Ron might be contrite, but he wasn’t convinced, and it showed in his stiff posture and scowl. He stared at the road.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. The man just rubs me the wrong way. There’s been nothing but trouble since he arrived. He’s trying to prove something that isn’t true, and those kids knew it. I think they were trying to discredit him, and he had to shut them up. Sending them out on the lake that night was a death sentence. Your results will prove me right.”
His assertion unnerved her. Confidence or cockiness? How can he be so certain?
“I spoke to the boy a couple of times. He used to be a good ball player until he blew out his knee. He thought the professor was an arrogant asshole. They argued repeatedly. The man joined the faculty at the University of Toronto five years ago and made tenure surprisingly fast—I guess it’s who you know. He’s got deep pockets or else he’s got his hands in someone else’s. He’s a snake oil salesman who knows how to sell his cock and bull theories to others who’ll throw their money away at the drop of a hat. He’s got Moorcroft in his pocket, and that means he’s probably looking at government sponsorship for his cockamamie ideas. Lately, he’s been mouthing off about pollution in the lake. You know how eager everyone is to jump on the environmental bandwagon these days. Personally, I think he’s nuts. You heard him. Did that sound like a sane man to you?”
She frowned. Audra said she needed to save the sacred waters. Since the Lake of the Mountain was the sacred lake, could the problem be something as simple as water pollution? How the hell was she supposed to do that? Tony was the hydrologist. He’d know all about water and pollution. Was Tony the one she needed? But as Mayor, Ron had all kinds of resources, but didn’t seem convinced there was a problem. She realized Ron waited for an answer.
“I don’t know. He was certainly upset, but unhinged? I spend some time at the university. I do guest lectures every once in a while. There certainly are people there with fantastic theories, but there are also others who work incredibly hard to find the right answers to solve all kinds of mysteries. Where would we be without researchers? Penicillin, insulin, vaccines—they were all theories once.”
Ron didn’t seem pleased with her answer. He concentrated on the road, and she watched the muscle in his cheek jump.
“You’re right.” She got the feeling he begrudged the admission.
“According to the professor’s bio—they sent me one when his research proposal was approved, just a courtesy—he’s done well for the university. Much as I’d like to send him packing, especially now, my hands are tied. If he’s found responsible, that’ll be another matter.”
“You seem to know a lot about him.”
“I make a point of learning all there is about the people on my island.”
His tone was proprietorial and unsettled her. What’s wrong with me? I liked him well enough an hour ago, now I’m questioning everything. I’ve never been fickle before, why now?
Ron reached for her hand. “I’m looking forward to learning more about you. If you decide the deaths weren’t accidental, how will you handle that? What will you look for?”
Something in his tone warned her this wasn’t an idle question. His gaze so friendly and welcoming only a short while ago avoided hers. It was true he was driving, but he’d looked at her plenty of times on the ride over. She chewed her lower lip as she organized her thoughts. Her spidey senses were tingling as Tasha would say. She kept her answer as general as possible.
“There’ll be physical signs indicating death occurred after they went into the water—lake water in their lungs and stomach for example. I’ll check the diatoms in the water, see if the blood has been diluted, and look for damage in the middle ear. There are other things I’ll consider, but they’re technical and hardly the stuff for pleasant conversations. Once I see any of those things, I’ll look for the signs to tell me at what stage they died. I’ll check the bodies for other trauma, and determine the exact cause of death. I’m very good at my job, Ron.” She swallowed. “If for some reason I discover they didn’t drown, which, considering how they were found is highly unlikely, I’ll immediately rule it a homicide and start a full investigation. Then, the autopsies will be more important than ever.”
“How long will that take? The press is always hounding me for answers.”
“I’ll have preliminary results within a day or two.” Maybe sooner, but he doesn’t have to know that.
Michelle wanted to ask Ron about the woman Tony claimed he’d seen, the one who looked like her, but since she’d answered his question, he’d been quiet, almost preoccupied. They pulled up in front of city hall, and Michelle opened the door. She crossed the street to her Camaro and Ron followed her.
“Nice car.” He walked around the vehicle openly admiring its sleek lines.
“She’s my baby. My boss let me take her this time, but I usually use a company car on the job. She’d been sitting in the garage for months and needed a run.”
“Don’t forget, I’ll pick you up around ten.” Whatever animosity she’d sensed earlier had vanished. “Maybe you can take me for a spin afterward when we go for lunch.”
She smiled, pleased things seemed to be back to normal. “Play your cards right, and I might even let you drive.”
Where the hell did that come from? I’ve never let anyone drive my car—not even Tasha!
Michelle unlocked the car, got inside, and waved at Ron as he drove off back the way they’d come. It had started to drizzle again. Using the car’s integrated phone system, she checked for messages and texted Tasha she’d arrived safely. She set the coordinates for Belleville General into the Camaro’s GPS system and glanced at her watch. It was three-thirty—plenty of time to take a look at the bodies and get back to the resort in time to check-in. If she got carried away as she often did, she’d find a place to crash in the city, get some rest, and go out to the resort early in the morning. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d use two hotel rooms on one assignment. As long as she was at the resort by ten tomorrow to meet Ron, everything would be fine. For some reason, she was reluctant to have him know she was going there now.
