Lake Effect

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Lake Effect Page 9

by K C Gillis


  Six roads went east from Copper Lake Road. Jordan took them in the order she came to them. The first one was long, continuing for many miles before connecting to a state road. It had a few old houses, with some that looked more recently built. There was one business site, some sort of antiques shop. Otherwise, a whole lot of nothing. As she turned back to Copper Lake Road, she realized she saw no evidence at any of the houses that the owners used the lake. No speedboats, no canoes or kayaks, no wakeboards or other water-sports equipment. She would have expected to see something that said the residents enjoyed the lake.

  Jordan repeated the exercise for each of the next five eastbound roads with similar observations. There was nothing that made her curious, and nothing that looked like it was contributing to something that could kill hundreds of fish in a lake. She felt like she was wasting her time, but she had to be thorough. Most investigative work was tedious and unproductive, but it was necessary to make sure that when a crucial piece of information was available, the reporter was going to find it. Besides, she could think of worse tedium than driving through beautiful countryside.

  There were three westbound roads that ran from Copper Lake Road toward the lake. Jordan turned left on the first one. It was very short, maybe a quarter mile long. It ended at what appeared to be an abandoned boat repair shop. The site had a short path to the lake that had seen years of overgrowth. Some old boat hulls were visible, but the site looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. Nothing to worry about.

  Jordan felt despondent when she got to the last road, having seen nothing remotely suspicious. It surprised her to see that it was a dirt road. Where she grew up, if a road had houses it was paved. The road eased to the left, straightened, and then curved to the right, gradually approaching the lake. Along the road, she saw several “No Trespassing” signs on both sides of the road. Jordan thought it strange there were no homes on the road. Being so close to the lake, it seemed like a perfect location to build custom homes.

  Jordan was no geographical expert, but she thought that where Derek had taken her to see where he’d found the dead fish was close by. If she could walk out to the shore, she was sure she’d be able to see where she and Derek had gotten out of the boat. There was a small cul-de-sac, and Jordan stopped the car halfway around. The “No Trespassing” signs continued to line the section of land between the road and the lake.

  Initially, Jordan thought there was no lake access, but off the back of the cul-de-sac, slightly to the north, was a gated driveway. The gate wasn’t massive, just a steel bar that ran across a driveway that looked to be fifteen feet across. Despite the high level of overgrowth on the edges of the road, the driveway was relatively clear. It even looked like it had been used recently. The question was, for what? She couldn’t see a building or structure anywhere.

  Jordan got out of the car and looked down the driveway. She could definitely see the lake. Ignoring the warnings, she walked around the steel bar. As she suspected, the driveway reached the shore close to where she and Derek had been. Had there been some sort of boat launch, they might have noticed the driveway from the lake. But there was nothing. The driveway got close to the shore but stopped maybe thirty feet short of it.

  About to turn back, Jordan thought she heard a sound. It was faint but steady. She couldn’t place it at first, but after a moment, she realized it sounded like flowing water. She didn’t recall seeing any sort of stream. Not from the lake when she and Derek had come out by boat. And not when she’d walked toward the shore just now. As she listened, there was no doubt. There was water flowing nearby.

  Moving in the sound’s direction, it took less than five minutes to reach its source. Sure enough, a small stream bubbled over a rocky streambed toward the lake. The streambed wasn’t well defined, and the stream itself was narrow and shallow. It may have been intermittent, coming to life when fed by rain, as had happened in the last twelve hours.

  Jordan returned to her car and headed back out to Copper Lake Road. About halfway out, she noticed something she had missed on the way in. Another driveway. She must have been looking the other way, because this driveway was pretty obvious. She stopped at the driveway entrance. “No Trespassing” signs marked each side.

  Jordan got out of the car again and walked down the driveway, ignoring the signed warnings. In from the road about ten feet, a thick steel chain hung between two concrete posts on each side of the driveway. Not designed to completely prevent people from getting by, its three-foot height all but guaranteed vehicles couldn’t pass.

  As she peered down the driveway, which was heavily shrouded with trees, she saw something set back from the road. Jordan went past the chain to investigate the structure, which turned out to be a gate, about 150 feet down the driveway. It comprised one large black metal door on a mechanism that allowed it to slide laterally. It must have been at least twelve feet high. To each side was wire fencing, with what appeared to be barbed wire curled at the top.

  Jordan’s curiosity was piqued. No one built a gate like that without a good reason. She had to know what was on the property the gate was protecting. But the scale of the gate and fence was a powerful deterrent. She stood in place, debating what to do.

  I didn’t do all this exploring just to pack it in the first time I see something interesting.

  Jordan approached the large gate with slow, cautious steps. She felt stupid. There was no reason not to walk normally. There wasn’t a soul around.

