Mason nodded and opened the back door for the dogs. Charley went to nose the ground at Naomi’s feet while Samson jumped out and raced to join Davy. The little boy turned and caught sight of his mother. Worry rippled across his face, and he looked down at his wet, muddy clothes. Bree smiled at him, and his face cleared. He threw his arms around the dog and turned back to his friends.
“We should feed the babies and put them down for a nap,” Naomi whispered.
Bree nodded. “Let’s tell the others what is going on first. They have to be wondering.”
Yancy Coppler lumbered toward her like a genial bear. Bree had liked the researcher the minute she’d met him. He reminded her of Santa Claus with his head of white hair and neatly trimmed beard. She’d heard he was still recovering from a nasty divorce, and she couldn’t imagine a woman ditching him.
“Trouble?” he asked when he reached her.
She nodded. “Phil drowned in the lake.”
He winced, and his pale blue eyes watered. “Ah, poor Denise.” He glanced at the twins. “Is there anything I can do? The rest of Phil’s team is here too.” He blinked and rubbed his forehead.
“Just tend the kids until their parents pick them up,” Naomi said.
“I can help with that,” he promised. He hesitated. “Do we know what happened?”
Bree patted a wailing Alex on the back. “Looks like he drowned while fishing. Samson found him just off Three Indians rock.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Phil was a great guy. We’re going to miss him at the lab. He did all my computer work. I’m hopeless at it. I guess I’ll have to break down and hire an assistant. But that’s minor compared to what Denise and the kids will be going through.”
Bree watched him walk slowly back to the adults huddled by the sidewalk. She recognized the other scientists on the team. Chito Yamamoto, the youngest of the researchers, took a step back when Yancy began to speak. A Japanese-American, Chito had a three-year-old daughter here at the party. Ian Baird, who had thinning blond hair and clothes that rarely matched, was distant and single, though from the glances he was sending Nora’s way, he seemed eager to change that. Nora Corbit and Lola Marcos were also single, both in their fifties. Denise had told Bree they considered themselves grandmothers to the Taylor children. Bree hoped they’d be of special help to Denise now.
The head of the lab, Cassie Hecko, stood with her assistant, Salome Levy. They both stopped talking when Bree approached. The two older women glanced toward Bree and nodded, then turned to take charge of Adrian and his friends.
Bree and Naomi carried the squalling toddlers into the house. The kitchen’s aromas of fresh-baked cake and hamburgers made Bree’s stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten today. After several minutes of rummaging through the cabinets for a cookie or something to distract them, she found saltine crackers. They both accepted one and began to quiet.
“Mum-mum-mum,” Abby said.
“We’ll go see Mommy in a minute,” Bree assured her. It was nearly suppertime, so maybe they were hungry. Naomi found some jars of baby food in the cupboard and heated them in the microwave.
By the time they’d fed the children and settled them down with toys, the childish squeals and shouts from the front yard had abated. Bree and Naomi stepped onto the back porch. Davy, Timmy, and Adrian, the Taylor’s five-year-old, played quietly with boats in a nearby mud puddle. The adults stood huddled together, talking softly.
Lola Marcos squeezed Bree’s hand when she and Naomi joined the group. “Bless your heart, chiquita. Those poor children.” Her gray hair, straight as seaweed, swung against her shoulders.
Nora Corbit was the opposite of Lola. Where Lola was round and soft, Nora was thin and sinewy. But her stern face wore the same expression of compassion. “I still can’t believe it,” she said.
Bree nodded. “Thanks for staying to help out.” She heard Samson growl, a hostile sound she rarely heard from her good-natured dog. She whirled to see what was wrong. He approached the woods and stopped in a stiff-legged stance. His ears laid back, snarls like she’d never heard issued from his throat. Her gaze went past him to Davy, and she gulped.
A gray wolf was five feet from her son. Its teeth bared, it crouched as if to jump on the unsuspecting boy. A crushing weight on her chest smothered her warning, and only a strangled cry emerged. Time seemed to stop as she saw every detail of the wolf’s menacing approach. A patch of hair was missing from its back right leg, and the pointed teeth it bared at her son seemed to grow.
