DEATH AT DECEPTION BAY

  Welcome to Lake Pines.

  A fictional small town in Northwestern Ontario that is home to both year-round residents and summer cottagers. Hidden secrets, private lives, and tension lay the groundwork for treacherous crimes. But there are more than secrets buried in this small town.

  Order of Books in this series:

  LAKE PINES MURDER MYSTERY SERIES

  Murder At First Light

  Death At Deception Bay

  Murder Of Crows

  The Dead Of Winter

  The Night Is Darkest

  Conspiracy of Blood

  Deadly Past

  Echoes of Guilt

  DEATH AT DECEPTION BAY

  A gripping Lake Pines Mystery

  Death At Deception Bay Copyright © 2020 by L.L. Abbott.

  All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Warren Design

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  L.L. Abbott

  Visit my website at www.LLAbbott.com

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-989325-08-7

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-989325-09-4

  Large Print ISBN: 978-1-989325-29-2

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-989325-30-8

  FOR MY BOYS

  Table of Contents

  DEATH AT DECEPTION BAY

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  DEATH AT DECEPTION BAY

  When I let go of what I am. I become what I might be.

  unknown AUTHOR

  1

  October 28, 2015

  The air in the room had grown stale, and she squinted against the darkness. Lia couldn’t tell how many hours had passed since her attacker grabbed her. Her time spent living on the street, sometimes while high, taught her how to gauge time without a watch or daylight, and she was sure it was close to four days.

  She patted the tender spot on her head and felt the dried blood that matted her hair. The heat from the cut behind her ear was a sure sign of an infection and she knew from her three years in the nursing program that it meant she’d need several stitches. The swelling around her wound prevented her skin from healing and she could feel the dampness ooze from the gash. She was losing hope that anyone heard her cries for help on the morning she was grabbed. It was a little before six a.m. and still dark enough to feel like it was the middle of the night, and she had thought was the perfect time to squeeze in a quick run before going to the hospital. The tip of the moon was visible over the line of trees, and the crispness in the air was invigorating.

  There was no warning of the attack, nor did Lia see her assailant coming. Lia was half a mile from where she started her run when a sharp blow hit her head from behind. There was no mugging, nor any threat of robbery from her attacker. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember him speaking at all. Anyone could have seen she was in her running gear and, at most, would get her four-year-old portable music device. And if it was the electronics her assailant was after, the extended baseball bat was a tad extreme. Plus, it was still attached to her jacket, and only her earphones were missing.

  Lia had stopped digging and clawing at the wooden door, even though it was her only way out of the dark, damp enclosure. Not that she gave up trying to escape but because her fingers had grown raw and cut by her constant ripping at the cold, hard wood. She could feel the uneven edges where her nails snapped back and the nail on the middle finger of her right hand peeled back over the tip of her finger, leaving her fragile skin exposed. Splinters lodged under the tips of her fingers, making it too painful to touch. Lia even resorted to using her hair clip as a tool to remove pieces of the wooden door hoping to carve a hole to the outside, but it had snapped within ten minutes of scrapping against the solid wooden door, and she knew it would be useless.

  Lia shivered uncontrollably as she lay curled on the dirt floor, trying her best to stay alive. Her only sign of whether it was night or day, was the small sliver of space between the bottom of the door and the ground that gave way to the traces of light that leaked through. A damp musty scent rose from the ground, and as each evening grew cooler, so did the floor inside her isolated imprisonment. During the first few nights, the chill lay on the surface of the stone walls, but after a while the chilly dampness surrounded her, rooting itself through her body, seeming to pull her deep into the ground. Every night she fought the desire to escape her reality and fall into a deep sleep, worried it would be impossible to awaken from.

  She had to stay alert.

  It was cooler than normal this fall, and October had seen the beginnings of an early snowfall and Lia wondered just how cold it could get in Lake Pines. She had arrived a week earlier and had planned to move here and begin her nursing career at the Lake Pines Hospital. And if her personal life worked out, then it would even be better. But now all that mattered was escaping from this hell she was living in and getting back to Noah.

  Dried blood formed patches on her skin, but she could feel a slow trickle ooze from a few cuts. It was a small sign she was alive and had a chance of surviving if she could make it out of this enclosure and away from the monster that grabbed her. Lia hung onto that hope as she fought against the pain that rose in her body. The one consolation she had was knowing the fierceness at which she fought back against her attacker and how she had removed a chunk of skin from his neck which was left exposed by the small balaclava he wore. It was his scream she remembered hearing before she blacked out, along with the faint scent of patchouli.

