The Kirk Lake Camp Series Box Set

The Kirk Lake Camp Series

A Charlene Parker Mystery Series

Owning and operating a cottage resort in a peaceful northern Ontario setting should be a piece of cake for a former police detective. Families should be happy to be on a vacation in rustic log cabins set among acres of old-growth pines along a vast shoreline of a clean lake ideal for swimming, boating and fishing.

It should and they should, is what goes through the mind of a former detective turned resort owner every time a guest shows up and havoc reigns. It's enough to make the former detective turned resort owner want to head south back to a dark alley in the north end Hamilton to chase a criminal in a hoodie, always a hoodie.

But instead, the former detective turned resort owner stays put and cleans toilets, cuts wood, sells gas, worms and ice, rents fishing boats and canoes and cottages, smiles at guests, and helps the local O.P.P. solve murder in the north on the resort, because every time guests show up, someone gets killed.

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A Kayak for One

Book one in the six book Kirk Lake Camp series.

Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to my mother, Rose McCluskey

(September 19th, 1931-September 24th, 2015)

I would like to be able to thank my mother for her encouragement in getting me started on A Kayak for One, my first book. Her enthusiasm and belief that I would serve myself better if I wrote down the words that were piling up in my head, motivated me to just get at it. Sadly, my mother died before I completed the book.

My thanks and appreciation go out to Arthur, my partner, who listened to my idea for a series of books and told me he thought it was a great idea. His continued support and encouragement have helped guide me through my writing. We have shared our thoughts about the characters and had lots of laughs over zany ideas for the plots in the six book Kirk Lake Camp series set in northern Ontario.

I would like to thank Arthur for all his work at getting my book formatted properly as an ebook, paperback and audiobook, as well as acknowledge his creativity and artistry in designing the covers for the books.

Last, but not least, I would like to thank my family members and friends who read this book in its rough stages and asked me when book two would be finished.

Chapter 1

Tuesday September 22nd, 2015

Charlie

Charlie looked up and out the bedroom window at the morning sky and maple branches just as the loon started its call. Just hearing the plaintive, haunted cry made getting up out of bed to look out through the tree branches toward the lake worthwhile, that, and the autumnal reds and oranges of the maple leaves on the branches that almost touched the second-floor bedroom window. The birches along the shoreline were still bright yellow. Though the tamarack was still holding onto its green hue, Charlie knew the hard season was almost over.

It was 7:05 am. The alarm clock was set for 7:20 so Charlie made sure to turn it off, not wanting to hear the jarring sound if not needed. There had been too many years of early alarm get-ups with the variety of bells, beeps, buzzes and noises that came from the alarm clock, radio alarms, pagers, and now the cell phone. That done, Charlie padded out naked to the kitchen and turned the coffee on, then moved to the living room to nudge the thermostat of the propane fireplace up to some respectful temperature, then moved next into the bathroom. Having learned from experience with the season change and dark early mornings, Charlie looked first to make sure the shutters were tightly closed on the big window over the tub before turning on the light. Now near the end of September the sun was still just rising. After a quick wash and listen to see whether it was time to go turn down the stove element under the percolator, it was time to get dressed for work, starting with long underwear bottoms and top, thick wool socks, wind pants, and a flannel shirt. The hot shower would come at the end of the day. There was no point at the start.

Charlie slipped on a well-worn pair of moose-skin moccasins, thinking, not for the first time, that it was time to buy another pair. They had been re-stitched with heavy thread last year, but that wouldn't work again, and the thick-skin soles were no longer thick all over. It would be tough to find some with the padded bottoms. The trading posts in the area seem to be stocking more moccasins with a designer look and less substance, rather than those made for everyday wear, for going in and out of the house, at least on dry days. The shopping trip though, like anything else personal, would have to wait.

With fresh coffee in the thermos, Charlie started down the stairs. Breakfast would come after the coffee, making the most of the strong black coffee first.

Chapter 2

Bob

He woke up where he fell asleep. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last that it wouldn't be his bed. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubbed the Jim Beam and sleep from them. He shoved the chesterfield cushions aside, rolled up to sit, and looked out the wall-to-wall windows across the lake. He smiled. The lights in the office were on at the resort across the narrow channel of water. Charlie was up. He reached for the binoculars.

Chapter 3

Dan

Fuck. I am fucked.