She felt as though she moved against the power of Superior’s waves as she sprang to grab Davy, but with an easy bound, Samson put himself between the wolf and her boy. He planted his body as a guard. His feet sank in the mud, and the growl he uttered was unlike any Bree had heard from her placid dog. He lunged at the wolf, and the wild animal drew back just before Samson’s teeth would have sunk into its throat.
Bree’s feet finally carried her to her son. She snatched Davy to her chest and ran to the cottage. Naomi was on her heels with Timmy in her arms. Lola had Adrian. With the children safe, Bree turned to watch. The wolf fell back then circled the dog. Samson seemed no match for the heavier, more muscular wolf, but stood firm. Its teeth snapping, the wolf leaped on Samson. The two animals melded into a snarling ball of fur with occasional flashes of bared fangs. The sound of snapping teeth nearly froze the blood in Bree’s veins.
“Stay here!” Bree told everyone. She thrust Davy into Yancy’s arms. She needed a weapon. Frantic now, she charged around the house to the Jeep. Her bear spray was in her ready-pack. She flung open the door and dragged the sack toward her. The battle behind her reached a frenzy. She upended the backpack and dumped the contents on the wet grass. Her hand finally closed around the bear spray. She popped the top off then rushed back to her dog.
But Samson needed no help. With a last growling lunge, his teeth clamped down on the wolf’s leg. The wolf yelped and managed to struggle away, then crashed headlong to the woods. Samson started to go after him.
“Samson, no!” Bree shouted.
Her dog shook himself, then turned toward her and whined. He looked toward the woods and gave a final growl, then trotted to Bree, satisfaction and triumph in every line of his body.
Bree fell to her knees and embraced him. “Good boy,” she cooed, running her hands over him. He had some bites that would need treatment, but he was too proud of himself to flinch when her hands touched the injuries.
“Man, that was really something!” Ian Baird rushed to where she knelt with the dog. “I’ve never seen a dogfight like that.”
“What an incredible animal,” Nora said. “He saved your little boy. That wolf would have had him in another second.”
“I’ve never seen the like,” Yancy panted, rushing to join them.
Bree buried her face in Samson’s fur. He smelled of wet dog and blood. She felt disjointed, like she would fall apart if someone said another word. “I love you, Samson.” He licked her face, and she began to cry. It was either let the tears fall or faint, and tears seemed the stronger of the two reactions.
“He’s going to need tending,” Naomi said. Her face was the color of the white beach below them. “You take him to the vet, and I’ll stay here with the kids.”
“Thanks.” Bree managed to get to her feet. “Let me check on Davy first.” She wanted to run her hands over him the same way she’d just done with Samson, to make sure he was all right. She hurried to the back door where the boys stood peering out. They were more excited than frightened.
Samson followed her into the kitchen. She wanted to pick him up, but knew she couldn’t transfer her own fear to her son. Samson nudged her hand then stopped, his ruff raised. He whined and went to the back door. Sniffing the floor, he whined again then lifted his muzzle and howled. He tucked his tail between his legs and hunched down.
He was signaling a death scent.
2
The streets of Rock Harbor were choked with cars, a sure sign summer had c
ome to the U.P. Ignoring the posted no-parking zones, motor homes had been left in haphazard abandon while their occupants loitered along the outdoor displays of thimbleberry jam and local honey.
Kade Matthews grimaced when he couldn’t find a spot to leave his pickup. There was no use in getting ticked off though. This was how it was every summer. And the money the tourists spent kept the town going the rest of the year. He finally found a space he could squeeze into across from the Suomi Cafe. He got out of his truck, then dodged a family in the middle of the street, gawking over the architecture of the town clock.
The cafe was doing a brisk dinner business. Molly, her hair scraped back from her skinny face, brought him a cup of coffee as soon as he slid into a booth. “What happened at the lake today, eh? I heard a body was found.” Her Yooper accent was always more pronounced when she was excited, and today it was thick enough to butter the nisu in the display case.