  The gate was even more impressive up close. She had misjudged its height. It was at least fifteen feet high and had a smooth surface, making it impossible to scale. As she had guessed, it had a sliding door that would open to the left. Just to the right side of the gate, and built into the fence, was some sort of console. Jordan pulled the small latch on the bottom of the console and lifted a small door. It was a communication panel with a button, a rectangular sensor, and a small speaker. Likely an intercom and a badge scanner. There was also a keypad.

  She closed the panel door and looked along the fence in both directions. She really wanted to know what could justify such a secure fence out in the boonies. But she couldn’t see very far, or even easily walk along the fence, on account of thick fir trees and heavy undergrowth. This site was definitely designed to make prying difficult.

  Jordan was at a loss not being able to see inside and having no means to easily probe along the fence. The site could have nothing to do with the fish kill, but its hidden location and strong perimeter teased her. She wanted to know what was behind the gate. Even if it was useless for her. But she didn’t see a way in.

  Jordan turned to leave but stopped before returning to her car. There was one thing she could do. It would be quite direct.

  She could push the button.

  She returned to the gate and opened the door on the control panel. The single red button beside the speaker was right in front of her. All she had to do was press it. And then what? What would she say if someone answered?

  Before she could think of an answer to her question, she pressed the button. There was a short buzz, acknowledging her action.

  Jordan waited.

  Five seconds passed. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Nothing. A minute passed with no response. The adrenaline that had begun to build when Jordan had first pushed the button began to slowly subside. Either whoever was in there didn’t appreciate unannounced guests, or there was no one in there. She had no idea.

  Even though she couldn’t see much, Jordan took some pictures. Maybe Derek would know something about the place.

  In the absence of other options, she decided her tour was over. At least for the time being. Walking back to her car, Jordan’s thoughts returned to the small stream she had seen. Given its direction of flow, it had to pass through the property protected by the large fence. She hadn’t recalled seeing any sort of stream or river as she’d turned off Copper Lake Road. Maybe the little stream actually started from the mystery property?

  Drew MacGregor stared at
the TV screen. The one that captured the views from the nine security cameras around the perimeter, including the one in the main gate control panel. That particular view occupied the center square on a three-by-three array. MacGregor had no idea who the woman was who had come up to the gate and pressed the intercom button, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to answer it. In his short time at the site, there hadn’t been a single random visitor. Maybe others had noticed the gate before, but no one had ventured to look around. From the way she had probed around the gate, she probably hadn’t been able to see the cameras. At least that part of the design worked well. But having a visitor guaranteed one thing. He’d have to call the chief.

  15

  Derek had been working on the dock retrieval the entire morning. He was part of a group of six staff members who pulled the dock back into position to get it secured. Positioning and securing a dock was not normally a tough job, but to get one in place with boats in many of the slips made the job cumbersome. The docked boats were just in the way, but there was nowhere else to put them, short of hauling them out of the water. The crew reestablished key connections between the getaway dock and the main dock and then removed many of the attached boats to provide more room to maneuver. Moving these boats actually took more time than reattaching the getaway dock. With only a few connections remaining, Derek let the staff finish up.

  He headed up to the main building, the one with the showroom, pro shop, and offices, to give Mike an update. He checked his phone to see if his dad had called back but saw no missed calls or texts. Derek had called him as Mike had requested. He figured his dad could come over quickly since he was supposed to have been out on the lake looking for the mystery boat driver from the night before. But his dad said he wouldn’t be able to come over for at least a few hours. When Derek pressed him as to why, all the chief said was that he was dealing with police business. Derek hated that answer. He had been hearing that his entire life. It was such bullshit.

  As Derek got to the building entrance, his dad’s police Explorer pulled in.

  Derek walked over as his dad got out.

  “Must have been a busy morning,” Derek said.

  “Not really, but something came up I had to deal with. It took longer than I thought. What happened here? A dock got away?”

  “Yeah. The damnedest thing too. A guest called Mike early this morning and told him a section of dock was floating away. Only one line tied to a cement plug on the lake bottom kept it from taking off completely. So it was just floating, about twenty-five feet past the other docks, boats still attached.”

  “That’s a new one. But it doesn’t sound like a police matter. Why do you need me?”

  “Why? There’s no way that dock got away on its own. We anchored it to the main dock and secured lines to multiple anchor points. Someone did it on purpose.”

  “Do you have any evidence?”

  “Other than the dock floating away? No. It looks like someone just undid all the connections and lines.

  There’s no way they all came undone at the same time.”

  “You said one was still attached. How do you know one of your high school kids didn’t just screw up?”

  “Because we check every attachment. Our insurance policy requires verification that the docks are safe. They’re a huge liability for the marina.”

  Mike came out, probably because he heard the discussion. “Hey, Chief. I’m glad you came. Did Derek fill you in?”

  “He did. But I gotta tell you, I don’t think there’s much to investigate here. It seems like you had some poor dock installation. If I were you, I’d check all of your docks and make sure no other sections float away.”

  “That’s what you think? We’ve been installing these particular docks every year for the last fifteen years. There has never been a problem. Never. Not one. And now, not only do we have a problem, but a section of dock almost floats off. You can’t think this makes sense.”

