Echoes of the Past (14 page)

Next door to the winery, he saw the sign
indicating Henderson’s Custom Slaughterhouse He’d heard Jim Henderson was a
partner in the winery. Apparently, it had been built on his land. The man cut
and wrapped the meat from domestic animals as well as wild game. There weren’t
too many places left like that. Most were afraid they’d fail government
inspections, but Jim’s place looked modern and well-maintained—like the winery.
A huge cornfield separated the winery from the slaughterhouse, and Tony noted
it was the only one he’d noticed not harvested for silage.

He kept driving. His stomach grumbled as he passed
the sign for the Explorer’s House Resort. He glanced at his watch. It was after
one. He pulled into the parking lot and entered the restaurant. Instead of the
formal dining room, he opted for a pub lunch in The Spanish Galleon, the
nautical-styled pub whose décor matched its name.

He sat at the bar, and raised his pint of beer to
his lips. He looked up briefly at the game on the television set, but memories
of Aaron resurfaced. The boy had played center for the university’s football
team last year. He’d torn up his knee pretty badly, and though the team doctor
had said he could play this year, Aaron had decided academics were safer.
Bad choice.
He should have played ball. He might have
limped
the rest of his life, but he’d be alive. Tony looked
away from the television and stared into his beer.

The file with the new results confirming much
higher concentrations of the deadly toxins in the water was in his briefcase,
safely locked in the SUV. He couldn’t understand why the mayor refused to
listen to him. The man behaved like an ostrich with its head in the sand—as if
what he couldn’t see didn’t exist.

Tony sighed and ran his hand through his neatly
trimmed hair. What he should be doing right now was shadowing the good mayor to
make sure he could get a word in edgewise with the coroner before Ron poisoned
the man’s mind against him. Surely a forensic pathologist would understand the
implications of the toxins they’d found? Every day those chemicals went
unheeded into the lake increased the odds someone would die. He’d heard of kids
dying because they’d eaten food kept in the same refrigerator as meth waste.

He sipped his beer. The antsy feeling he had since
last night’s conversation with Joseph wouldn’t go away. Tomorrow afternoon was
now. What was he waiting for?

The door to the restaurant opened, and Tony glanced
at the mirror above the bar to see who’d entered. The woman wore a dark green
jacket with a hood pulled up to shield her hair and part of her face, but the
man was unmistakable. Mayor Ron led his companion to a table in an alcove
created by lush plants.
Well, well. Look who’s here.

Tony
smiled smugly. Wasn’t it amazing the way things happened? He wanted to talk to
Ron again. Maybe outside his office, the man would be more approachable. He
wondered who the woman was.

She faced away from him, but Tony couldn’t take
his eyes off her. He watched her walk from the door to the table and knew her
jeans hugged her in all the right places. She removed the jacket and he stopped
breathing as he watched the heavy, dark brown, braid fall two-thirds the way
down her rust-colored back. Who was she? There was something strangely familiar
about the way she held herself that made his senses tingle.

She and the mayor seemed friendly and even though
Tony could only see the mayor in profile, he could tell the man was interested
in his companion—more than interested, he had the
hots
for her. A man could always tell when another man was staking a claim.

Chapter Seven

Despite the dismal weather outside, Sophie’s
Restaurant was an oasis of light and life, and enchanted Michelle. The room
housed a variety of tropical plants, giving the impression she’d walked into a
jungle. The green drapes covering two walls of the room were closed, and the
world outside disappeared behind them. A small but dramatic waterfall fell from
the top of a native stone wall into a small pond—no doubt a recycling fountain—but
the theatrical effect made her feel as if she’d stepped into another world. A
beautiful mural depicting an ancient Mayan temple covered the last wall.

She thought of Audra’s warning not to trust her
senses. This place was proof of that. Not only was it a trompe l’oeil, but the
scent and sounds befuddled the other senses as well. She shook her head.
Why don’t I just enjoy lunch and forget
about everything for a while?