Damn! Gut feeling or something more? Keeping secrets is a lousy way to start a relationship, but something isn’t right. He’s trying too hard to convince me Tony’s guilty as if planting the suggestion in my mind will make it true.
Her brain and her heart seemed to be having a difference of opinion about the men she’d met today. How could she be physically and emotionally attracted to them both when she’d never been attracted to any man that way before? Michelle started the car and followed the GPS directions back to the mainland. In minutes, she’d left Picton behind. She drove along the deserted highway listening to Shania Twain music hoping the tunes would empower her, but she sensed a lot of what was to come was out of her hands. Even with the sounds of Feel like a Woman blaring from the car’s speakers, she felt like a puppet dancing to the will of the gods. Had going to see the bodies now been her decision or were The Three Sisters trying to rush things along?
This part of the island was more agricultural than the other half had been. Highway 62 crossed dairy and sheep farms and corn and soybean fields, rather than vineyards. By now, most of the grains had been harvested, but here and there, a combine sat abandoned waiting for the weather to change so the last of the crops could be collected. She crossed a minor river and drove past a small airport. The access road was paved, so she assumed the landing strip must see regular use.
The rain eased and the visibility improved as she moved north. She came to the bridge over the Bay of Quinte, crossed and then turned onto Dundas Street east toward the hospital. The thirty-minute drive had been uneventful. Michelle pulled into the doctors’ parking lot, and stopped the car. She displayed her provincial coroner’s parking permit on her dash. With that pass, she could park anywhere in the province without paying. The last thing she needed was to be digging for change for a meter when she was on the
clock.
After noting her arrival time in a small blue notebook she used for that purpose, she opened the trunk, removed her autopsy bag, and strode quickly toward the main entrance. There was probably an employee door she could use, but they generally required swipe cards. She’d need to get one as soon as she could. As she approached the information counter, she took her identification out of her pocket, and smiled at the woman behind the desk. The tag on the woman’s shirt said, Hi I’m Carol. I volunteer.
“Good afternoon, Carol.” Michelle smiled pleasantly. Volunteers were the unsung heroes of most hospitals. “I’m Dr. Thomas from the Provincial Coroner’s Office. Can you direct me to the morgue?”
The woman stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown another head.
“You want to go to the morgue?” She looked so shocked Michelle laughed.
“I do. That’s where you keep the bodies, isn’t it? I’m here to see two of them. Someone is expecting me.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Thomas.” The woman apologized. Her cheeks reddened. “I’m new here. No one’s ever asked me for the morgue before. I’m not sure I know where it is. It wasn’t on the tour. Let me call the administrator on call.”
Michelle smiled and nodded. She was pretty sure the morgue would be off-limits on most hospital tours. It wasn’t the first time this had happened to her and wouldn’t be the last. She watched Carol make a call, speak briefly, and hang up
The woman replaced the phone in its cradle and smiled at her. “I’m sorry about that, Dr. Thomas. Dr. Runions will be here shortly. He’s the administrator on call. He’ll know what to do. You can wait over there if you like.”
The woman indicated chairs under the windows. Michelle wandered over and sat down on a hard green leatherette and steel chair. She checked her cell phone for the images the police were supposed to have sent, but nothing had come through. Swallowing her frustration, she emailed Sheila and asked her to check on them. She wanted to—no needed to—see those pictures as soon as possible. The one she had wasn’t nearly enough to work with.
Michelle opened a couple of sarcastic poster emails from Tasha. Her friend had a warped sense of humor. After closing the phone and putting it in her purse, she reached for one of the magazines on the table—a ten-year-old copy of Readers’ Digest—and shook her head. Why were the waiting room magazines always so out of date? She’d barely had time to thumb through it when a middle-aged man wearing green hospital scrubs came up to her with his hand extended. She stood and reached for it. He had a firm grip.
“Dr. Thomas? Jeremy Runions.”
He had a slight British accent that reminded her of one of her old pathology professors.
“Dr. Williams is out of town until Monday, but I’m at your disposal for the next couple of hours unless an emergency comes up. The morgue is in the basement. I’ll take you down there and get you temporary credentials. That way, you can come and go as you please. I assume that’s what you’d prefer?”
The man was attractive with a headful of dark red hair, more than his fair share of light freckles, and vivid green eyes. His friendly manner relaxed her, and Michelle liked him immediately.
“That would be great. Being able to come and go as I please would be a big help. I tend to keep strange hours when I’m on a case. Follow the evidence, right? I’ll need documentation to send stuff to the lab too.”
“This way.” He led her to a bank of elevators and pressed the call button.
“We have a room down there where you can change and put on scrubs. You’re here for the two pulled out of the lake yesterday. Craziest thing I’ve ever seen. I was working in the E.R. when they brought them in. The bodies were almost in full rigor when they got here. We couldn’t have separated them even if we’d wanted to, but your boss said no one was to touch them until you arrived.”
“I’m sorry about that. Colin can be a bit abrupt at times, but in my investigations, vital evidence can easily be unintentionally compromised. What time did the bodies get here?”
