Murder at Lost Dog Lake (26 page)

“
I have to tell the police what happened. You did kill a man,
you know.”

“
He ruined my life.”

“
I know that. And I know that you only tried to talk to him.
That you killed him by mistake when he laughed at you. You’re
looking at a couple of years at most. You tell a jury about your
mother and what happened to your family and they’ll be eating out
of your hand.”

Isn’t it
strange how perspective changes everything? When I was a cop the
worst thing that could happen to us was a lying scumbag getting off
light because some bleeding-heart judge swallowed his story of the
deprived and brutalized childhood. This time it was what I
desperately wanted.

“
A couple of years in prison. Not going to take the chance.”
He continued paddling with long, steady strokes. The boat moved
thought the water with the grace it had been created for. I loped
steadily alongside. A boulder rushed up to block the path and I
sailed over it like a ballerina. I didn’t have much time. Craig
could paddle a lot further than I could run.

“
So you get away,” I shouted. “Then what? You can’t live in
this park forever you know. You wouldn’t last the winter. To do
that you would need to kill a moose, at the very least, and you
don’t have a gun. So what other choice do you have? Are you going
to paddle to South America?”

“
If I have to.”

I was
running short of breath. The path was closing in around me -
bramble and branches reaching out to grab my shorts and scratch at
my arms and legs. Either the track or I would run out soon, and
Craig would have nothing but clear going in front of him. But not
for long. Algonquin Park was not exactly the end of the
world.

I jumped
another rock. End of the trail. I crashed through the woods,
pushing branches and vines out of my way as I ran.

Finally
I could go no further. The trees surrounded me and presented an
impassable barrier of green and brown. Heart and lungs heaving, I
gathered my last bit of strength.

“
For God’s sake, Craig,” I screamed in all my fury. “Stop and
think. You are in Algonquin Park. It’s the 21st century, not the
Old West. There is nowhere to go. There is no wilderness out there.
You can’t paddle to South America. You wouldn’t get more than a
couple of kilometers out of the park, at most. Every police force
in North America will be on the alert. Dianne and Joe have probably
reached the Park Rangers by now, they’ll all be looking for
you.”

I gasped
for breath and tried to force out the words at the same time. I
pushed aside a stitch in my side and continued to yell. “Come back
with me, and give yourself up, and it will all be so much
better.”

Craig’s
steady strokes slowed down and eventually he stopped paddling. The
canoe drifted gently to a stop. There were no waves to hamper the
craft, so it simply sat in the lake, bobbing gently on the blue
water.

I pushed
through a thicket of brambles and stood on the rocks overhanging
the water. He was no more than five yards out, watching me
thoughtfully.

I sunk
to my haunches, took a deep breath and chose every word with care.
“Two years, maybe three. With a good lawyer, maybe not even that.
But don’t run. They don’t like that.”

“
You know me, Leanne. What do you think a few years in
Kingston Pen would do to me? I need the woods, the wilderness, and
the lakes. A man like me would die caged up like some sort of
circus animal.”

What
does it do to anyone, I thought, being locked up? Whether you lived
your life among the trees and the lakes or the cheap bars and the
aging strippers, jail just isn’t meant to be a pleasant
place.

“
Come on, Craig.” I held one hand out. “Let’s go back and get
the others. Rachel and Barb really need someone to take them back
to camp. And you do have the last canoe, you know.”

“
Oh, I know.” He sat quietly in his yellow canoe, paddle laid
neatly across his lap. “I wouldn’t want any of the rest of you to
come to any harm, you know that, don’t you?”

“
Of course I know that. And it will go well in court that you
cared for the rest of us. I’ll tell them, I’ll testify for
you.”

“
No, Leanne. I’m not going to go to court. Good-bye. I was
hoping we could get together, have some fun, you and me. But I
guess not.” He lifted one hand to his mouth, kissed the tips of his
fingers and held them out to me. Then with one powerful stroke he
turned the bow of the canoe out to the open water and pulled away
from the shore

Heart
full of dread, I watched him go. The story of his father, lacking
the courage to face the consequences of his actions, leaving his
broken family behind him to pay the penalty, resonated around and
around inside my head, and I stood, locked in place, watching the
canoe move ever so gracefully out to the middle of the lake. A
family of common mergansers, the children almost full grown, sailed
stately by. They didn’t spare Craig a glance but he watched them
for several minutes as they swam on.

He
didn’t even turn for one last look at the shoreline before he
slipped over the gunnels of the small craft, creating hardly a
ripple, and set out for the middle of the lake with steady,
confident strokes.

Unnoticed, until much, much later, the tears fell down my
cheeks. I watched the wake as he moved through the water. He
traveled a long way, until the steady strokes began to falter and
eventually fade altogether. The lake, soft and blue and gentle,
absorbed the rippling waves and settled back into itself as if
nothing of consequence had passed.

And to
the lake, and the forest around it, nothing had.

Chapter 22

Day 11: Midday.

The
little plane had noticed us, after all. By the time I staggered
back to camp, a seaplane was landing off shore. Rachel leapt up and
down in great excitement, waving a scarf wildly overhead. Barb and
Jeremy waded out to greet our rescuers with enthusiasm.

The
first ranger out of the seaplane was much taken with Barb’s English
accent, and poor old Jeremy faced a fight once again.

I stood
off to one side watching as the two men struggled up to shore,
pushing aside the crowd, small as it was, of admirers. One of them
was older, face cragged by the ravages of weather, probably close
to retirement yet not wanting to leave the park; the other younger,
much younger, deeply tanned and sun-streaked blond, well-muscled
and totally dedicated to his duty. Barb sighed in
appreciation.

