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Authors: Susanne Matthews

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BOOK: Echoes of the Past
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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.

“The coroner’s office insists on an inquest, and someone will
arrive to handle the matter for them by noon tomorrow. Apparently, they don’t
think we can take care of things to their satisfaction. I doubt Belleville will
do any better than we would have.”

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.

“With all due respect, get your head out of your ass, your
honor. Sodium hydroxide is a caustic substance better known as lye. Sodium
chloride is indeed salt, sodium nitrate, often called Chile or Peru saltpeter
is a highly flammable, air-sensitive, yellow powder, and ammonia hydroxide is a
deadly poison. All of these things are present in your lake water. They weren’t
there when I took preliminary samples last spring. They weren’t there a month
and a half ago when we started this project. They weren’t there two weeks ago.
Someone has opened a meth lab on your island, and unless you do something fast,
people are going to die.”

“Bull shit!” The mayor’s hands were clenched at his side,
and Tony knew Ron would like nothing better than to hit him. How had things
degenerated so quickly?

“Have you got independent collaboration of your so-called
findings? Where are these samples? Why haven’t they been sent to the police
department’s forensic lab? I’ll tell you why—because they don’t exist! I don’t
know why you’re making up these stories, why you’re trying to discredit our
island, but I want these crazy rumors of yours to stop.
Meth
lab, my ass.
You probably added the chemicals to the water yourself.”

Tony stared at the man and clenched his own fists at his
side. He’d love to wipe the smug look off the man’s face, but getting arrested
for assault wouldn’t be a smart move. He couldn’t let this fool bait him into
doing something stupid.

“What’s the matter, professor? Did your research tell you
what we’ve known for years? You bloody scientists have to try and explain
everything, don’t you? Some things are meant to remain a mystery. The lake has
defied geographical and geological theories for centuries. What makes you think
it’ll give up its secrets to you? It’s like Buddha’s magic bowl. No one knows
where the water comes from, and no one really cares as long as it’s there. Some
of us have respect for the beliefs of our ancestors.”

Tony spoke through clenched teeth. The animosity he felt for
the mayor was overwhelming. He’d never been this angry in his life.

“If everyone thought the way you do, we’d still believe the
world was flat. Mysteries
are
meant
to be solved. That’s what science does. It finds answers. We don’t live in the
dark ages. Fresh water is at a premium on this planet, and we need to know
where this poison is coming from before it’s too late.”

“There is no poison circulating in our lake!” Ron’s shout
echoed in the room.

The man’s red face reminded Tony of an enraged bull. All he
needed was steam to come out of his ears. He paced as he spoke, and Tony found
it harder and harder to keep his own temper in check.

“I know what’s really going on here,” Ron shouted. “There’s
no poison. There never was. You didn’t find what you were looking for in the
water, and those two kids knew it. Were they going to expose you as a fraud?
Tell the whole world their professor was off his rocker? After all, you’ve been
seeing things, and everyone knows it.”

“What the hell are you talking about Davies?”

“The maiden, of course.
Did you or
did you not ask Steve about a woman with long dark hair wrapped in a blanket
walking along the beach?”

“Yeah.
I wondered about her. She’s
out there a lot, in lousy weather too. I thought she might know something about
the break-in we had a few weeks ago. It might not be safe for her to be alone
like that.”

Ron
laughed,
a bitter sound grating
on Tony’s nerves. “Believe
me,
she’s safer than you
are. She’s been dead over two hundred years. You’ve described the Mohawk maiden
the way those who’ve seen her have.”

“You’re full of it.” Tony refused to believe the thoughts
he’d had himself earlier were true.

“The woman I’ve seen is real, not a ghost. Are you trying to
discredit me? Is that how you plan to deal with this when people start dying?”

Ron turned and slammed his fist on the desk.

“Start dying? Two people are dead and whatever is or is not
supposed to be poisoning the lake isn’t to blame—you are. Someone sent those
kids out on the lake last night. Where were you? I’ve spoken with the
investigating officers. You told them your students had come into town, but no
one saw them—not at the grocery store nor the drug mart, the two places where
you said they’d been. Their car’s in the resort’s parking lot. I’d work on my
alibi if I were you. When that forensic pathologist gets here, I’m sure he’ll
have questions for you.”

Tony seethed. Since when did the police share their findings
on a case with the mayor’s office? Lindsay and Aaron could have gone into
Belleville instead of
Picton
although she’d mentioned
picking up a prescription. He took several deep breaths in an effort to control
his rage. He’d like to wrap his hands around the mayor’s skinny neck and
squeeze until the man’s damn black eyes popped.

The vicious thought calmed him. He’d never resorted to
physical force to win an argument. Hell, he didn’t even watch hockey because he
couldn’t stand the fighting. Where were these murderous thoughts coming from?
They weren’t his. He needed to calm down and think things through. The mayor
wasn’t his enemy. It was as if there was someone else inside of him trying to
claw his way out. The headache intensified.

BOOK: Echoes of the Past
10.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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