Echoes of the Past (5 page)

The breath whooshed out of her, and she was suddenly
light-headed.
It isn’t him!
Incredible
joy filled her.

Colin’s voice pulled her back, and she forced herself to
pay attention.

“They were graduate students from the University of
Toronto working on a research project at the Lake of the Mountain Resort.
Lindsay is Liam Moorcroft’s niece, and he wants answers.”

Michelle’s head jerked up.
“The
Minister of Agriculture?”

Colin nodded.

“Damn!” She bit her lower lip, a nervous habit she’d
acquired years ago. “I guess that explains why this case has you upset. Were
they into drugs? Could this be a lovers’ quarrel gone bad? She’s missing a
shoe. I don’t see it among the debris. Do we know for sure they were in the
canoe?”

Colin scowled at her, and she wondered what she’d said to
annoy him.

“This case is our top priority. As far as your questions go,
your guess is as good as mine.”

He slammed his fist on the desk, and she jumped, startled by
the uncharacteristic outburst.

“I know the family, Michelle. Liam Moorcroft and I went to
school together. She wasn’t into drugs. What the hell were they doing out there
in the middle of a storm in the first place? Everyone I’ve spoken to, other
than the family, wants to get this sorted out as soon as possible. It’s as if the
locals are trying to sweep this under the rug. It doesn’t feel right.”

He leaned back in his chair, frustration and grief evident
on his face. He massaged his temples.

“I’ve told George Winters, the Belleville M.E., to keep his
hands off the bodies until you arrive, and I don’t think that’ll be today. The crime
scene is at the Lake of the Mountain in Prince Edward County. That’s three
hours away in good weather. The rain’s already started to fall, and the storm
front’s moving in from the east. It isn’t going to get any better until
tomorrow.”

Maybe I should forget
about having an apartment and buy a mobile home instead or maybe one of those
big rigs that open up into God knows how many rooms. Have autopsy kit, will travel.

Michelle shook her head at her own bad joke, and nodded
resigned.

“Have Sheila send me the rest of the photographs as soon as
we get them. I don’t see paddles or life jackets. I need to finish up the
paperwork on my last case, and a little more sleep wouldn’t hurt either. Those
two aren’t going anywhere. You can let them know I’ll be there by lunchtime
tomorrow.” She rubbed her eyes and ran her hands down the side of her face.

“What were they doing there?”

“Aaron and Lindsay were assisting their professor, Dr.
Anthony Steele, with a hydrology research project. Do you know what hydrology
is?”

“Hydrologists study water—where to find it, how it moves
from place to place, and its relationship with the environment. They study the water
cycle. I think they also look at its chemical composition and water pollution.”

“They do. With all the talk about global warming and pending
disasters, taking care of the environment has become a top priority. Lindsay
wanted to save the planet.” He closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and continued.

“This Lake of the Mountain is a geographical conundrum. It
defies explanation. The area immediately surrounding it, the strip of beach
where the bodies were found, is part of the Lake of the Mountain Provincial
Park, apparently a popular tourist destination for people with vivid
imaginations.”

She frowned.
Why do I
think the lakeshore looks familiar? I’ve never been there.
She focused on
Colin’s words.

“Some claim they’ve seen sea monsters of the Loch Ness
variety. Others have seen Indian ghosts along the shore and canoes on the
water. No one knows where the lake’s water comes from, but apparently the water
level never changes, even though it empties itself into the Bay of
Quinte
via a small waterfall on its eastern side. The local
authorities claim the center of the lake’s bottomless. Ostensibly, they’ve done
depth soundings at one hundred and twelve feet, and they didn’t find bottom. Lindsay
was tremendously excited about this research project.”

“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 pulled 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.”