“It’s incredible. I can’t imagine how the plants
thrive in here.” She reached out to touch the leaves of a magnificent
Schefflera
.

Ron
laughed. “Look up.” He pointed to the ceiling.

Instead of
the traditional ceiling she’d expected
,
the
restaurant’s roof was a large skylight.

“The
plants get tons of natural light, even on gloomy days like this. I’ll have to
bring you back on a clear day, especially in the summertime. It’s like sitting
outside without the bugs. You should see it on a moonlit night with the sky
awash in stars. It’s my favorite place to come in the winter when I need a
boost.”

“It’s
beautiful and unique. My friend Tasha would love this place. I’ll have to tell
her about it. I feel like Alice, and I’ve just stepped into another world.”

“The
owner’s father was an archeology professor at Queens. He dragged the family
along on some of his digs. When he retired, he invested in this place.
Unfortunately, he died a few years ago. Sophie and her husband run it now. I’ll
show you the bar another time. It’s decorated to look like the inside of a
Spanish ship—the conquistadors invading paradise.”

Michelle
shivered. Had some evil invaded this island? She was almost certain those
bodies would reveal information the mayor wouldn’t want to hear.

Ron ordered a bottle of chardonnay, her favorite
white wine. She opted for seafood tortellini while he ordered the grilled lamb.
When the food came, she was pleased to find real lobster and crab as well as
shrimp and scallops in the rich white sauce.

The chef himself came over to check to see if
everything was to their satisfaction. Ron introduced her, and the man sung
Ron’s praises.

“He’s the best mayor we’ve ever had. Are you
enjoying the wine? We serve Whippoorwill Winery wine here as our house
selection. Ron and Jim make some of the best wine on the island. We support the
local entrepreneurs, and they support us. Business has been better since he
took office—more tourists coming to check us out too.”

“Everything is fantastic. I’ve never tasted
anything better. And you’re right about the wine. It’s superb.”

Throughout the meal, a number of people stopped by
the table to say hello or discuss some aspect of the island’s municipal
business with Ron. Michelle was surprised and pleased. It was obvious he
commanded the respect and admiration of his constituents. When he wasn’t
speaking with one of his citizens, Ron was an attentive, knowledgeable dinner
companion, and she enjoyed their impromptu date, something she couldn’t remember
ever happening before. They were finishing a shared dessert, and the decadent,
gooey, chocolate creation served with blackberries had her taste buds moaning
with pleasure.

“This is so good. It probably has a thousand
calories in it. I’ll have to run and extra mile or two to get this off my
hips.”

Ron chuckled. “From where I sit, your hips look
just fine.”

The server came and cleared away the plate,
replacing it with a pot of tea and two cups. He served the steeped brew, and
Michelle sniffed appreciatively. She recognized the pungent scent of Earl Gray.
She took a sip and sat back. “This is wonderful. Thank you for bringing me
here.”

Ron smiled. “You know, I can pick you up in the
morning and take you over to my favorite running trail. Most people prefer to
run on hard surfaces, but I enjoy mixing up my run—some pavement, some
cross-country.”

“When I’m in Toronto, I run with a cross-country
club at the university, but it feels as if I haven’t had a good run in ages. I
was lucky to get in a few laps around the track at
Lakehead
in Thunder Bay. ”

“It’s a date then. I’ll pick you up at the resort
around ten, or is that too early? We can go to the winery for lunch. We offer a
nice all-you-can-eat brunch and wine tasting on Sundays. We usually have a good
crowd too. I’m hoping the recent bad publicity won’t affect our numbers. The
island’s cooking school students cater the meal. The food is excellent, and I
can show you my little bit of heaven. You can give my partner Jim and I your
opinion on our latest bottling—it’s a cabernet sauvignon. It’s done well in
competition. We didn’t oak it, so it’s a lighter red wine.”

“Ten will be fine. I’m usually starving after a
decent run, but promise you’ll let me go back to my room and clean up before we
do brunch. I’d hate to offend anyone.”