“Then you know more than I do. I left when the sheriff took over.” He studied the menu though he knew it as well as the contents of his own cupboards.
“Hey, you heard the latest Yooper joke?” Molly didn’t wait for Kade to answer. “You know you’re a Yooper if your mosquito repellent doubles as your aftershave.”
Kade grinned. “I heard you’re a Yooper if you think the sign saying ‘Fine for Parking’ means this is a really good spot.”
She laughed and nodded toward the street thronged with cars. “Looks like all da trolls are the real Yoopers.”
Anyone living below the Mackinac Bridge, otherwise known as Troll Turnpike, was called a troll. The ongoing joke in the U.P. was that trolls were easy to spot because they locked their houses when they left and locked their car doors even in Escanaba. No real resident bothered with locking anything. Kade wasn’t even sure where his house key was hiding.
He grinned at Molly and ordered a pumpernickel and rye sandwich with chips, then turned to stare out the window. Seeing Bree today had shaken him.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
His sister’s voice interrupted his thoughts, a circumstance he welcomed since his thoughts persistently drifted to Bree. He glanced at his watch. Six o’clock. “You’re off work early.” The Coffee Place didn’t close until eleven, and he’d thought Lauri had to work until then.
Lauri slung her tall, slim form onto the seat across from him. “The smell of the espresso was making me sick, so Cutler let me go a little early.”
She did look a little green. Kade pushed his glass of water toward her. “Need something to drink?”
She shook her head. “Food is what I need. The morning sickness doesn’t usually bother me if I eat breakfast, but I was running late this morning so I didn’t eat anything. All I’ve had today is a bagel.” She told Molly to bring her a chicken-salad sandwich and a Dr Pepper then turned to Kade. “Okay, give. What’s going on out at the lake? Bree called for me to come help search, but I had to work.”
“Phil Taylor was reported missing. I found his fishing rod and gear out by Three Indians. When I left, Bree and Naomi were trying to find him. Molly said she heard they found a body, but don’t quote me.”
“Who’s Phil Taylor?”
“One of the new scientists in charge of things out at Rock Hound Mine.”
Lauri shook her head. “Seems crazy to put a lab in a mine. And they’re growing stuff in there, I hear. One of my customers this afternoon told me he saw them hauling in what looked like plants.”
Kade grunted. “Sounds crazy, but with lights I suppose you can grow plants anywhere. And there would be plenty of humidity in there.”
Lauri didn’t answer but stared at him, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“What? Do I have dirt on my face?”
She scowled. “I suppose you didn’t even speak to Bree, did you? You are as stubborn as the summer mold. It’s been two months and you haven’t even tried to hear her side of things.”
“What is there to talk about? She prefers her fireman Nick. She can have him.”
“You make me so mad! Bree too. She’s just as stubborn as you. If one of you would just apologize, everything would be fine.”
“I have nothing to apologize for.” Kade crossed his arms over his chest.
Lauri narrowed her eyes. “Men never apologize,” she said.
She seemed about to launch into another tirade, but Kade shook his head. “Did you go for your doctor’s appointment this morning before work?”
“Yep, everything is fine. The doctor says the baby is healthy.” She accepted the Dr Pepper Molly brought her and swished her straw through the dark liquid absently.
Kade frowned as he watched her. The past two months had brought a definite softening of her attitude toward him, but the cost had been high. With his sister now four months pregnant and only seventeen herself, the future terrified him. Lauri was his responsibility, and the thought often made him break out in a cold sweat in the early hours before dawn.
So far he’d failed miserably. With Bree as well as his sister.
Superior Forensics was in charge of the kitchen now that it looked as though Phil had been murdered. Bree wished she could fix Denise a cup of tea, but they’d been banished to the living room. Naomi had taken the boys to Anu’s.
The bereaved wife rocked back and forth in the armchair by the window. “He can’t be dead,” she murmured.
