Echoes of the Past (25 page)

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Authors: Susanne Matthews

BOOK: Echoes of the Past
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Tony stared into his mug of draft. He thought of
the lake the night of the storm, the night Aaron and Lindsay had died. It had
looked angry and vengeful; certainly, it had looked alive. Something was wrong.
He’d gotten to know Isaac and the man was as sure footed as a mountain goat. How
did a man like that fall and split his head open on a rock—the same rock he’s
used to prop those doors open for years?

Tony picked up his mug and took a drink. He knew
the reason for his disquiet had nothing to do with Isaac’s unfortunate
accident. He looked around the restaurant, but she wasn’t here. Her car was in
the parking lot. He’d knocked on her cottage door, but she hadn’t answered. He
hoped she wasn’t still angry with him, but how could he blame her if she was?
Steve came back up to talk to him again.

“Have you seen the new guest yet?” Tony tried to
inject a bit of nonchalance in his tone.

“You mean the coroner from Toronto? She and Kara
found the body.” He chuckled. “She looks a lot like your mystery woman, doesn’t
she? Charlie at the Explorer told me about your little run-in yesterday.”

Tony shook his head. The grapevine around here was
alive in more ways than one.
“Yeah.
I made a pretty
big fool of myself.”

Steve nodded, but instead of the sarcastic comment
Tony had come to expect from the man, his face grew serious.

“Don’t sweat it. Charlie said she looked so much
like the maiden he did a double take himself. I know I’ve teased you about her,
but lots of people on the island believe they’ve seen her—not just tourists.
I’m not a believer in all that, but if I were, I’d believe you’ve seen her too.
What did you ask me? Oh yeah, whether or not I saw her—not up close. But she
and the mayor left here around a quarter after ten. I drove Kara to the ferry
where her folks were picking her up on the other side.”

Tony looked down at his watch. It was almost
twelve. Jealousy and anger bloomed in his stomach. She’d gone off with him and
hadn’t even had the decency to leave him a note or thank him for the food.
So much for his apology.
Women were all the same.
Always attracted to the guy with the most power and prestige.

Tony stared at himself in the mirror behind the
bottles of liquor. Why was he on edge like this? Why did he feel as if he were
coming unglued? The laughter in the room didn’t suit his mood, so he paid
Steve, left the inn, and walked back to his house. The day was cool, but
without wind, the sun warmed the area in front of his cottage nicely. He sat in
one of the Adirondack chairs and closed his eyes, letting the sun’s heat soothe
his jumbled mind. He must have dozed. The sound of voices roused him from his
stupor. He opened his eyes and looked around to see what had awakened him.

Down on the beach, two teenaged boys were clearing
things away. They’d taken down the yellow police tape, the canoe was gone, and
they’d almost finished gathering the sticks and other garbage. Tony stood up,
stretched, and wondered who’d authorized the cleanup. He turned in the
direction of the toolshed and saw the crime tape had been taken down too.

That was
fast. Not wasting any time on this, that’s for sure.

He walked down to the beach.

“Afternoon, guys. So, this is no longer a crime
scene?”

One of the boys, no more than sixteen smiled up at
him.

“Never was. The police officer called and told the
owners we could clean it up yesterday, but we didn’t feel like working in the
rain. Figured no one would notice if we waited until today. We got the call
about the toolshed too. Just as well we waited. No sense driving out here
twice. Professor, will your students be continuing their research?”

Tony looked at the boy.

“Not sure yet, why do you ask?”

“Just wondered.
I’m into
science, and I think what you’re trying to prove is cool. I’m Joseph Smoke’s grandson.
My grandfather says he knows you. Can we put the rest of the canoes away or
will you still need them?”

“Go ahead and put them away. If we need any more
samples, we’ll take them from the shore line. I don’t want any of my people in
those boats ever again.”

The young man nodded.

“Your grandfather is a nice man. I’ll leave my contact
information with him. If you decide to study hydrology someday, give me a
call.”

“Gee, thanks.” The appreciation on the boy’s face
made Tony smile.