  She could still feel the bruises where the rocky shoal surface rubbed and tore at her legs as she fought against his grip. Painful stabs along her back pulled her from unconsciousness, when he dragged her across the hard, cold ground and past a large clump of trees, and into the shed where she now lay. That must have been at least three days ago. Maybe more.

  The air was hauntingly still and saturated with an unsettling smell. Each breath reminded Lia of the abandoned warehouse she had called home during her two years on the street. It was a stench that you could taste and feel in the pit of your stomach. Those were memories that Lia worked hard to suppress, and they came flooding back with the pervasive scent and had a way of reclaiming the painful recollections.

  The muffled sound of singing birds was the only break in the silence that surrounded her enclosure. She didn’t know where she was, but she knew it wasn’t anywhere that anyone could hear her screams. Lia ran her shaky hand across the surface of the smoothed down stone walls, faintly able to make out an outline of the large rocks at the base. She huddled her body in a corner of the shed, preserving the negligible amount of heat her body still possessed. She crawled over the bare ground, leaving the support of the stone wall, until she reached the wooden door. The distance was short and coated with small rocks. Painful bruises formed on her knees and palms from when she crawled along the ground, assessing the size of her enclosure. Lia knew she must be in an outer building and judging by the restricted space and smell, she thought it was a storage shed.

  She spent many hours with her ears pressed against the space along the bottom of the door, hoping for some sound from the outside that could help her determine her location. Not that she could get a message to anyone, she just wanted to know where she was being held and was fighting for her life.

  Lia’s tears had long since dried and her clothes grew stiff from the mix of the damp ground and her body giving way to the loss of control when she could no longer restrain her bodily functions. She shivered as she drifted in and out of consciousness, trying to hold on to the memory and scent that meant the most to her. When she awoke and kissed Noah good morning, she remembered thinking how perfect her life had seemed as they planned their future together. It took hard work to set things right over the last few years and had made a break from her pattern of poor choices and bad friends. Lia was starting a new life, and now she had someone else to think about. She had a job and a future, and she was trying to do what was right.

  She pulled her light blue cotton t-shirt from beneath her running jacket and buried her nose into the material. She inhaled the aroma of soft roses and powder, just like she had done many times over the last few days. It was the one thing that was keeping her focused, and the scent was fading.

  She closed her eyes and felt herself slipping into blackness when she heard the snap of the bolt on the outside of the large wooden door, and then it released from the cement frame, bringing with it a blast of the cool night air.

  The shadows from the trees outside shaded the entrance to the shed, and along with it, the man who attacked her.

  He had returned and still wore the balaclava over his head, shielding his face from his victim and muting the sound of his voice. He came when the night outside was dark and there was little chance of being seen. Lia had tried to make a run for the door the first few times, attempting to catch him off guard. She stopped trying to escape after being kicked in the midsection so hard she felt a rib crack from under the force of his boot. Lia knew even if she managed to make it past him, she no longer had the strength to outrun him. He favored his right arm under the strain on his shoulder and held it close to his side.

  He again offered her a choice. One that could see her free to return to her life, if she would stay quiet about what she knew. He threatened to kill her if she didn’t agree. But she couldn’t. Not after what she had been through. She had seen enough during her time on the streets that she knew he probably wouldn’t let her go, anyway. He would be back again with more threats, and the next time it would even be worse. She just needed to buy some time and hopefully, before too long, someone would find her.

  However, Lia misjudged her attacker’s level of patience and he was no longer willing to wait to change her mind.

  Her attacker lifted the balaclava and peeled it away from his face. Even in the dark shed, she could distinguish his features.

  Lia looked up and for the first time saw the face of her attacker. She gasped as she lay curled in the corner of the damp cell and cringed as she realized the frightful comprehension of who had attacked her. It was clear now what her assailant wanted. She yelled in protest and finally agreed to his demands, but he shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “It’s too late. I can’t trust you.”

  She slowly lifted her head and pulled her body up to a level where she could rest a little higher against the wall. She took a deep breath and for the first time in three days spoke without tears.

  “Why?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer. He stood over her and coldly stared down at the person he would have done anything to protect. Now she was the one person who stood in the way of his success. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a buck knife. It was the one his father gave him when he was a child and had taken him hunting on his annual fall trips.

  “No, please don’t,” Lia begged.

  She wasn’t thinking of her wound or the bruises and the cuts that his brutal beating had produced. Lia didn’t care if her skin was scarred, or her bones were broken. Her only thoughts were of Noah and how she needed to protect him.

  Then all at once, she was consumed by a wave of pain followed by a deep searing heat and became lost in deeper darkness, this one from which she would never return.

