Part 29 (1/2)

Chapter Forty-nine.

”Do you think you'll remember where the tree is?” Mary asked, as she and Ian drove from Freeport to Lake-Le-Aqua-Na on Sunday morning.

”Aye, I'll remember,” he said. ”I've done a bit of backpacking, so I know how to mark a trail and get back to a place.”

”I bet that's handy in the Scottish Highlands,” Mary said.

”Well, it's handier when you're tracking...,” he paused, ”let's just say, unusual creatures, and need to remember where you've been and how you got there.”

They pulled into the front entrance of the park and took the lake road to the left. The parking lot next to the Sweet Gum Trail already had a Stephenson County Sheriff's vehicle parked in it. Ian pulled in next to them and both he and Mary got out of the car.

”Hope you haven't been waiting long,” Mary said, as the two men got out of the car to greet them.

”No, ma'am, we just got here,” said the first deputy. ”My name's Dave Thorne and my partner is Nate Graham. Alex Boettcher called us on Friday and asked if we'd do this.”

”Well, that was nice of you, both of you,” Mary said, shaking their hands. ”I'm Mary O'Reilly and this is Ian MacDougal.”

”Pleasure to meet you,” Ian said.

”We were told that you could show us the place where there might be additional evidence,” Nate said.

Ian nodded. ”Aye, it's just a short walk from here,” he said. ”It's in a tree hollow that's grown over a wee bit. We brought a shovel, in case we needed to chip away some of the bark.”

They hiked across the muddy ground towards the lake.

”Alex didn't tell us much about the case,” Dave said. ”What are we looking for?”

”The case is actually about twenty years old,” Mary said, holding on to small trees trunks as she made her way down the slick path. ”Six boys were murdered in the Lena area. Five of their bodies were buried in a shallow grave in town. The sixth body was thrown in the lake.”

”We've just recently found the sixth body,” Ian added, leading them to the lake. ”This sixth body and the timing of his disappearance clears the man who was originally convicted of this crime.”

Nate whistled. ”Twenty years in prison for a crime you didn't commit,” he said. ”What the h.e.l.l happened?”

”A really good set-up,” Mary said.

”So, what are we trying to find today?” Dave asked.

”One of the boys who was found in the shallow grave was on his way to the lake on the day he was murdered,” Mary said. ”The police a.s.sumed he never made it to the lake. They thought the man convicted picked him up in his car and drove him back to his home.”

”The place they found the shallow grave,” Dave inserted.

”Exactly,” Mary said. ”We've determined that his backpack was hidden in a tree, a hiding place the boys used to use. If we can find the backpack, somewhat intact after twenty years, we can prove Timmy made it to the lake and this is where the crime occurred.”

A moment later they were at the tree. Dave used the shovel to lift some of the bark away from the hollow in the tree and Nate shone his flashlight into the hole. ”Looks like we have a winner,” he said.

He pulled out a large plastic evidence bag and slipped on latex gloves. ”Okay, Dave, you hold the bag and I'll retrieve the backpack,” he said.

”Good,” Dave quipped, ”because I sure don't want to fight any momma squirrel over her winter bedding.”

Nate stepped back. ”You think there's a squirrel down there?”

”We've probably made enough noise with the shovel to make her run away,” Mary said.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nate started to insert his arm into the tree.

”Unless she feels like she's cornered and ready to attack,” Dave said calmly.

Mary bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

”Do your squirrels carry rabies here?” Ian asked casually.

Dave grinned. ”Only the ones that hide in trees near lakes.”

Nate pulled his arm out and retrieved his flashlight. He meticulously shone it across every interior section of the tree. Then he turned to Dave. ”No squirrels,” he said.

Shrugging, Dave adjusted the bag, as Nate stuck his arm back into the tree. ”Well, of course not,” Dave agreed, ”The hornet's nest scared them off.”

Chuckling when Nate flinched, Dave relented. ”Naw, those hornets are still hibernating. No worries.”

At long last, Nate retrieved the rotted remnants of the backpack. Holes had been chewed through the material, but the plastic laminated tag was still clear and legible. ”Timmy Beck.”

”Guess you got yourself a good piece of evidence,” Nate said. ”We'll deliver it to Alex's office.”

”Thanks,” Mary said. ”You were both very helpful.”

”No problem,” Dave said. ”So, do you know who the real killer is?”

Chapter Fifty.

His bedroom hadn't really changed from since he'd graduated high school, Mike decided as he floated around the room. Except, it was clean, he thought with a wry smile. Mom must dust in here twice a week.

He walked over to the shelf that held his awards. Everything from Pinewood Derby winner to fourth place in a local pie eating contest was displayed as if they were Medals of Honor. She even framed some articles from the local paper of him fighting fires. Sometimes you don't know how much you're loved until your dead, the errant thought flashed through his mind, but he shook his head. That's a bunch of c.r.a.p; I knew mom loved me every day of my life.

The bedroom door opened and startled him. He turned to see his mom, dressed in her favorite flannel robe, coming into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. ”Mike, a friend of yours came to see us today,” she said, and it took Mike a moment to realize she wasn't talking to him; she was talking to his memory. ”His name was...oh, something Scottish. Colin...Evan...no, it was Ian, that's it, it was Ian. He said he met you at Boy Scout Camp, but he wasn't the young man who had...how did you put it...awesome projectile capabilities.”

She smiled at the shelf. ”He seemed very nice,” she said. ”Although he seemed to upset your father when he mentioned that time when all of your friends were murdered. I remember how much that upset your father back then. He just wasn't himself for the longest time. I'm sure it was because he must have imagined it could have been you. That's what kept going through my mind.”

”Mom, do you think dad could have done it?” he asked.