He approached the counter where a smiling young woman rose from her seat behind a desk and approached him. She dropped her arms on the counter, leaned forward, and asked in a cheerful voice, “You been here before?”
Jake nodded. “A couple of times.”
“Where you headed?”
Although there were numerous drive-in campgrounds in Algonquin, the park is better known for its interior camping accessible only by canoe or hiking in the summer, or plodding through snow in the winter. Jake preferred something in between—something remote and quiet, but accessible without a lot of hiking.
“Wendigo Lake,” he answered.
The woman waved a pencil at him. “That’s a long way in. Things might look civilized right here,” she said. “But the further you proceed from this point, the wilder the park becomes. It’s possible to spend several days in there without seeing any other people.”
“That’s ok,” Jake said, and offered a smile. “That’s why we’re here.”
The woman looked down at the boys. “You guys watch out for bears, now. They’re probably more afraid of you than you are of them, but don’t get too close if you see one.”
Matty grinned up at the woman. “Don’t worry. We’ve got some bear spray.”
“I’m not afraid,” Kyle put in.
Jake paid for a three-day permit and grabbed a brochure from a display rack. He flipped through it. It contained basic information on the park as well as tips and protocol. The last section warned against approaching bears and other wildlife. Jake folded it and tucked it into his back pocket.
“Here’s a map of the area.” The woman handed him a sheet of paper. She tapped at one spot with her pencil. “Here’s Wendigo Lake.” She moved the pencil down to the bottom of the page. “And here’s a list of all the trails. Please keep your vehicle on the main road until you reach the lake.” She smiled and added, “There might be some rough terrain, so drive carefully.”
Jake assured her they would and stuffed the map and permit into his shirt pocket. “Let’s go, boys.”
They got in the car and drove to the main gate where he showed his pass. The attendant gave it a cursory look and handed it back. “Have a good time now.”
The road was smooth going for the first couple of miles, and then slowly deteriorated into a narrower, bumpy ride. According to the vehicle’s compass, the trail wound south for several miles, and then west. As the vehicle topped the final rise, the sparkling lake waters came into view.
“There it is,” Matty shouted.
Jake drove a few hundred more feet, and then pulled the SUV onto a lush, grassy area between two towering maples. He looked around at their private getaway, nestled in a forest of mature pine, maple, and hemlock trees. To the right, masses of blueberries grew near smooth rock outcrops. Everywhere, the goldenrods were in full bloom, a reminder autumn was not far away.
“Don’t wander off,” Jake said, as they climbed out. “I want to get the tent up before dark and I’ll need your help.”
It took them half an hour to erect the shelter, the boys possibly being more hindrance than help. Matty and Kyle unloaded the rest of the gear, lugging it to the tent.
“Not the food,” Jake said. “Bears are constantly looking for food and they’ll smell it a mile away. Our tent will be a shambles if they dig for it and they’ll keep coming back. We’ll never get rid of them. Leave all the food inside the vehicle, as well as soap, toothpaste, and anything they can smell.”
In a few minutes, they had everything organized and Jake dropped into a lawn chair and stretched his legs in front of him, enjoying the quiet, unspoiled calm. A small woodpecker worked in the tree above his head. A flock of geese honked as they flew over, heading south.
“Hey, Dad. We’re hungry.”
They spent a few minutes scrounging for firewood. The wild forest around them was littered with dead branches and trees and soon they had a fire going, wieners sizzling over the flame, and buns toasting nearby.
When they finished eating, Matty asked, “Can we go look at the lake now?”
“And go swimming?” Kyle added.
“Sure.”
The boys changed into their swim trunks and soon the three of them snaked their way through the heavy grass and down to the water’s edge. A moose fed in the shallows a hundred feet away. It reared its head when they approached and lumbered into the thick foliage.
Off to their right, a mother loon taught her lone chick the finer arts of fishing. It paid them no attention, safely out of reach of the intruders. To the east, where the large bay on the edge of the lake met the western sky, a natural rock dam forced a river into a torrent where it dumped into the lake. This was nature at its best.
Matty and Kyle had wandered into the water, the shallow beaches of the lake allowing them to wade out fifty feet where the still water was only waist deep.
Jake sank down onto a rock, enjoying the serenity of the spot, entranced by the majestic beauty. The evening sun painted the sky as it dropped over the western horizon. It would be dark soon.
CHAPTER 13
Thursday, 7:12 PM
VARICK LUCAS leaned against a towering pine and observed the cabin. It perched in the middle of a small clearing, surrounded by weeds, and everything appeared to be undisturbed, just as it was when he was last here, several years ago. Back then, he and the guys were more interested in whatever bass and lake trout they could pull out, maybe a little canoeing up and down the rivers, and of course, to see how much beer they could drink in a weekend.
Today was a different matter, however. He was looking for a place to lie low awhile—maybe for years—and this would be the perfect spot. He could always trap some game and steal other necessary supplies from the nearby town. And there were always unsuspecting campers a couple of miles east he could rob. He’d done that before as well, and never got caught.