  2

  March 6, 2016

  The words from their fight the night before echoed loudly in Kerry’s head as she ran along the main road that stretched through the middle of town. The heavy snow from the winter hadn’t melted, and the sidewalks had a slippery sheen, and she didn’t want to risk falling a second time during her morning run. She learned the hard way the first spring she moved to Lake Pines that living in a town near a large lake meant that damp cold evenings were a reality until late in June, and she adjusted her clothing and footwear accordingly.

  Over the winter, Kerry’s old boss from Montreal had been trying to convince her to return to Quebec and head up the coroner’s office upon his planned retirement. For the last six months, Doctor Jean Lamont had been calling Kerry with numerous offers hoping to entice her to leave her small practice in Lake Pines and return to Montreal. At first, Kerry laughed at the idea. She had built a quiet, but fulfilling, life in Lake Pines. And even though the cases were not as intense as the ones that she worked on in Montreal, she felt she was able to help families find closure. She had a personal connection with them.

  Like most small towns, blurred lines separated the duties between the police investigators and coroner. It was a necessity in Lake Pines which worked under a restrained budget but it also permitted staff to explore other job skills and built a cohesive work environment where things got done. The Province’s Minister even went so far as to acknowledge Lake Pines’ ability to cover more cases than other small towns their size. And they were often able to do so while staying under budget.

  When Kerry took the job as coroner in Lake Pines, she worked closely with Constable Peter George, and together they made a great team. They understood each other’s work habits and always held the respect of the victims and their families above their own career goals, and they were able to build a close friendship over the years. However, Kerry was losing interest in her job as coroner in Lake Pines. The small Northwestern Ontario town had lost a fair number of people over the years because of the dwindling economy. Each season another store would shutter their doors and owners who had run successful establishments in Lake Pines decided to close their businesses and retire to their cottage homes, leaving chunks of the small downtown abandoned.

  The tight economy even hit the Lake Pines Coroner’s Office with cutbacks to her staffing budget. Kerry found the territory she was responsible for had increased even though the support and budget for her office had not. However, it was when Peter moved that Kerry felt a real shift in her career. She had difficulty relating to the policing and management styles of Peter’s replacement, Wayne Burgess. He didn’t hold Kerry’s skill and intuition with the same high regard that Peter did, and more and more Kerry was feeling pushed out of the interesting facets of cases. What frustrated her the most, was that she was still left to answer for the frequent mistakes he made during investigations.

  Kerry had also unexpectedly found love in Lake Pines, and for a couple of years, she had been dating Simon Phillips. Simon was a fishing guide from May to October and during the remainder of the year, he ran a winter resort on an island in Deception Bay. Kerry first met Simon at Fox Lodge where Simon was working. The stop on the way to Vancouver was supposed to be a time to rest and rejuvenate while catching up on some much-neglected reading. The day Kerry checked into Fox Lodge a storm had rolled into Northwestern Ontario and cut off all access roads and made the ice road to the lodge inaccessible. Instead of being able to sequester herself by the fireplace in her room, she was huddling in the main room with the two other guests while Simon worked to keep the lodge warm - and the guests fed.

  In place of devouring the pile of books she packed, Kerry found herself absorbed in Simon’s stories and devouring the wine from the private reserve stock which Simon insisted the owner would want them to enjoy. By the time the roads were cleared, and the storm had passed, Kerry and Simon had realized that they had a lot in common, and she extended her stay. Now, as she was running through the middle of town, Kerry was replaying the argument she and Simon had the night before when she mentioned she was upset about all his side trips out to the cabin over the winter. Simon felt like he had been hit from left field and even accused Kerry of not trusting him. Distrust never existed between them, however, not long after moving in together, Simon spent many weekends away from her at his cabin. Kerry was concerned that the trips were becoming more frequent and that she and Simon were growing apart.

  Simon accused her of pushing him away by not trusting him. When in reality, Kerry was hoping their honesty would bring them closer together. Simon explained to Kerry that the trips were important to him because they were a reminder of a time when he and his father shared hunting trips. Every fall they would set out on their annual father-son trip and establish the bond that would last the rest of their lives. Now that his father was gone, it was the one place he felt close to him and he begged her to understand that.

  Kerry understood the importance of keeping a memory of Simon’s father alive, but what she didn’t understand is why most weekends since last fall needed to be spent with Wayne. She was feeling more like an outsider in Simon’s life, and with the added difficulty of the restrictions in her job, she was feeling more unhappy every day. The right moment never presented itself, when she felt comfortable mentioning Jean’s job offer to Simon. If she was going to decide to move, it would have to be for her own reasons. And she just had to hope that Simon would admit that he wanted to continue their relationship no matter where they lived.

 

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