  “Mike, I don’t give a shit what makes sense or not. Unless you can show me lines someone cut, hinges that were pried off, or anchors that were moved, there’s no evidence anyone did anything wrong.”

  Mike turned away and faced the lake. “Sometimes you’re unbelievable, Brian. This absolutely looks deliberate, but you won’t do a thing because you’re still pissed at me from something that happened in high school. Get over it already.”

  Derek backed up a couple of steps. He had never heard anyone talk to his father like that. Except for his mother. And he definitely had never heard Mike talk that way to anyone. It was uncharted territory.

  Chief Foster stepped toward Mike. “Don’t you fucking tell me to get over anything. I’m the police chief, and I say there’s no evidence of a crime here.” The chief leaned in close to Mike, so close Derek could barely hear him. “But if I investigated and found nothing but negligence by the marina, I’d feel obliged to report it to your insurance company. You know. For public safety.”

  Mike’s face went red. “Fine, Brian. Have it your way. If you’re not going to do anything helpful, get the hell out of here. You’re not a member.”

  “Careful, Mike. You may need me to save you one day.”

  “I won’t hold my breath.”

  Chief Foster turned and strode away, heading toward his Explorer.

  Mike turned to Derek. “You know, some days your dad really pisses me off. Don’t take it personally. It’s not a reflection of you.”

  “I know. He can piss off just about anyone.” Derek looked toward the docks. “Do we let this one go?”

  Mike adjusted his hat and turned to go back inside. “I guess so. But let’s be more vigilant for the next little while. Just in case there are any more of these accidents.”

  “You got it.”

  The chief sat in his Explorer and checked his personal phone for messages. It surprised him to see a text message from a contact referred to only as M but which the chief knew was MacGregor. Like he wanted to go back to that creepy site anytime soon. He put his phone away and was about to start the Explorer when Alice opened the passenger door and climbed in.

  “Alice, what the hell are you doing here? You know it’ll piss off Mike if he finds out, which will pass to Kasey, then to Derek, and finally to me. I don’t feel like getting a headache twice on account of one visit from you.”

  “Relax already, Brian. Mike and Derek went down to the docks, and Kasey is working the bar, so none of them will see us. You know, there used to be a time when you were glad to see me.”

  “When? In fucking high school? Those days are long gone, Alice.”

  “I suppose they are.” Alice sat still, looking out the windshield.

  “What do you want? I have things to do.”

  “Right. I was thinking about the two accidents. I can’t remember the last time we had anything worse than a poorly moored boat get away. In the last twenty-four hours, we’ve had two bizarre accidents. What do you think?”

  “Why don’t you ask Mike? He knows what I think.”

  “I want to hear it from you directly.”

  “And you think I’ll tell you the truth?”

  Alice looked squarely at the chief. “I do. You may hate me most of the time because of what I did, but I trust you.”

  The chief pushed back in his seat, relaxing the tension in his arms. “Fine. I’m investigating last night’s crash. I had the runaway boat brought to the municipal impound lot this morning, and my men are trying to figure out who owns it and where the driver went. Nothing yet. How’s that?”

  “That helps. How about the dock breaking away?”

  “As I told Mike, it seems more like your staff didn’t attach it properly, and it let go. It was just a coincidence that it happened right after the crash, though the impact may have sped things up a bit. If lines had been cut or if there were other signs of vandalism, I’d investigate. But there’s no sign of anyone breaking the law.” The chief looked at Alice. He had known her since they were kids. Her face told him she didn�
�t agree with his hypothesis. “Is there something you know that you’re not telling me?”

  “No, there’s not. But I don’t buy your coincidence explanation.”

  “Well, unless you have any information or evidence to the contrary, that’s the official police position on the matter. Anything else?”

  “I guess not. It just feels intentional.”

  The chief couldn’t tell her she was right.

  16

  For the second time in as many days, Chief Foster headed out to what he thought of as the “test site.” Not that he called it that to anyone else. But in his mind, that’s what it was. The chief didn’t know what was being tested or why, but he was certain the guys who secretly worked there were doing something the public shouldn’t know about. Whatever the purpose, it demanded they be damn near invisible. That didn’t matter to the chief. He knew exactly who was responsible for the test site and that, in the end, it existed to make money.

  Before this weekend, the chief had only been out here four other times in the nearly two years the site was operating. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to come again anytime soon. There was something about the place, maybe the layout, maybe the animals, that made it creepy. Not that the chief was afraid, but he sensed something off about the place and would just as soon avoid it. But when that numb-nut MacGregor called him, panicked and freaked out, he knew he’d have to come in person.

  Unlike the previous day’s visit, the entrance to the first building was open. The chief appreciated the effort but preferred to stay outside. Just in case they were testing something dangerous and/or illegal. As long as he didn’t know specifics, he felt he’d be safe from the law in case something went sideways.

 

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