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  MURDER AT FIRST LIGHT

  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

  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

  Murder at First Light © 2021 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 brief excerpts in a review.

  Cover design 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

  www.LLAbbott.com

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-989325-59-9

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-989325-60-5

  Large Print ISBN: 978-1-989325-61-2

  For anyone who loves mysteries and who tries to figure out who the real killer is before the ending, this is for you.

  Table of Contents

  MURDER AT FIRST LIGHT

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  “Each person is an enigma.”

  1

  The mist crawled across the surface, clinging to the lake and refusing to release its firm grip on the water. The fog, which was intertwined with the many islands and trees that populated Lake of the Woods, parted only slightly as Velma’s boat sliced a silent path toward Half Moon Bay. She learned as a child how to travel on the lake when she couldn’t count on her vision for navigation and the skill was useful during late-night trips home in storms and driving through dense fog, as she was doing now. Her father taught her to use the sound of the motor as it echoed in the thick stillness, ricocheting off trees and nearby islands, changing its pitch as she drove.

  Many skills were gained over the lifetime of summers Velma spent at the lake. For instance, she was the only girl in her select group of friends who could drain the bottom end of an engine, or that could prime a water pump, and her friends teased her about being an expert when it came to splitting wood with an ax as well. Unfortunately, her father also taught her how to drink when dealing with stressful moments in her life. It wasn’t a direct lesson he taught Velma and her sister Chrissy, but it was in their witnessing their father as he failed to come to terms with his crumbling law practice being absorbed by a larger firm and the turbulent end of his twenty-year marriage that they picked up the habit.

  It wasn’t until Velma had passed out while waiting for her youngest daughter, who was completing her Friday evening lesson at Madame Rocha’s dance school, that she admitted to having a problem. That was almost eight years ago, and she was still working through the recovery steps, loitering for several years at number eight and nine, which involved making amends.

  Chrissy had dragged Velma to her first meeting, and they took the first of many necessary steps toward regaining their sobriety together. Along the way, they also grew closer and learned more about themselves and each other. And Velma, for the first time in her life, felt contented when she looked in the mirror. Her only regret was that her sister wasn’t still alive to see how far she’d come.

  In her sister’s memory, Velma made a solemn promise to make every necessary apology by the end of the summer. Velma knew it wouldn’t be a simple task, and even though she wanted to make those amends without hurting anyone, she could see no way around what she had to do.

  Today would be a day of change, and the early morning sailing regatta would be the venue that would ensure everyone she needed to speak with would be in the same location.

  Awkward confrontations were a necessity if she was going to go through with her plan. She just had to convince herself that it would be worth it in the end.

  Except for her continued connection with Mary, many of her friendships had changed over the years, as they often do for many people. Mary was like a second sister to Velma, and they had been best friends since they were children. They held a true and lasting friendship and could even build on it ensuring their bond for their entire lives no matter what challenges each of them faced.

  The cottage had also become a lightning rod for many of Velma’s bad habits, and she knew the ultimate step in her complete recovery was to sell their island and find another place to spend their summers. It wouldn’t be easy to convince Harrison, but in the end, it wasn’t his decision to make, and in time he’d see they could build more memories and create more celebrations with their two daughters. The one thing that was a certainty was that Velma wanted to be at Lake of the Woods. It was in her blood and it was her home, and it was here she wanted her family to return and scatter her ashes when she died.

  Lake of the Woods had over fourteen thousand islands, and they’d be sure to find a suitable location to build another cottage. The land was rugged and the weather extreme, but the beauty was undeniable.

  Weather is what either drew people close or pushed them away from the lake. Both the beginning and end of the summer saw the relentlessness of weather shifts as the lake transitioned from an evening coolness to where the morning sunrise eventually warmed the air.

  Fog, cool on her skin and tight in her lungs, reminded Velma of the days her family would arrive in early May to open the cottage. Often before most of her friends would appear. Today memories visited her from her youth, reminiscent of the hours spent with her father on the lake. The cool morning trip out to Half Moon Bay would differ greatly from her trip home, which would most likely be oppressive and muggy. But for now, the chill was settling uncomfortably in her bones and she wrapped her scarf one more turn around her neck
and tucked the end into her shirt, shielding her skin from the cold.