He turned and retraced his steps to the tree house.
He’d considered getting samples from a canoe, but the forlorn look on Jackson’s
face had convinced him it was a bad idea. There had to be someplace on this
island where he could get an old-fashioned, flat-bottomed row boat.

He looked up to see Michelle get out of the
mayor’s truck. She spoke to him for a couple of moments, and then Ron drove
away. He watched her walking toward her cottage and saw the exact moment when
she saw him. She smiled and waved. He forced down his anger and jealousy. She
walked over to him.

“Good morning. Thanks for breakfast. I meant to
leave a note, but there was some excitement just before I left to go running.
It was inconsiderate of me. I’m sorry. You heard about the handyman?”

There I go
reacting without thinking. It was an oversight. A dead body certainly can
account for that.

Michelle looked better than ever. Her face, devoid
of cosmetics, glowed, flushed with runner’s high, the exertion, and the cold.
Her clothes, skin-tight bottoms probably made of Thermion, paired with a
matching fitted jacket, which she’d unzipped to expose the tight shirt under
it, were among the best available, and molded her body as if they’d been
sculpted onto it.

The lady wasn’t a novice. She carried a large
purse with a wool sweater hanging out of the top of it. Running in cool weather
meant knowing how to dress in layers. She also carried a snug-fitting wool hat
and gloves in her other hand. Her shoes, bright red, were a brand he
recognized. They might cost a small fortune, but if you took your running
seriously, you needed the best footwear you could get. He knew she expected an
answer, but she looked so damn hot, he wondered if his ability to speak had
deserted him. He was grateful when his brain suddenly seemed to work again.

“I did. I didn’t know him well, but he didn’t
strike me as the clumsy type. You’re welcome for breakfast. It was the least I
could do since I seem to be constantly getting off on the wrong foot with you.
How was the run?”

“Not bad. We did some road running as well as
cross-country. Do you run? I think I read that in your bio.”

“I do. Maybe we can run together some morning.
I’ve found some good trails through the trees since I’ve been here.”

A sudden vision of Ron and other men chasing him
along those trails stopped him cold. Was that why he disliked Ron? He reminded
him of those who’d chased and tortured him in his dreams?

“Tony? Are you okay? You’ve gotten so pale.”

Michelle’s question dragged him back.

“I’m fine.” He hated lying to her, but how could
he explain these feelings? “I was wondering about Isaac. Falling doesn’t seem
right to me. Maybe the old boy had a heart attack or something?”

“Or something.
I’ve had
the body taken to the hospital in Belleville.”

“Why? Do you think his death is related?”

There was
a wariness
in
her eyes, and her demeanor changed.

“No, all accidental deaths have to be signed off
by a coroner. Since the local man’s on holiday, I thought I might as well do
it. I have to wait for lab work on Aaron and Lindsay anyway.”

He nodded, and knew she was lying. Did she think
he’d killed Isaac? Why would she think that?

“Jackson and I just got back from collecting
samples,” he looked at his watch, “about an hour ago.” He hadn’t dozed long at
all. “Have you had lunch?”

“Not yet, but I have a lunch date. I’ve got to get
ready. Ron will be back at one. He’s taking me for a tour of the winery. In
case you hadn’t noticed, I had the canoe and Aaron’s car taken to the crime lab
for processing. I’ll let you know what I find.” She’d lowered her voice.

“The local one?”

“No. It’s gone to the RCMP facility in Kingston.”

Tony whistled.

“Well, they should be able to give you impartial
results. I see you released the crime scenes or rather the not a crime scenes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That.” He turned and pointed to the lake where
the boys were raking the sand and collecting the last of the branches.

The look on Michelle’s face was priceless, and for
the first time in his life, he understood what the term spitting-mad looked
like. She dropped what she’d been holding and stomped off toward the beach, her
hands fisted at her side, fury emanating from every pore of her body. Tony followed
her down and couldn’t help feeling sorry for Joseph’s grandson and his young
friend. They were obviously in for it.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Her voice echoed across the water, and the boys
stopped and looked up.

“Who told you to touch my crime scene? You can be
charged with compromising evidence.”

