were some urgent matters I had to settle.” The mayor didn’t sound sorry one bit, in fact, he sounded smug.
Ron Davies looked up and removed his reading glasses. Something about him left a bad taste in Tony’s mouth. They’d met a couple of times in passing, but the man gave him the same feeling he got when confronted by a snake. He hated snakes.
The mayor, in his mid-forties, was young for the job, but as owner of one of the more successful wineries on the island, he commanded a lot of respect. He was part Mohawk and had recently cropped his hair so short it looked like moss growing on his head. Unlike Tony’s overly-casual attire, the mayor wore a navy suit, white shirt, navy and silver striped tie, and his chain of office. He wore a Rolex, not a knock-off, on his left wrist and the gold signet ring on his finger held the largest Ray Star garnet he’d ever seen. The man took his responsibilities seriously, but there was something about him Tony didn’t like.
Normally, he got along well with others. He ran cross-country or skate-skied depending on the weather, but in truth, he had no life beyond his lab and liked it that way. He enjoyed the company of women, dated occasionally, but no one had ever appealed to him—well, the mysterious woman did, but he couldn’t count a dream sex life as real. There was something about the mayor…It had to be the eyes—cold dark eyes that never looked into his when he spoke to him. He didn’t trust a man who wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
Coming to Prince Edward County to study the water in the Lake of the Mountain had been Tony’s dream, and when his grant proposal had been accepted last year, he’d been thrilled, but the mayor had blocked him every step of the way. Why? Proving an unlimited aquifer ran under the Canadian Shield would be a great accomplishment, and it would bring scientists here from around the world. Their money was as good as anyone else’s. It was unlikely he’d finish the project now. He’d never expected his dream to end in tragedy.
The mayor stood and crossed the floor. He didn’t offer his hand, but stopped a few feet in front of him—too close as far as Tony was concerned. He didn’t like people invading his space. His head had begun to throb again, and he’d already taken more medication than he should have.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news. They won’t be able to release the bodies to the parents as soon as we’d hoped. Dr. Slaney, the local G.P. you met this morning, is filling in for our medical examiner and didn’t run things through me. Unfortunately, he reported to the Provincial Coroner’s Office, and they’ve latched onto the case. The bodies have been transported to Belleville pending the arrival of a forensic pathologist from Toronto. I don’t know when he’ll release the bodies. I trust you’ll inform the parents. That’ll be all.”
Tony saw red. He was being dismissed? Who the hell does this guy think he is?
“What the hell do you mean he won’t release the bodies? You said this morning the police were calling it an accidental drowning. I have grieving parents on their way. They’re going to want to know what’s going on.”
The mayor pivoted and stood even closer. Tony smelled the coffee and stale cigarette smoke on the man’s breath.
“Then maybe you should ask them. I understand one of the family members caused this delay. It’s out of my hands.”
Tony saw the muscle jump in the mayor’s jaw. The man wasn’t too happy with the situation either.
“The Provincial Coroner’s Office is pulling the strings now, and you can blame the Honorable Liam Moorcroft. Apparently, the Minister of Agriculture doesn’t believe his niece’s death is as cut and dried as an accidental drowning. He’s using his influence to get what he wants, not necessarily what’s best for everyone. He was quite vocal about it this morning after he was informed of her death. He’s demanding answers, and I’d look for a good lawyer if I were you, professor. The family is going to want to blame someone, and you’re the number one candidate in my book. As you know, the lake is part of the Lake of the Mountain Provincial Park. The section where the bodies were found was just on the edge of government land. It could have gone either way, but Moorcroft pulled strings, and the province has official jurisdiction. How do you think that young man’s family is going to feel knowing their son will be subjected to an unnecessary autopsy? Maybe you can talk to the man, make him see the truth, and call off this witch hunt. It was a tragic accident. Let the dead rest in peace.”
“It would be irresponsible to dismiss things too easily.” Tony stared at the mayor whose face reddened at his words.
Ron stepped away. Why was he so belligerent? If Moorcroft wanted an autopsy to prove how his niece had died, the mayor should welcome it. Two kids had drowned on his watch. He should want to know the truth too and set the record straight. Tony wasn’t a medical doctor, but he knew no one accepted drowning alone as a cause of death.
Ron paced, his fury and agitation evident in the way he held himself. His shoulders were stiff, his back ramrod straight. Tony didn’t understand the antagonism the mayor directed at him personally. They’d never cared for one another, but today’s animosity seemed extreme.
Is that why he’s so annoyed? Because some pencil-pusher in Toronto doesn’t think his local team is up to the task? Great. Just what I need—getting caught in a bureaucratic pissing contest.
The mayor stopped pacing and turned to face him. The man’s face was an outraged mask.
“I blame you for this. Bad publicity is the last thing we need. What do you think will happen to our wine industry if people think we’re using poisonous water?”
Tony was stunned.
Son of a bitch! He doesn’t give a damn about the kids; he’s worried about his almighty profit margin! Another thought struck him. How does he know about the toxins?
“You looked surprised. Don’t be.” Ron answered as if he’d read Tony’s mind. “A good mayor knows what’s going on in his constituency. I heard all about your cock and bull research evidence. One of my friends was having lunch at the inn yesterday. Apparently, your students claim to have found poison in the lake, some kind of ammonia and sodium something or other. I’m not a fool. Sodium is salt. One of the cottagers probably flushed their hot tub in the lake near where your students took samples. Some of them use peroxide instead of chlorine. It’s easier on the skin. Maybe they use salt and bleach too. I suppose you’ve convinced the family we have a murderer in our midst, one using salt and bleach to poison the lake and kill those kids. Who’s being irresponsible now?”
Tony’s blood boiled. The man was not only a fool, he was a first-class idiot.
Echoes of the Past Page 4