  Eventually, nature would relent to the warmth of the sun, and the fog would lift and the sky would clear. But that wouldn’t be for several more hours, and she needed to secure the documents before everyone arrived at the Channel Island Summer Club.

  It was early, even too early for the white-throated sparrows to begin their piercing shrill that echoed over the water. Even the crows who seemed to be trained to wake cottagers from their slumber - were also silent.

  Velma turned the key, silencing the motor, and tilted the engine as she let her boat drift the last stretch into the bay. It would be a scene that most people would find eerie, however, today she found a strange comfort in the stillness. Especially since she knew that by the time evening came, she’d be dealing with the fallout of her reparations.

  The beach stretched across the southern length of the isolated island, shielded by the protective rocky mound of the land. Enormous fifty-foot cliffs that acted like rudders guided blowing storms out into the open stretch of water, and the large peak in the center of the island took the brunt of the storms in the winter. This left the soft stretch of sand sheltered and a much sought-after location for summer boaters, picnickers, and swimmers. This was a place with little hospitality or a feeling of solace, yet, it was one of her favorite places to be.

  The town of Lake Pines reserved Wolf Island for public enjoyment and use. However, several cottagers sought government officials' favors hoping to rezone the island, so they’d be able to purchase it. But the initial council members had Wolf Island registered as a nature reserve zone, which made any such changes or purchases impossible. It was on this beach and around this island that Velma spent many hours in her teenage years, exploring, partying, and suntanning, and was always one of her favorite places on the lake.

  Velma waited until the boat was near the edge of the sand before she jumped from the bow and pulled it up onto the beach, preventing it from drifting away. Except for wavy clumps of wild grass that grew on the isolated stretch of land, the view was unobstructed from the rocky cliffs that crawled up to the peak in the center of the island. Small caves and crevices that nature formed in the Canadian Shield were popular for hiking and exploring and even whispered tales of hidden bodies, although none were ever found.

  Eagles and cormorants safely nested on the remote island, protected from cottagers and predators. It had become a popular location for wildlife photographers, both paid and amateur, and a popular national nature magazine featured spectacular images of the island on many occasions. Bonfires weren’t allowed, and only ‘no trace usage’ was permitted. Meaning anyone visiting Wolf Island could leave nothing behind. It’s also what made the island in Half Moon Bay an ideal location for Velma to hide her secret.

  The small cave she hid the box inside was near the apex of the island and Velma chose the area because it was so difficult to reach and she could conceal the small opening with a pile of rocks. She had collected the documents long before she knew how she was going to use them, and she was waiting for the right time when she could reveal the information they contained. Hiding them at her cottage wouldn’t work in the event Harrison stumbled upon them, and for the same reason, their home in the city was also out of the question.

  It was Mary’s suggestion to hide them in the same cave they would stash beer and cigarettes inside when they were teens since they were the only two who even knew the cavern existed. Not even Chrissy was aware of their hiding spot.

  Each step across the beach pulled Velma back to the hours she spent on this island. The sand was compact and heavy with the dampness of the morning fog and grains clung to the sides of her white canvas shoes as she struggled against the resistance. A thin coating of dampness covered the ground and her foot slipped under her first step off the sand, and her knee came crashing down on the edge of a rock that jutted out from the uneven terrain.

  The pain sent a searing heat through her body and she cursed as the ache tightened her joint. With an uncomfortable limp, Velma continued to climb the familiar path, taking each step with caution and grabbing the base of the birch trees, pulling herself up on the rocks.

  She focused on her destination and what she had planned to do later in the afternoon when the pain in her knee distracted her. She didn’t see the shadow darken the rock next to her and she didn’t hear the grunting as her attacker ran up the same beach and rocks she just had moments earlier. By the time she realized she wasn’t alone it was too late. Velma turned around just as he grabbed her arm, knocking her off balance and tumbling down the rocky cliff, landing face down in the sand. Sharp pain stabbed at her back with each motion of her leg. Fighting against the swirling feeling in her head and blurry vision, Velma tried to pull herself to her knees and crawl toward her boat.