He stood upright, eased down the knoll, waded through the weeds, and approached the cabin from the rear. He peered in through a small window, dead center of the back of the building. The interior was dim, the surrounding trees keeping out most of the light. A few rays shone through a side window and lit up one end of the room, revealing a small cot.
It appeared someone had been here recently, and perhaps was close by. That was pretty much what he expected.
He crept around toward the front of the building, stopped at the corner, poked his head around, and grinned. His old friend, Otis, lounged in a tattered hammock, a beer in one hand, a smoke in the other. He’d changed a lot, but there was no mistake about it; it was Otis. He was gonna be in for a surprise.
“Otis,” Lucas shouted, stepping into clear view.
Otis shot upright. The hammock teetered and spilled him onto the ground, his beer draining away onto the trodden-down weeds and soil surrounding him. He sat in the dirt and peered at his old friend, a dumbfounded look on his face. Finally, he sputtered, “What the … Varick Lucas … how the—”
Varick interrupted and took a couple of steps forward. “Happy to see me Otis?”
Otis made it to his feet, stuck the smoke in his mouth, and stood glaring at Lucas. “Varick, you’re out already? I thought—”
“Thought what, Otis?”
“I thought … they put you away for good.”
“They tried to. Couldn’t hold me. I found my own way out.” Varick settled into a lawn chair, leaned back, and crossed his arms. He looked disapprovingly at his friend, at his ragged beard, his tattered clothes, his uncombed hair straggling down over his ears. He looked like a tramp, and smelled like he could use a dip in the lake. “So, you didn’t answer my question, buddy. Are you happy to see me?”
“I, uh … yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Lucas squinted at Otis. “Maybe because if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have spent the last five years rotting behind bars.”
Otis looked uneasy and spoke in an almost pleading voice. “Come on, Varick. You know that wasn’t my fault. I had no choice.”<
br />
“There’s always a choice, Otis. You could’ve kept your mouth shut about that night.”
“But you left me there to hang. And the woman saw you plug the guard.”
“I had a ski mask on, Otis. They never saw my face.”
Otis ground his cigarette into the dirt, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and kept his eyes on the ground a moment. Finally, he raised his head and spoke firmly. “They had me cold; it was either me or you. I was going to go down for murder and they offered me immunity if I testified against you.”
Varick uncrossed his arms, leaned forward, and glared. “And so, you gave up your old friend to save your own hide. What kind of a friend does that?”
Otis’s voice came out as a whine. “A frightened one.” He paused, cleared his throat and spoke more firmly. “I couldn’t do time like you, Varick. I wouldn’t survive in there.”
“I survived.”
Otis fidgeted with his hands, an uncomfortable look in his eyes as he avoided Varick’s stare. He prodded the empty beer bottle with his foot, and then kicked it across the clearing. It landed near a spray of goldenrods that had somehow managed to work their way up through the dirt.
Otis spoke slowly, quietly. “I … I’m sorry, Varick. I really am.” He looked at his friend earnestly. “If I could do it again, it would be different.”
“Different how?”
“Just different, that’s all. I wouldn’t have squealed on you.”
Varick nodded slowly as he observed Otis. His friend was a liar, and probably afraid. And he had every reason to be afraid.
Otis steadied the still-swinging hammock, sat back down, and dug his smokes from his shirt pocket. His hand trembled as he poked a cigarette into his mouth and flicked his lighter. He took a long drag, blew the smoke into the air, watched it rise, and then turned his attention back to the conversation. “What’re you gonna do, Varick?”
“About you?”
Otis nodded uneasily, still twiddling his fingers.
Varick shrugged. “Nothing.” Yeah right, nothing. He had to do something; his honor was at stake. “You owe me, Otis. I did your time. You owe me.”
Otis spoke in a fervent voice. “Whatever you want, Varick. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Varick said nothing.
Finally, Otis broke the uneasy silence. “How’d you know I was here?”
“I might’ve been inside but word gets around. I heard you had taken off somewhere. Figured it was here. I know how you always liked this place.”
Otis nodded. “Yeah, it’s quiet here.”
Varick eyed Otis thoughtfully. “Figured I might stay awhile. You know, until things blow over.”
“Sure, Varick. It’ll be cool to have you here.” The words tumbled out eagerly. “You can stay as long as you want.”
Varick grinned. “I thought you’d say that.”
CHAPTER 14
Thursday, 7:56 PM
THE CAR TIRES squealed as the driver hit the brakes and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. The vehicle came to a dead stop, backed up fifty feet, and stopped again. The driver leaned sideways, blinked a couple of times, and stared out the passenger side window.
The driver side door swung open and a man stepped out, hurried around the car, and gazed into the ditch. He scratched his head and frowned. The sight before him was not exactly what he expected to see today.
A body in the ditch lay on its back, nestled in weeds, feet pointing upwards, but there was no doubt about it; it was a dead person and it shouldn’t be there.
He climbed down into the ditch for a closer look. The sight was gruesome and made him gag. He looked away and climbed back out of the ditch.