There was no point keeping this as an inside-the-head phrase. It only felt better saying it out loud, but not so loud to disturb anyone. Who would hear anyway? Charlie? Looking out the window over the bed toward the house, Dan could see the light in the bathroom, just showing between the thin spaces between the slats of the shutter. Charlie must be up then. The students would be asleep though. They had youth on their side and the late beer nights after studying would allow them to sleep soundly. He better be careful though. The resort was dead quiet, with only the loon and nuthatches making any noise this early. There were other cottages on the lake but spaced out well and tucked in to the trees. Unlike a lot of the recreation lakes in northern Ontario, around here there were only a handful of cottages and they each had lots of acreage. Most were built by Americans in the 1950s and many third generation family members came to the lake for just a few weeks in the summer, happy to use what their grandparents paid for, decades before them.

The six hour drive from Toronto kept a lot of people away. That, and there was no road to most of the cottages. The resort wasn't on an island as most people thought when Dan described the area to them, but most of the land was provincial park and a First Nation reserve. The dirt road in to the back half of the land was on reserve land, for reserve use only, and there was no road access into the park. Other than the few properties along the bumpy road that was mainly a tract over rock, the way in was by boat. Most people had to park at the resort parking lot and launch at the docks and boat everything in. They paid for parking and launching or dock rental space, including the canoeists with permits to enter the park. Charlie had a good set up, he thought.

Dan thought the coming week-end should be busier on the lake and maybe at the resort too. The fall colours were at the peak he noticed when they drove in on Sunday, so the tourists and artists and hikers will be lured into the area. It's hard to say, though, with the recession-like economy still in full swing.

This was a new experience for him, coming like this in the fall. When they came at their usual time, the end of April into the first part of May, they were usually the only group at the resort. It was just getting ready to open after being closed all winter. He would greet Charlie looking at a fresh face, full of enthusiasm for the upcoming season. He could see now though, that working every day since the resort opened had taken its toll. He noticed there were lines of tiredness, exhaustion even, around Charlie's eyes and mouth.

It was Tuesday, the third day of Dan's trip. He had been coming with a different group for 25 years, bringing the best and brightest of the fourth-year geology students with him. The area was ripe for geologists being in the La Cloche mountain area, known for its high quality white quartzite. A company was still mining it at a quarry at the edge of Highway 6 near the road into Miner's Village, to be broken down into the silica used to make glass.

Sometimes another professor would come if the numbers warranted it, but not this year. There were only five students this time. There was a mix up with funding and the usual spring trip was canceled. The money finally came in for a 10-day fall trip, but some students were already working after graduating and couldn't take the time off. Why would they if they had jobs in the field? The trip still included an extra credit though, and it was this and the field experience that when seen on a resume could help the students get a foot in the door.

Thank Christ none of this group had it in their heads that they would walk into a million-dollar-a-year job in the oil industry in Alberta as soon as they graduated. How he got through teaching the course in the 1990s with those students who thought like that, he had no idea. Most of them didn't have the love of seeing the wonders inside the rock. They just wanted the big offices and big windows in Calgary and the stake in the share of the oil companies who hired them. The boom of the oil industry in the seventies then again in the nineties meant graduates expected to be rich, finding high-paying jobs in the lucrative oil business right out of university. A lot did. This group this year though, would be lucky to find full-time work doing anything. The bust in the oil industry in Alberta was happening.

He still had work though. The geology course was still part of Brock University's curriculum, for now. He could leave if he wanted with an early pension, but his divorce settlement would take a big chunk of that each month. Besides, at 62 he still thought of himself as young. What would he do if not teach? Isn't 60 the new 30s or something like that? he thought. He still had a trim and fit body from all the climbing around escarpments chipping away at rock and swimming twice a week at the community pool in St. Catherine's. It was this confidence and arrogance, he thought with a shudder, that led to his thinking that Ashley would welcome his arm around her when they were at the camp fire last night.

The other students drew dinner clean-up duty, so hadn't joined them outside yet. It was dark and there were a few trees between them and the cottage where the other students were washing dishes, so he was sure no one saw Ashley shove him away, or heard her hiss that he was fucked, so fucked. She said she would report harassment to the university once they were back and he could kiss what remained of his pension good-bye. His recent divorce was no secret among the students or staff. Ashley made it clear it was only her fear of losing the course credit that would stop her from saying anything to anyone during the rest of the time on the field trip. She got up and stormed into the cottage to join the others.