Joseph’s grandson blanched, and he dropped the
rake he’d been using to smooth the sand.

“We work for the owners,” he stammered. “We were
supposed to do this yesterday. My boss called me and said the police had
released the beach, and we could clean it up. The other place, the toolshed, we
got called about this morning. They said it could be cleaned it up since it
wasn’t a crime scene or anything.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“Do you want us to stop?”

Michelle inspected the beach around her and looked
from one boy to the other. She shook her head in apparent disgust. Tony could
see she fought to harness her temper. Her fists relaxed at her side as she
realized the boys weren’t to blame. The youngest one looked scared enough to
wet
himself
.

“Did you find anything—bottles, broken glass,
shredded fabric?” Her voice was quiet, but the authority in it was
unmistakable.

“Nothing like glass.
We
put everything over there.” The boy indicated a brush pile near the edge of the
beach. “We were going to burn it.”

Michelle moved over to the brush pile, searched through
the pile, and walked back empty-handed.

“You might as well finish. Go ahead and burn the
debris. Sorry I yelled at you. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“I guess that answers my question.” Tony laughed
as she retraced her steps to him. He could see she was still angry, but she had
herself under control.

“It’s a damn good thing it rained yesterday. If it
hadn’t, this would all have been cleaned away before I’d even arrived. At least
I had time to examine the scene earlier when I got up. I took pictures of the
beach and the shed too. I’ll find out who released my crime scene. Someone is
trying to compromise this investigation, and I don’t like it one damn bit.”

She blushed. “I’m sorry for losing my temper like
that. I don’t usually, but when someone messes with my work, I tend to go
ballistic.” She reached out her hand and touched his forearm. “Listen, I’ll be
back late-afternoon. After lunch, I want to run over to the morgue for a bit.
When I get back, I’d like to talk to your students. Could you bring them over
to my cottage, say around six?”

Tony nodded. “I’ll have them there. Will you want
to meet the families tonight too?”

“I should. I can’t tell them much, but they should
know the bodies will be held indefinitely. They can probably go home for now. Maybe
you can have them come over around six-thirty? It won’t take me long to
interview your students.”

“I’ll tell them this afternoon. Will you have
dinner with me?” He hadn’t known he was going to say the words until they were
out.

“I’d like that.
In the
restaurant here?”

“Yeah.
It’s
close, and the foods just as good as the Explorer’s. We can talk after. Enjoy
your lunch. Oh, if you get a chance, can you ask Ron for permission to take
water samples on the lake at the edge of his property? He’s forbidden me and my
students from going on private property.”

She frowned as if his request confused her. “I’ll
see what I can do. I’ve got to go and get ready. Later.”

She turned away and walked across the grass to her
cottage.

 
 
 

Chapter Thirteen

 
 

Michelle hurried across the short distance to her
cottage. The electric charge she’d felt from the brief contact with Tony’s arm
under her hand had startled her. It had been far stronger than her reaction to
Ron’s touch. She’d almost pulled away, but that would have seemed odd, since
she’d been the one to reach out. She unlocked the door to her cottage and stepped
inside. She froze. She smelled the unmistakable aroma of an unwashed body.
Since the door had been locked and could only be locked by key, whoever had
been inside had come and gone.

I’m being
ridiculous. What I smell is probably the cleaning staff, but cleaners with poor
hygiene don’t bode well for the place.

She went into the bathroom and glared at the
shower. She was sweaty and smelly from the run and her little bout of temper.
When she found out who’d compromised her crime scene, she’d have him knocked
down a peg or two. She looked at her watch.
Twenty to one.
Ron would be here soon.

She remembered the look on his face when she’d
mentioned examining the crime scene and sending the car and canoe to the crime
lab. She didn’t like knowing he was aware of her movements, and his comments
about her body had made her feel uncomfortable. She dressed to run, not to
attract male attention. When had her attraction to the man cooled? She liked Ron,
didn’t she? Maybe his comment about her body had just come out wrong. She was
attracted to his physical appearance. Why shouldn’t he be drawn to hers? How was
it different?

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