  She struggled to get away from his trembling yells, his accusations and threats mixed incoherently with apologies as he tried to get her to change her mind. She had already refused his pleas the day before when they spoke, he fumed with each word, but she’d never imagined he would pose such a sinister threat. The sand was cold and her body shook as she pulled herself toward her boat, she cried out for help even though she knew they were alone on the island.

  The sun had peered over the horizon and the fog was lifting, like it did so many mornings in her life, and she knew that the mist would slowly clear and the sun would warm the early air. Soon the white-throated swallows would sing, and Harrison would pull the cover over his ears to block out the nagging prodding of the crows urging him to wake up.

  She knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun her attacker and when she turned to beg for mercy, the enraged look in his familiar face left her without defense. He didn’t hesitate as he raised his arm above his head and lowered it, holding the same rock she smashed her knee on earlier. Nausea crept into her stomach and her head was spinning even though she remained motionless, and the final blow came down just as their eyes locked.

  It would be a memory Velma would hold for only seconds before she died, but she knew her killer would carry the memory with him forever.

  And then everything went cold.

  2

  Waking up early was something Kerry was accustomed to. The busy commute and long days in Montreal encouraged her to squeeze in a run before breakfast and it was a habit she wasn’t able to easily shift away from. Traveling across Canada at the height of one of the country’s coldest winters was probably not the best decision Kerry had made, and her father wasted no time in sharing his concern. He said that he understood the reasons she needed to leave, even if it was only for a little while, but he wished she could’ve waited until the summer. He encouraged the break, believing everyone needed time to recalibrate especially considering the emotionally draining career that Kerry was in but his concern as a parent overrode his opinion.

  Like most Canadians, Kerry wanted to try her hand at living out west. Vancouver, she joked with her friends, was calling her name and she needed to answer. But the real reason she was leaving was much different, and it was still difficult to talk about. Instead, she began the process of constant distraction.

  Before heading to Vancouver, Kerry spent three months in the western region of Quebec where she honed her skills skiing and even considered moving to the Mount-Tremblant area. She toyed with the idea of using some of her savings to open a small café but resistance from the local authorities to yet another Montrealer setting up an unwanted small coffee shop changed her mind. From there she wove her way through Ontario until she arrived in Lake Pines in late February, which wasn’t the most ideal time to show up.

  A harsh blizzard and a plummeting cold mass settled over Lake Pines when she arrived. Kerry took the trip and the inclement weather in stride and booked a reservation at Fox Lodge whose brochure promised hours of winter entertainment in the ‘warm and rustic lodge’. Kerry purchased a dozen novels in the local bookstore and ventured out to Fox Lodge with her fingers crossed a
nd her hopes high.

  Unease at the thought of driving her Jeep over the frozen lake’s ice road prompted an offer from the manager at the lodge to bring her out himself. That was almost four months ago and during that time Kerry saw many couples and travelers come and go from Fox Lodge. Besides perfecting the art of snowshoeing, she also replaced her morning runs with rounds of cross-country skiing over the frozen lake, meandering through the nearby islands.

  Simon Phillips was the manager at Fox Lodge and he had become a much-needed dose of levity in an otherwise dark, cold setting. He was in his early thirties, lean and athletic, and had a constant playful grin. They spent several hours in the lodge, some evenings huddled in front of the enormous stone fireplace during power outages caused by winter storms. She enjoyed spending time with Simon but kept him at arm's length since she knew she was leaving in a short while and wouldn’t be returning to the small northwestern Ontario town. There were many positive experiences and memories she would take with her when she left, and meeting Simon would be one of them.

  She experienced the spring ice melt and the emergence of the open water from the rustic surroundings of Fox Lodge and hated that her time in Lake Pines was ending. With less than one week left in her booked reservation, she needed to squeeze in as many water activities as she could before she drove west to Vancouver. And she hoped the region’s shift to warmer weather would give her that opportunity.

  Simon had arranged an overnight guided canoe trip that would take her and three other guests north to explore old caves that held myths and tales of dead gold miners’ ghosts. An adventure shrouded in mystery was just what Kerry needed before she left Lake Pines, and she was eager to begin the trek.

  While Simon was splitting wood to restock the firebox, Kerry offered to go into town and pick up the food supplies that were ordered for their trip.