The students all come out to the campfire shortly after that. Ashley sat close to Lori on the bench by the fire. Dan stayed for a beer then left them to it saying goodnight, taking refuge in his cottage. He closed all the curtains, poured more than his usual shot of whisky, glad that the liquor store in Espanola carried Jameson Irish Whiskey and that they stopped in on the way to the resort. He sat in the dark thinking how he could change Ashley's mind to report him, or to change her version to one of innocence on his part.

Now though, it was time for him to get dressed for the day. They were going to take the van along Highway 6 and stop for rock samples at different spots, the same spots he took the students each year. This time though, there was no need for bug repellent, and the terrain would be dry and not snow-soaked and muddy. He put on his canvass cargo pants with the zippers at the knees and a long-sleeved button-up shirt with sleeves he could roll up past his elbows and button once the day got warmer. The day looked promising with no forecast of rain. He might be able to unzip his pants to shorts. He found he got hot quickly hiking and working on sun-warmed rocks. He took down his Tilley hat from the peg on the wall by the door and packed it with his backpack already organized with what he needed for the day.

He made his bed and rinsed out his coffee cup. He looked around the little one-room cottage thinking this trip could be his last if Ashley did report him. He loved the cottage. He always stayed in this one. It had a blue swivel chair, a queen-sized bed and an antique wood dresser painted blue with red hearts, all in the same room as the kitchen. Everything was in good repair and always clean. Though small, the kitchen was fully equipped and had an old wood table for two, set into one corner of the room. It was set with a red and white gingham cloth and an old creamer filled with fresh flowers or flowering weeds found on the property and picked by Charlie. Windows all around the cottage and a back door including its own screen door, afforded the views of the mixed-growth forest that surrounded the resort. He put on his leather hiking boots, careful to tuck the bottom of his pants into his socks for protection against the first-of-the-day chill and dampness on the ground.

He would go sit in the screened front porch for a bit then go knocking at the other two cottages along the lake to wake up the students. It was almost time for everyone to get cooking and eating breakfast.

They always met in cottage #1 where the three male students were staying, each with their own bedroom. It was the largest cottage on the resort with a wood harvest table large enough to fit them all with room to spare this year. Ashley was sharing cottage #2 with Lori. It had three bedrooms too, but not the space in the living area or at the table. Like his cottage, it had electric baseboard heating but no wood stove like in cottage #1.

He could now see the smoke coming out of the chimney, so one of the boys must be up already. It was probably Peter, he seemed to be more on the ball in the mornings than Haiden and Greg.

He liked that his cottage was set back behind and between cottages #1 and #2. His cottage was built last, well after numbers one through five were built spaced well apart along the lake, each with private docks. The hill was too steep at the far end of the shoreline for any more buildings so cottage #6 was built at the next best spot. There was still a full view of the lake in front though, and the cottage was surrounded by white pines and a few cedar trees. He could see what the students were up to for the most part. He could see them walking between the cottages and see the lights come on or go off inside.

He hoped he didn't have to knock to wake up the girls. He didn't know how he was going to face Ashley this morning and wondered if she kept her promise or if she confided in Lori.

Chapter 4

Charlie

It was 7:45 am and time to get a move on. Charlie turned off the computer, reluctantly got up from the warm leather chair at the desk that faced out to the lake, walked over to the wood stove, slipped out of the moccasins and slipped into the tall, green Hunter boots that had been warming beside the fire. It was supposed to get warm today with no indication of rain, but the pine needles and long grass and weeds by the lake shore would be soaking wet still. Charlie walked to the other side of the room down a short hallway, and put on the wind jacket hanging beside the door that was marked 'private' on the exterior, for the house part of the resort only. The sign didn't seem to deter guests from trying to come in that way, but Charlie thought an effort should be made to try to stop them. After a quick grab to put on the thick gloves with the leather hand and finger grips that were on the chair by the door, Charlie went outside.