“Just after ten yesterday morning—almost thirty hours ago. I know it was cold outside, and they were still submerged in the lake when they were found, but they should be out of rigor now.”
“I hope so. I’m interested in what’s underneath the jacket. Considering how they were found, I’m not sure liver temperature would have helped. I’ll use stomach contents, lividity, and the last time anyone saw them to give me a possible range for time of death.”
“Well, the ambient temperature was about forty-five, and we’ve kept them less than ten degrees cooler. We didn’t think you’d want them in negative storage.”
“You’re right. Since we know who they are, I want to get this over and done with as soon as possible. I’ve seen bodies bundled together like that when people have become trapped in cars in a snowstorm when they were trying to share body heat, but never in the water. It doesn’t make sense. I’m quite anxious to see what the bodies have to say.” Another doctor wouldn’t suspect she meant it literally.
The elevator doors opened, and he led her down a hall similar to all the hospital basement halls she’d ever seen. This one was painted a soft green.
“I’ve arranged for a couple of dieners to assist you. The techs should be waiting for us in the autopsy room when we get there. The hospital lab is at your disposal for whatever tests you need run, and the police forensic lab is on stand-by to examine the clothing and whatever else you send them. We understand Liam Moorcroft’s niece is one of the victims. He’s our member of parliament, so this cuts close to home. We’ll do everything we can to help you, but everyone knows you’re in charge. No one is going to be playing cock of the rock here.”
They came to a door, and Jeremy pushed it open.
“We can change in here.”
Michelle followed him into a break room consisting of a common area with sofas, tables and chairs, and a counter on which sat an individual brew coffee maker next to a small refrigerator.
“The place is usually busy during the week when the labs are on full duty. On the weekend, there’s just a skeleton crew in place, but they’ve been instructed to give your stuff top priority. If you need more, we’ll call in additional personnel. I’ll meet you here.”
He indicated a door marked women. Michelle thanked him and entered the dressing room. She hadn’t realized Moorcroft was the local Member of Parliament. She’d thought him one of the many from the Toronto area. No wonder everyone was on pins and needles about this case. Colin could have told her that and come to think of it, why hadn’t Ron? He’d made the comment about Tony having Moorcroft in his pocket…He might have assumed she knew. An outsider like Tony would make a great scapegoat too.
Knowing whose sandbox she was playing in was always a good thing, and now that she was aware of whose home turf she was on, she knew who to contact if she needed anything above and beyond what she thought she would. It also added pressure to get the job done quickly and efficiently. There couldn’t be any corners cut on this one—not that she cut corners. Her problems generally arose because she looked more deeply into things than people wanted.
How these two were involved with The Three Sisters and her mission might be a mystery, but solving their deaths was a priority. Ron’s comments about Tony resurfaced in her mind. Pollution was a serious matter. If there were pollutants in the lake, why would Ron want to deny them? Was Tony searching for an excuse to justify his lack of results? Would he kill two people to keep them quiet?
She undressed, hung her clothing in an empty locker, and donned the scrubs provided. After twisting her braid onto the top of her head, she covered it with a surgical cap and grabbed a pair of booties for her feet. As a pathologist, she knew the smell of decomposition could linger in the clothing she wore as well as in her hair.
The thought she might smell of death bothered her. The last thing she wanted was for Ron or Tony to smell decaying flesh on her, especially since her visit here was a clandestine one.
She picked up her b
ag and returned to the common area where Dr. Runions waited for her. He’d changed as well. The long-sleeved scrubs provided were lined and thicker than those used in the O.R. or the rest of the hospital. It was cold in the morgue. These were designed to keep the pathologist clean and warm. Dr. Runions handed her an apron.
“We keep face shields, masks, and lined gloves in the autopsy room itself. The techs are getting the bodies. You’ll be using room three since it has better ventilation, and we’ve got two empty drawers in there for them. They were kept in another area last night. We don’t have drawers large enough to accommodate a mass that size. I assume you’ll try to separate them?”
“Yes, it’s the first thing I intend to do after I conduct an exterior examination.” She held up the picture she’d pulled out of her case earlier. “A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it doesn’t always tell the whole story. Once they’re separated, I’ll need help undressing the bodies. Are the techs mine for the time I’m here, or do they normally work elsewhere?”
“Milo’s a pathology lab tech who volunteered for the assignment. He’s thinking of going back to medical school. Jamie works full-time as a diener in the morgue. Your boss has seconded him for the duration. We didn’t expect you so soon, but now that you’re here, he’s all yours. If you think you’ll need more help, you’ve got me for the weekend, and on Monday, George will be back to give you a hand.”
Michelle nodded and entered the modern, well-appointed autopsy room. The technicians, one with a camera around his neck, stood beside a large body bag.
“Gentlemen, this is Dr. Michelle Thomas. You’ll be working with her until someone tells you otherwise. Dr. Thomas is with the Provincial Coroner’s Office. Michelle, Milo,” he indicated the young man with dark hair and olive skin who held a camera, “and Jamie.” The other lab tech had light brown hair, fair skin, and wore wire-rimmed glasses.
Echoes of the Past Page 12