At my
suggestion the Rangers took their plane out over the lake and
traveled in lazy patterns, back and forth across the wide strait.
They found nothing but an abandoned yellow canoe. The plane settled
back on the water’s surface and the younger man returned with the
canoe while the older coasted the seaplane back to shore. I said
little to Barb, Jeremy and Rachel. Only that there had been an
accident and Craig would not be returning to the lodge with us.
They were, of course, dying to know more, but they had enough sense
to read my face and know that their questions were not welcome.
Jeremy patted my shoulder ineffectively and tried to smile
encouragingly at me. Rachel hugged me tightly and whispered that
everything would soon be all right. I relaxed under their attention
and almost broke down; it felt so good to be held by someone,
anyone. But fortunately for my dignity, I remembered myself in time
and pushed Rachel away muttering meaningless words along the line
of “I’m all right”.

Dianne
and Joe must have reached someone with a radio; the rangers were
expecting to find a situation out of the ordinary. They walked up
to the solitary rock with practiced nonchalance and resolute
professionalism. I told them, in the briefest of statements,
something of what had happened. They asked few questions but the
younger man returned to the radio in his plane to request a police
diving team to search for Craig’s body while the older remained
with the lonely tent on the rock.

Chapter 23

Day 11: Late Evening.

Arms
laden with bread, milk, and cheese scooped up at the corner store,
a week’s worth of mail, my suitcase and the newspaper, I struggled
to fit my key into the lock. For some unknown reason the door swung
open first time and I stumbled gratefully into the embrace of my
home.

Dark and
quiet, smelling as if no one lived here, it didn’t offer much in
the way of a greeting. Dropping my load in a heap on the
entranceway tiles, I stumbled down the hall and into my bedroom.
With great joy I cast off the still slightly damp sweatshirt and
shorts and ripped off my ripening underwear.

I stood
under the steaming shower for a long time letting the warmth of the
water seep right through into my bones.

Stepping
gingerly out of the tub, I dried myself in a thick, thirsty white
towel, exactly as I had imagined I would on that first day of the
storm. I wrapped my appreciative body in a terrycloth robe and
twisted what little there was of wet hair up into a turban on top
of my head.

I had
settled into the couch with the much-abandoned Victorian mystery
and a cup of cheerful steaming hot chocolate when the cheerful peal
of the doorbell had me grumbling back to my feet.

My
business partner, Wayne, filled the tiny entranceway clutching a
huge bouquet of flowers under one hairy arm (a bouquet that
appeared to have been picked surreptitiously from someone’s
carefully cultivated garden), and a bottle of lovely Australian
Shiraz under the other.

“
Heard you had a bit of a rough time up in the wild-wild
north.” He smiled.

No one
would mistake Wayne for a handsome man, with his nose broken more
times than probably even he could remember, balding in unkempt
patches, nose and stomach living remembrances of numerous visits to
the bars and the donut shops. But he was a welcome sight to
me.

I
stepped forward to greet him with delight and started to gather him
into my arms and my home. He was my best friend, as well as my
partner, and he had seen me through a lot of tough
times.

But they
couldn’t contain their giggles and I caught glimpses of Blue Jay
sweatshirts, high-top running shoes, baseball caps, and scruffy
jeans behind his bulk and my two sons peeked out from behind the
hedge facing the road.

I
screamed with joy.

They ran
towards me in a flurry of arms and legs and delight. I swear they
had doubled in height since the last time I saw them.

I
gathered them both close and hugged them so tightly I finally had
to let go because I was afraid that I would squeeze the life out of
them. I ushered everyone into the house. Wayne went into the
kitchen in search of a corkscrew. Brian jumped up and down on the
sofa; never had he met a spring that was his match.

“
Can we get pizza?” Thomas asked.

“
We sure can, buddy,” Wayne said, coming back out of the
kitchen, bottle and two brimming glasses in hand. “With anything
and everything you want on it.”

I took
the offered glass and drank deep. “How on earth did you manage?” I
asked nodding toward the boys, now arguing furiously over the
merits of pepperoni and extra cheese, verses sausage AND
ham.

“
Nothing like the exaggerated reports of one’s premature death
to make your long lost love wallow in fond remembrance of the
dearly departed.” He grinned, displaying cracked and discolored
teeth. The perfect accompaniment to the broken nose. He looked
tough, but looks could be deceiving. Wayne’s parents had both been
University English Professors. He actually spoke like that all the
time.

Ignoring
the glass, he took a swig straight from the bottle.

“
I got the call that your group failed to return to the
starting point when expected and outlining the severity of the
storm. So I called your beloved ex, myself.”

I
snorted. Fortunately the boys didn’t hear.

“
He fairly chewed himself raw with worry while you were
missing, you know.”

I took
another sip of the wine. Delicious. And snorted once again. “I’m
sure he was totally overcome.”

“
Believe it or not, I think he was. He called me back right
away. First we heard that your group was lost in the storm, then we
got the extremely promising news that there had been a death, but
no one was saying who had died.” He coughed and without asking
permission (which would have been denied) lit up a
cigarette.

“
Then you got into your car and drove back to the city without
even waiting for someone to come and get you. So I suggested that
maybe as you had returned from the dead, it would do you some good
to have the boys here waiting for you when you got home.
Unfortunately we were a bit delayed.”

I
couldn’t speak; something was lodged in my throat. Instead I took
another swallow.

Brian
nuzzled up to me, and rubbed his spiked hair into my arm. “Mom, can
we have sausage on the pizza? Please, please.”