The nuthatches were busy traveling down the trees, upside down to the other birds flitting about and on the branches of the tall pines that grew thick in front of the house and office. Their chatter amused Charlie, and the smell of the pine needles was exhilarating. This is why Charlie bought the resort here three seasons ago. Most of the landscape appeared unspoiled, even though logging and mining was going on years ago. The rail line along the opposite shore built by INCO to pick up mine workers from a small enclave of company houses was still there, but not used by trains anymore. Originally there was no road in from Highway 6 to the houses. There was now. Most of the 12 houses not occupied by somebody whose family had 'always lived there', were rented out by owners to weekenders. Guests coming to stay with Charlie at Kirk Lake Camp used the road, as did cottagers heading for the few properties that dotted the shore, just past Creepyville. Charlie smiled at the name given the village by one of the guests a few years ago. This was because of the line of attached dilapidated garages that lined both sides of the road coming into the area. Most of the garages were not used and had doors hanging off the hinges or sagging with rot. The roofs were covered in lichen and pine needles and old maple branches that fell from the trees that almost enveloped the buildings. Since then, Charlie didn't think of the area by its real name, Miners' Village, though it wasn't populated enough to be called a real village. There were no services for the residents other than the neighbouring volunteer fire department or O.P.P. police that had to come in from the highway if patrolling nearby, or from the station just outside of Espanola on Highway 17. That was about a 20 minute drive away, if traffic wasn't stopped by a beaver or a turtle crossing the road. That was the extent of the traffic jam up here.

This final section of the drive to the resort through the village was not the prettiest first impression for Charlie's guests, after the first part of the drive, along the two km. section of roller-coaster hills and turns cut into the side of the towering hill of quartzite rock in hues of white, pinks, burgundies and grays. On one side of the road was the steep rock face. The other side bordered a steep drop-off, with only one small section of guard rail and a bit of shoulder with room for one car to pull over. The view of the lake and surrounding hills and forest was magnificent, so it was usual to see a car parked there.

Charlie walked the 20 or so strides from the house to the dock, being careful to step over the exposed tree roots, and stepped onto the pontoon boat. It would be good to warm the motor a bit this morning, so Charlie started the motor first, then got busy at the white stacking chairs. They should have been resting upside down against the railings along the sides of the boat. They had been moved and not put back, so Charlie had to wipe them down again. A wet bum would teach them a lesson.

No sooner had Charlie dried the chairs and set them four to a side along the 32' pontoon boat, which was really a deck on pontoons, when the drake and his ducklings came walking along the shore to the boat.

Good morning Charlie, said Professor Bowen as he led his charge up the dock and onto the boat. It's going to be a great day!

Good morning. Hi everyone! answered Charlie, first smiling at Dan then looking at the five sullen-looking students.

A mix of morn'n hi hey and mostly mumbling meant the students were bagged from a late night of drinking instead of studying, or maybe just shy. Probably drinking, thought Charlie, remembering the loud voices by the fire the night before. Well, well, love is in the air. Charlie saw that Haiden moved his chair closer to where Ashley was sitting. It wasn't a real surprise since he did the same thing the past two days on the boat trip to and from the landing. It wasn't a big surprise, either, to see the look that quickly passed between Ashley and Lori, who sat across from her. It seemed Ashley was not as keen on Haiden as he was on her.

Peter and Greg chose to stand, facing the front, setting their legs apart to keep their balance for the five minute boat ride across to the resort parking lot. Neither would give the other the pleasure of seeing them hold onto the railing. Charlie's eyes rolled at the absurdity of this male competition.

The professor sat in his usual spot, as close to the front of the boat deck as he knew was allowed. There was no railing across the front and Charlie didn't like anyone up too close to the end. Charlie had once seen a little pontoon boat go under the water when too many large people were sitting on the deck at the front, feet hanging over the edge. A large wave from the wake of a passing boat caught the top of the deck and tipped the boat under, people included.

The professor's chair faced the front. When he first met Charlie he explained by saying he liked to feel the full wind in his sails. Charlie sensed it would take more than that to perk him up today. He had a bit of a mood about him this morning and noted the tone of his voice didn't match his jubilant words. He looked a bit pale and tired, and older. Well, Charlie was older too since they first met three years ago.

Maybe he's tiring of this trip Charlie thought, but hoped not, since the university money came in handy when there wasn't as much money in the bank at the start of the season. By September, the money wasn't as big an issue since the resort still did well through the summer. It didn't really matter when the money came in, as long as it came in, so Charlie agreed to the September trip. It meant, though, the fall solitude would be broken with the students on the property. There would be no sleeping in either, after the busy summer. Charlie would have to be ready to boat the group over to their van every morning at 8:00 am and be there to pick them up at 5:00 pm Charlie was stuck working around their schedule for the remainder of their stay.

