Murder in the Mist (17 page)

“A broken neck?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Okay, our victim decides to take a moonlight swim in the buff. She dives off one of the cliffs, hits her head, snaps her neck.”

Musuyo studied the back of the victim’s shoulders, along the spine and buttocks. “Bruising at the base of the spine above the waistline, and on both buttocks. These may or may not be consistent with diving off a cliff or being slammed against rocks. She would have had to land in a sitting position, which does not explain a possible broken neck.”

“How long do you think she’s been in the water?”

Musuyo glanced up at Laura and instructed her to get close-ups of the eyes, nose, and lips. “The time it takes for a body to decompose in water varies depending on temperature. In cold water, it will take longer for the body to decompose because the body will fill with gas. However, there are no signs of bacterial growth, and there are minor signs of feeding from crabs and small fish around the eyes and lips. Thankfully, the sharks didn’t get to her.”

Laura gasped. “Sharks feed on dead bodies?”

Musuyo smiled up Laura. “Sharks, like any predator, are opportunistic feeders, and they’ll take advantage of any resource that’s given to them.”

He redirected his attention to Mitch. “Again, without an autopsy, my best guess is death occurred approximately forty-eight to seventy-two hours ago.” He sighed. “I’ve done all I can do on location. Okay to release the body so I can take it to the lab?”

Mitch nodded. He looked at Ranger Cole. “Any idea who she is?”

Cole shrugged his shoulders. “With all the visitors who pass through, it’s impossible to recall faces. Most of the time, I’m not in direct contact with the people.”

His walkie-talkie squawked. He lifted it from the case at his waist. “Cole. Go ahead.” He listened. “Do whatever is necessary to hold them there, Ranger Dorsey. Don’t let them out of your sight. We’re on our way.” He turned to the deputy. “Mitch, that was Jane. Some campers from the Blackwater site are at the office. They’re looking for a friend who disappeared four days ago.”

Mitch’s smile was grim. “Four days? What kind of people wait four days to report a missing friend? This had better be good. Lead the way, Ranger Cole.”

Mitch followed the senior ranger over the rail, while Laura snapped shots of the EMT helping to zip the cadaver inside the body bag. With the help of Ranger Klopper, the two men lifted the cadaver pouch onto the gurney. She photographed the entire process of hoisting the collapsed bed on wheels over the railing and up the stone steps to where the ATV waited, biting back the grunts of exertion as she labored behind the EMT. Dr. Musuyo brought up the rear in case she stumbled.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mitch followed Ranger Dorsey to an office where four people sat close together. Jane Dorsey said, “Excuse me, folks, I’d like you to meet Deputy Sheriff Mitch Carter. Deputy Carter, this is the Yeoman family. In a manner of speaking, they found the body.”

He thanked the ranger and asked if she would stay. He observed the anxious faces—an elderly couple, perhaps in their late seventies, and a younger couple, estimated in the late forties. Cameras around their necks. Sensible walking shoes. The older gentleman’s head bobbled, and his hands trembled as he gripped a metal cane. Mitch surmised the man might suffer from Parkinson’s Disease. That definitely ruled him out as a suspect. These were ordinary people whose happy day had turned into an unexpected nightmare.

He pointed to Laura. “I’d like you to meet Laura Friday. She runs the
Harbor Gazette
and would like to take a photo of you.”

She smiled as she stepped forward, clicked a couple of times, then stepped into the background to take a seat. “For the record, where are you staying?”

The older man said, “At the Lighthouse B&B.”

Mitch pulled two chairs closer and sat down. He placed a small tape recorder on the other chair. “I appreciate you folks waiting patiently. If you don’t mind, I’d like to record this session. It will save you a trip to my office. I imagine this has been a trying experience and you’d like to return to the B&B so you can relax.”

All four of the people nodded. The younger Mr. Yeoman said, “Thanks, Deputy. You can count on our cooperation.”

Mitch pushed the Record button and looked at the older man. “Beginning with you, sir, then going down the line, please state your full name, address, and relationship to each other.”

“Richard Yeoman, Senior, 2453 Lone Pond Road, Island Pond, Vermont. This is my wife, Alaina.”

The man’s son and daughter-in-law gave their information.

“Were you at the scene together?”

All nodded, and Mitch reminded them to speak their answers into the recorder.

“I need one person to relate what you saw at the observation deck, and the approximate time.”