He glanced up and down the road, hoping to see another vehicle, perhaps someone else who could take responsibility for finding the body and all the headaches along with it. He didn’t want to get involved in something like this.
There were no other cars in sight and he considered a moment. Should he leave it alone and be on his way? Better judgment took over his thoughts and he sighed, reached for his cell phone, and called 9-1-1.
He decided not to give the police his name, then he could be on his way with no one the wiser. There was no need for him to stick around. It was a dead body and he didn’t have anything to do with it. Besides, he had better things to do right now.
He gave the emergency operator a few details, the approximate location of the body, then got back in his car and continued on his way. He’d done his duty and that was that.
~~*~~
RCMP SERGEANT LANCE BREWER had barely finished interviewing Ben and Sally Ann Draper when he got word of the body that had been discovered.
The Draper’s car was stolen at gunpoint by someone who perfectly fit the description of Varick Lucas. They were kind enough to give him a lift and he’d rewarded them by assaulting the driver, taking their car, and dumping them on the side of the highway. And now, a body was found along the same highway, a little further east.
Brewer dropped his notes onto the passenger seat, hung up the radio, pulled the shifter into drive, and spun onto the road. This was no coincidence. That body was more evidence of the work of that scumbag, Varick Lucas.
First responders had already secured the area, a forensic team at work when Brewer arrived on the scene. Four cruisers had pulled to the side of the road, red and blue lights flashing. A forensic van sat with its doors open, police milling about, unloading equipment. A cop was setting up orange cones by the side of the highway.
The sun was sinking low in the western sky and remote area lighting was set up in the immediate vicinity. The darkness would arrive before they were done here.
Brewer climbed down into the ditch, approached the investigator in charge, and offered his hand. “Sergeant Lance Brewer. RCMP.”
The towering young investigator shook his hand and looked at him quizzically. “Inspector Bruce Sheldrick. Why’re you guys involved in this?”
“I believe this is the work of Varick Lucas.”
The other cop whistled. “The escapee?”
“Believe so. Our inspectors are on their way and we’ll be conducting a joint operation with local law enforcement.”
“Always happy to work with you guys, but there’s not a lot to go on here.”
Brewer glanced at the body. “Who’s the vic?”
“No ID on the victim,” Sheldrick said.
“No wallet? Credit cards?”
“Nothing.”
“What about the witness? The guy who found the body?”
Sheldrick shrugged. “The guy who called it in didn’t stick around. Didn’t give his name to the operator.”
“We’ll find him,” Brewer said. “It could’ve been Lucas himself called it in.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Dunno. But if he killed this guy and stole his car, why dump him here? Why not leave the body where the deed was done?”
Sheldrick looked confused. Finally, he said. “He wanted to make sure the body was found.”
Brewer nodded. “Makes sense to me.”
“But why would he care?”
“That’s the question. Why?” Brewer said, and approached the body. “Maybe he can tell us.” He crouched down and looked at the now whitened face. Blood had flowed from wounds inflicted to the top and left side of the head, now dried and turned a brownish hue. There was evidence of defensive wounds to the arms and chest. His mouth and jaw was banged up and the left jaw possibly dislocated, a real mess. “Maybe he can tell us,” Brewer repeated as he straightened up and turned back to face Sheldrick.
The young cop looked bewildered but nodded as if he understood, and then asked, “How can you be sure it was Lucas?”
Brewer observed the young cop, still green. He had a lot to learn. “Just my gut, son. It never leads me wrong.” He waved toward the body. “Make sure they don’t move him until we’re done. Our first priority is to find out who he is, and then put a BOLO out on his car.”
Brewer crossed his arms and stared up the highway. It looked like Lucas was heading east. The roadblocks that were set up earlier had netted nothing. Investigators would try to find out who the victim was as soon as possible; they had no choice but to do their job.
Brewer wasn’t convinced that knowledge would give him anything. Lucas had probably killed this guy and stolen his car. He was changing cars all the time, and he had to be stopped.
CHAPTER 15
Thursday, 8:42 PM
VARICK LUCAS dropped down onto the bunk, leaned against the wall of the cabin, and stared across the small room. His former friend was cooking up something on a small wood stove they had lugged up here many years ago.
His eyes wandered around the room. The cabin was dirty. The wooden floor probably hadn’t seen a broom in years. Spiders had spun their webs in the rafters and the entire place smelled of human sweat. There was no excuse for that, and that would change. Varick didn’t like living in a pigsty.
Otis glanced over. “Want some bread with your beans, Varick?”
“Beans? Canned beans? Is that all you got here? No real food? Don’t you have any meat?”
“I like beans,” Otis said. “Sometimes I catch a rabbit, maybe the odd fish, or a duck, but I don’t have a fridge here, Varick. How am I supposed to keep stuff fresh in the summer? Winter time I can freeze it, but right now … it’s beans and bread.”
That was going to change too. Varick had no desire to eat beans every day. Steak. Now that’s food. A moose or a deer would last him a long time. If he was going to stay here awhile he was going to be comfortable. And comfortable meant this small cabin only had room for one. Otis had to go.
Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series Page 5