Chapter 5

Bob

He watched Charlie on the boat. He saw the students come out of the cottages, the girls out of cottage #2 and the boys out of cottage #1. He wondered again why Charlie didn't come up with something more original on the signs on the cottages thinking that people would like something other than a number. Either way, he didn't like that they were there. A few quiet guests would likely come on the last few week-ends of the season. He noticed the couple in cottage #5 who came on Sunday were still there, probably for the peak of the fall colours, but Charlie was usually alone through the week this time of year. The groups of fishing guys would come a bit later, toward the end of September and into October for Thanksgiving, when the bass would be bigger and tastier as the lake turned with the cold fall nights. Then no one would come until May next year. That's what he liked.

He watched the girls come down the steps from the screened porch. They looked like city girls wearing tight tops, little jackets and tight jeans. They looked like they were heading to a bar and not going traipsing around the rocks They were wearing hiking boots at least, he noticed, and one was wearing a cap. He watched the one with the long dark hair look over her shoulder at the boys walking along from cottage #1 up behind them. Two of the boys called out something making both girls turn and laugh. He saw the laughter die on the dark-hair girl's face as she looked at the other boy. He didn't seem to notice or care though. He ran ahead and walked close beside her. He saw that she moved her arm away from him to hold onto the knapsack she had slung over her other shoulder. He watched the boy's hand brush the girl's hip as they came to a narrow part of the path along the shore between the two old cedar trees. He could almost feel the soft hip.

He moved the binoculars back to where Charlie was putting the last chair into place on the boat. Charlie looked over suddenly. He put the binoculars down.

Chapter 6

Dan

Dan stopped to look at the view from the landing across the 400 metre stretch of water to the resort he had come to love. The lake returned to its flat state after Charlie dropped them off headed back. The last of the wake from the boat was hitting the shore with a sucking sound, the splash back taking some of the earth with it. He liked to walk in the water along the shore and look under the little caves created, but he was also pleased to see that Charlie had let the grass and weeds grow long along the shores as much as possible. In the last years he could see the progress of the shoreline going back to a natural state. It meant being startled by more water snakes coming out of the tall grasses to the sunny spots where they would sit coiled up for hours, sometimes with a noticeable bulge, digesting a mouse, but Dan preferred this to the grass being mowed right to the edge of the shoreline like many lakefront property owners did.

He noticed that Charlie made sure to slow the boat well in advance of docking it to help prevent further erosion. He remembered the previous owner operating the boat at full throttle and jamming the motor into reverse just shy of the dock, probably to give the students a bit of a jarring after a late-night knock at the office door for a deck of cards or something. Charlie was more careful mooring the boat, he thought with a smile, knowing there was a sign attached to the front of the dock, No Mooring. Though meant to detract the boaters that would otherwise take up the longest dock reserved for the pontoon boat alone, the sign only piqued the question, What does mooring mean? from almost every student he has brought to the resort since Charlie hammered in the sign.

Will this be my last trip? Dan wondered, until Haiden called to him from the side door of the van where he was seated beside Ashley.

Are you coming? We're not going to get anywhere without a driver.

Dan thought he knew why Haiden was in such a hurry. He was probably hoping to get some alone time with Ashley like he did yesterday when they had their first field trip. Dan caught Haiden trying to get Ashley out of sight of the others, motioning to her to Come and check this out Ash more times than he cared to hear. He knew Ashley did not like Haiden. The rest of the group laughed about his dogged attempts to seduce her when they met in the university pub to discuss the trip up north. Haiden laughed too. He didn't seem daunted by her rebuffs.

Dan thought about that last pub night when he and Ashley were alone at the table for a few minutes while the others got their beer order in. He was sure that Ashley preferred him. No, not just preferred, but wanted him. She drank more than usual that night, he remembered. Perhaps she didn't remember flirting with him and brushing her arm up against his and making those almost lewd comments about younger women and older men having sex. Shit, thought Dan. He will have to get Ashley alone and talk her out of reporting him when they get back to the university. That was the only way out of this mess now.