Ron laughed, and the sound warmed her.

“Of course, I’m generally a little ripe myself by
then. I’ll take you back to get cleaned up, go and do the same, and then we can
go to lunch smelling as fresh as daisies.”

“It should be fun. I’ll look forward to it. Lunch
was great. I probably won’t need supper, but unfortunately, I have work to do. I
suppose we should talk about the case. There are things I need to know, and I’m
sure you have questions for me.” Michelle sipped her tea and watched some of
the light go out of Ron’s eyes.

“You’re right. As much as I’d like it to be
otherwise, this isn’t just a social occasion. Fine; let’s talk about the case.
In my office, you said people don’t drown anymore—you did say it had been that
way since the eighties, right? Can you explain that to me? If people don’t
drown, how do they die?”

“Of course people drown, but there are mitigating
factors to consider. The will to survive is strong. When a person ends up in
the water, there has to be a reason why the person doesn’t survive the
immersion. More often the not, an accident of some sort plays a vital role.
Sometimes other medical conditions are to blame. If the victim goes into the
water unconscious, there’s a reason for that. It could be a heart attack, a drug
overdose, a seizure, a head injury—something. In the case of cold-water
immersion, like this, you have the property of the water to deal with too.”

“What do you mean? How’s cold water a bigger
problem?” He seemed genuinely interested, and Michelle warmed to her topic.

“Have you ever seen someone swimming on a hot day
come out of the water shivering?”

“I have, but it’s usually a child.”

“That’s right, but the principle applies to
everyone. Cold water carries heat away from the body twenty-five times faster
than cold air does. That means the body’s inner temperature drops quicker as it
tries to adjust to the conditions. That’s not all though. With the water barely
above freezing like it is, cold-water immersion itself can be the cause of
death, but I need to identify at what stage death occurred.”

“I didn’t realize it was so complicated. So what
stage is the deadliest?”

“It doesn’t work that way. Any stage can be fatal.
The person’s age and physical condition come into play too. Assuming they were
conscious when they went into the lake, in stage one, cold shock, the actual
moment the body hits the water can cause heart failure and occurs within the
first three to five minutes. If they survived the initial immersion, then we
need to look at swimming failure; that’s stage two. Because of the cold, the
brain sends the message to the arms and legs to move, but the limbs don’t obey.
Death usually occurs within the first half-hour. The colder the water, the
faster swimming failure happens. Bundled the way they were, I doubt they’d have
been able to swim at all.”

“Yeah.
I saw the
photograph. They were all wrapped up together. The police officer who took the
picture said it looked like they had one coat between them.
Doesn’t
make much sense to me.
There’s no way they could have paddled a canoe or
swum that way.”

Something he said nagged at her, but she couldn’t
put her finger on what or why. “Probably it was an effort to share body heat.
The fact the bodies didn’t sink and were found so soon has me wondering whether
or not they were near shore when the canoe capsized. They might have been close
enough to touch bottom and had been walking toward the shore when they died.
If that’s the case.
I’ll find signs of hypothermia—stage
three.”

“That’s freezing to death, right?”

Michelle nodded, pleased to have someone listening
to her who had some knowledge of the topic. It made her feel like less of a
geek.

“Yes. Body temperature falls below, eighty-nine
degrees Fahrenheit. They’d have been shivering prior to this point. Now,
shivering stops, and they’d have trouble talking and thinking, and a sort of
amnesia occurs. They become argumentative and disoriented. Muscle coordination
all but disappears, and hands and feet are numb. They could have suddenly
started walking back into the deeper water, or they could have stumbled and
been unable to stand again. Pulse and respiration slow, but the heart rate
increases as the major organs start to fail and eventually brain death occurs.”

“That sounds like it would have taken a while.
Wouldn’t they call for help?”

“It’s difficult to say. They might have, but who
would have heard them? I understand the weather was really bad Thursday night.”

“That’s true. Only a fool would have gone out on
the lake in that kind of weather. I can’t understand why the professor would
have sent them out in that.”