The father looked at his son. “I don’t think I have the heart to speak of this dreadful thing, and your poor mama is too upset.”

The son scooted to the edge of his seat. He cleared his throat as he patted his father on the shoulder. “We, the four of us, arrived at the Thunder Hole observation point about ten a.m. There were probably six other people there. About a half hour later, they left because the hole hadn’t erupted. We decided to wait another few minutes. I remember looking at my watch just as I heard the loud clap, like thunder. It was exactly ten forty-five. We didn’t expect the large gush of water. It was like a tidal wave rushing over us. We were laughing with excitement, and then we laughed harder, and we were all pointing. At first we thought it was a joke, that someone had thrown a mannequin, you know, like one of those store mannequins, down the hole, as a sick prank to scare the tourists when it spewed out. We all rushed to the other side of the railing to see where it would land.

“After the geyser stopped flowing and the water receded, I climbed over the railing. My plan was to get the thing and take it to the ranger’s shack so it wouldn’t get washed out to sea.”

At this point he lowered his face into his hands and shuddered. Mitch gave the man time to collect himself.

“Only…it wasn’t a doll. And we were laughing.”

Alaina Yeoman spoke in a reverent voice. “She was just lying there. I told my son to remove his jacket and cover her up. It seemed indecent to leave her exposed to the world.”

The son said, “I’m a college professor. I teach math. I don’t know about forensics, but from watching cop shows, I knew not to contaminate the scene. I asked my parents and my wife to stay, in case other tourists showed up, while I ran to get a ranger.”

He spread his hands wide. “That’s it, Deputy. That’s all we can tell you.”

Mitch’s gaze drifted over the pale, haggard faces. “Did you happen to notice anyone out of the ordinary hanging around the area, someone who might have shown an unusual interest in the cadaver?”

A second of silence. It was as if the Yeomans were of one mind when whispering, “No,” as their answer.

Mitch pressed the Off button on the recorder. He stood and extended his hand to both the father and the son. He touched the bill of his cap to acknowledge the ladies. “Thank you for your cooperation. You’re free to go.” He reached into his shirt pocket for a business card. “Before you leave Cole Harbor, I’d appreciate a call…in case I have further questions.”

****

Mitch cricked his lips into a smile. “Ranger Dorsey, lead us to where you’ve contained the three people who wanted to file the missing person report.”

“Mind if I sit in, Mitch?”

“Sure, come along, Friday.”

Laura followed behind Mitch and Jane Dorsey. The ranger pushed through a pair of double doors. “This is the mini-theater. We often show short films about the wildlife native to the park.”

“Ranger Dorsey, ask Dr. Musuyo and the ambulance driver to hang around. I may ask these people to identify the corpse.”

“Yes, sir. Will do.”

Senior Ranger Bryan Cole stepped forward and whispered, “Glad you’re here.” He indicated the three huddled together. “Natives are getting antsy. Claim they’re being held against their will.”

“Hmm, sounds like a guilt trip coming on.” Mitch raised his voice. “Folks, I’m Deputy Sheriff Mitchell Carter. I understand you’re here to file a missing person report.”

A tall man with a scraggly beard and curly brown hair, and wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt and jeans cut off at the knees, said, “Yeah. She went missing four days ago.”

Mitch handed the recorder to Laura with instructions to turn it on.

“Hey, man, you can’t record any of us. We know our rights.”

Mitch and Bryan Cole exchanged glances. The second man in the group said, “Ain’t that an invasion of privacy or somethin’?”

Mitch appeared to mull over the comment. His voice was curt. “Your privacy is only invaded if you’ve committed a crime and are trying to hide it. Would that be the case?”

The woman of the group, her hair slicked back into a pink-and-purple ponytail, reached to scratch a rash on her bare leg. She had an annoying rasp to her voice that sounded as if she needed to clear her throat. “The two of you cut the crap and let the man do his job. Sorry, Deputy. Mutt and Jeff there are really Louis Castle and Joe Manfred. I’m Sybella Dauzat. We’re from Bangor and came to spend a few days primitive camping. We don’t have nothing to hide.”

“Thank you, ma’am. What is your missing friend’s name?”

“Daisy Fuller.”

“What is Ms. Fuller’s age, and would you supply a description of her?”

“Ayuh. Daisy tells everyone she’s twenty-five, but she’s closer to thirty-five. About five foot six, brown eyes, brown hair. Built like a brick shit house.” Sybella placed her hand against her mouth and giggled. “Pardon my French.”