The living room was pleasant and homey with lots of family pictures scattered on the various end tables and walls. The blue and yellow color scheme would be cheerful in other circumstances. Toys lay scattered on the carpet, and the room looked every inch a happy home. Bree knew it would be a long time before much laugher echoed here again.
“I’m so sorry, Denise,” Bree said, kneeling in front of the woman. “I know what you’re feeling. My husband died nearly two years ago in a plane crash.” Her eyes burned. She remembered every minute detail of how she heard the news about Rob. They were etched into her memory forever. She held Denise’s cold and shaking hands tightly.
Samson pressed his nose against Denise’s leg and gave it a comforting lick. His wounds, mostly around his head, had been bandaged, giving him a wounded-hero appearance.
“I need to do something,” Denise said. “Call our family, I suppose.” Fresh tears erupted. “I don’t know how I can tell his mother. He’s her only child.”
Bree winced. “I could call for you.”
“No, no, I should do it. It would be worse to hear it from a stranger.” She rubbed her eyes, then looked at Bree. “No offense.”
“None taken. I think I have some Pepsi in the Jeep. Can I get you one? I have some pistachios as well.”
“No thanks. I couldn’t eat anything. I suppose you think I had something to do with Phil’s death.” Denise wiped her red nose as fresh tears welled. “There has to be some mistake. When I left to go shopping, Phil was getting his things together to go fishing. He promised he’d be back by ten to help me with Adrian’s party.”
“No one is accusing you of anything.”
“You didn’t see the way the sheriff looked at me. He thinks I killed him.” Denise buried her face in her hands.
Bree touched her shoulder. “Mason will figure it out. Tell me about your morning.”
Denise gulped. “I went out to the lab to pick up some papers for Phil, then went to get groceries.”
“What papers did you pick up?”
Denise hunched her shoulders. “He said it was just some notes on the project. It was just a bunch of squiggles—made no sense to me. He had an idea and wanted to work on it over the weekend.”
“Did you talk to anyone at the lab?”
“No. No one was around, so I just used his key for the office, grabbed the papers, and left.”
Bree knew she had no business getting involved in this murder. Mason hadn’t asked for her help, and Denise wasn’t a personal friend, but something about the woman tugged at her heart. Maybe it was the death of her husband. Bree told herself to keep her n
ose out of it, but somehow she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Denise deserved answers, and so did those children.
“Where are those papers now?”
Denise pointed to the sofa table. “I laid them there.”
Bree stood and went to the table. “These?” She glanced at the notes. They were filled with formulas that would likely make no sense to anyone but him.
Denise nodded and burst into tears again. “What am I going to do without Phil?”
Bree went to her and embraced her. Phil and Denise had brought the kids to church since they’d moved to town. “Just hang on to God,” she whispered.
“I am,” Denise said in a choked voice. She shuddered and made an obvious attempt to regain her composure.
Once Denise was calm again, Bree probed with a gentle voice. “Was Phil happy here in Rock Harbor? Did he mention any conflicts at work?”
Denise grabbed a tissue from the box on the table. “No. He was thrilled to get to move up here. He and his dad used to come up every autumn for a fishing trip. He went on and on about how much I’d love it here, how great it would be for the kids. And this project at the lab was something he was really excited about.”
“What was he working on?”
“I don’t know. He wasn’t allowed to talk about it, not even with me.”
“Did he know all the other scientists who transferred here?”
Denise nodded. “They’d already started putting the project together in Dayton.” She stopped and stared into space. “He and Yancy were especially close. They headed up the project.”
No wonder Yancy had been upset. Bree hated to be questioning Denise. “No clue about the project?”
Denise seemed to gather her thoughts. She wiped at her eyes. “I know it’s something really important to the company. The last patent they had was challenged in the courts and they lost. The company really needs this new project to be done right. And they’re on a tight deadline—two months. Phil was determined to be their golden boy.”
Now he would never spin another centrifuge or write another formula. And, more important, he’d never see his children grow up.