“What’s your relation to Ms. Fuller?”

“None. We’re friends. Both work together as hostesses at the Thirsty Frog.”

Louis Castle sniggered. “Fancy name for a barmaid who scalps drinks and does a little boom-boom business on the side.”

Sybella cut him a mean eye. “Shut your damn hole.”

Mitch interceded. “Settle down. Sparring with each other won’t help us find your friend. You told Ranger Dorsey you hadn’t seen Ms. Fuller in four days. Why did you wait until today to report her missing?”

Joe Manfred said, “You don’t know Daisy. When she gets a notion in her head, there’s no changing her mind.”

“What notion did she get in her head the night she went missing?”

The three friends looked at each other. To Mitch’s mind they wore that “guilty as sin
and
we’re busted” expression.

Sybella said, “Ah, hell, it ain’t no big whoop. We were smoking a little combustible love, and knocking back tequila shooters, and…well…you know…doin’ the nasty boom-boom, if you catch my drift.” She tsked and shot a wink toward Mitch.

“Anyhow, Daisy said she needed some fresh air. We told her it was gonna rain. She said it was okay ’cause she needed a bath anyhow. With all the dopin’ and drinkin’, we were all visiting la-la land. You know…passed out. When the buzz finally wore off and we woke up, she was gone. We went looking for her, and called her cell phone. Didn’t get an answer. Figured it was ’cause there’s no reception up here.”

“When was that, Ms. Dauzat?”

“Day before yesterday. I think. I don’t know. My mind is still…you know, fuzzy.”

“How would you describe Ms. Fuller? Rational? Would she commit suicide?”

Louis Castle chortled. “Suicide, nah! Daisy’s okay when she isn’t messed up. ’Sides, she ain’t afraid of nothing. If she run up on a bear, she’d ball up her fist and challenge it to a fight. She’s got a wicked right jab.” He waggled his jaw as if he’d been hit.

Mitch stared at him sharply. “Uh-huh. Let me get this straight. It wasn’t until today that you got worried about your friend?”

Joe Manfred scratched through his limp purple Mohawk. “Yeah, like, you know, we all have jobs. Vacation over. Time to get back to livin’ real, until the next time.”

Mitch looked at each of the friends. Were they suspects? Did they kill Daisy Fuller and dump her body inside the cavern?

“Did the three of you visit Thunder Hole this morning?”

Louis said, “Nah, man, we spent the morning packing our gear, then taking another look around for Daisy. I’m really pissed at that bitch. We’ll have to leave her and hope she can hitch a ride back to Bangor.”

Mitch glanced at Laura, then to Bryan Cole. “I think we’re about finished here.”

He gave each of Daisy’s friends one of his business cards. “I’d like all of you to accompany me outside.”

Sybella reached down and scratched the rash on her leg again. Mitch noted the redness had spread, and water blisters had formed. “Ms Dauzat, there’s a doctor waiting outside with an ambulance. I’m sure Dr. Musuyo will agree that you’ve been exposed to poison ivy.”

“Oh, shit. Just wait ’til I see Daisy. It’s her fault I went traispin’ around trying to find her. If I have to go to the hospital, she’s gonna foot the bill.”

Louis Castle and Joe Manfred stood. Louis said, “Is that stuff contagious? I can’t afford to lose any days off work.”

Joe stepped away from Sybella. “Yeah, me neither.”

Mitch shot Laura and Bryan an impatient glance. “The three of you are true friends. You’re more concerned about yourselves than what happened to Daisy Fuller. It’s possible we’ve found her, and she’s dead.”

Sybella managed to stop scratching. Her voice rose to a squeaky octave. “What is this, some kind of sick joke? If so, it ain’t funny, and we’re not laughing.”

“I never joke, Ms. Dauzat, especially about murder. Now if all of you will follow me, I’d like one of you to take a look at the body and tell me if it’s Daisy Fuller.”

Outside, Laura acknowledged Mitch’s slight nod. She stood back and focused her camera on the three possible suspects.

Mitch motioned for the EMT to open the ambulance’s rear doors. “Dr. Musuyo, if you’ll open the cadaver bag.”

Mitch waved the three forward. “Which one wants to see if you can identify the body?”

No one volunteered.

“If I have to drag you over, I will.”

Sybella sighed. “What if we all looked together? C’mon, guys. Don’t make me do this by myself.”