Chapter 7

Charlie

Charlie went upstairs to the kitchen and put some oatmeal on to cook before going into the bedroom and getting changed out of the long underwear and wind pants into canvas work pants and a tee-shirt. While at the dresser Charlie saw a flash of something reflected in the mirror above. It seemed to come from the front bedroom window, almost like the flash of light that caught Charlie's eye from across the lake just before the students boarded the boat. Charlie looked out the window but only saw waves of sunlight reflecting on the water.

After breakfast and clean-up, Charlie went back down the stairs into the office. The retired couple that were staying in cottage #5 all week, Jack and Edna Porter, were coming in the office door just as Charlie opened the interior door that separated the office from the private portion of the main floor and entered the room.

Hi Charlie, said Edna. We thought we would take the fishing boat down the lake and have a picnic on one of the islands. Can we have a map of the lake to take with us? So you don't worry, we will be gone most of the day. If we need to get across to the car we'll take the fishing boat over ourselves so we won't bother you.

Do you have any worms in? I saw the bait fridge on the front porch was empty, asked Jack quickly with a defiant look at Edna, before Charlie had a chance to answer Edna.

Sure Edna, here's the map, said Charlie, pulling one from the counter drawer.

Looking at Jack, Charlie said, It's that time of year. There's no need for me to keep that fridge plugged in for the few guests here until I close up for the season. I have some upstairs in my fridge in the kitchen. I will get you some. One, or two tubs?

Two, said Jack, his face a picture of hope at his fishing chances.

One, said Edna at the same time, sensing her picnic time shortening and the fishing time lengthening.

One it is, said Charlie, going upstairs, leaving Edna pleased that Charlie took her side and Jack chuffed.

Charlie came back down with a container of worms and a brown paper bag.

I'll add it to your tab, Charlie said, and gave the worms and bag to Jack. It's that fishing book you let me borrow last year. I set it aside for you.

Edna, not the slightest bit interested in anything to do with fishing, walked out of the office ahead of Jack, ready to get going to spend time on the water with her camera and sketch pad. Jack peaked inside the bag, saw the second container of worms, gave Charlie a wink, and followed Edna.

The landing phone rang, startling Charlie.

Hello?

Hello. I am waiting for a pick-up so I come over to check on the water system, said a man with a strong Scottish accent.

Okay. I'll be right there, said Charlie and hung up. There was a phone at the parking lot that rang into one of the office phones to let Charlie know when the boat was needed. It used to ring on a loud speaker system that could be heard all along the 1500' of shoreline and back and beyond. If Charlie was at the other end of the property from the office, that meant the ringing was non-stop until Charlie walked back to the office to pick up the receiver. That annoyed Charlie and the guests, so after the first season, Charlie had the phone line switched to ring only inside the office. The portable phone could then be carried all around the property and be answered from anywhere.

At the landing, a man emerged from an older, black, pick-up truck parked near the dock. He wore a kilt of green, blue, and yellow tartan with a cream coloured wool sweater under an expensive-looking black wind-jacket. Gray wool socks with a red and white stripe showed above his worn and scuffed Kodiak work boots. He carried a tool box. He walked to the dock, jumped aboard the front of the boat, pulled a black, wool watchman's cap from his jacket pocket and put it on his head that was sparse of gray hair but neatly cut short. He planted his feet apart, and stood near the railing. His face lit up with a smile that started from his light blue eyes and ended in a wide grin, accenting the deep lines around his eyes and mouth.

Hello Charlene, he said.

Chapter 8

Bob

He rinsed out his coffee mug and took his toast to the table by the window that he used as a desk. He moved the binoculars aside, opened his lap top, found the file, opened it, and looked at the pictures slowly, one at a time.

He heard the boat motor and saw Charlie docking the pontoon boat. He watched the man follow her up to the house. He smiled, knowing what would come next.

Chapter 9

Dan

I'm sorry Ashley. I misread what I thought was interest in me. You were all over me at the pub before the trip! Dan said when he finally had a chance with Ashley alone out of earshot from the other students.

What! You've got to be kidding me! said Ashley, her whisper not masking her tone of disgust. I have no interest in you whatsoever!

Look, it was inappropriate and I'm really sorry. It was just a hug, not that I'm saying that it was okay to do that, Dan added quickly when he saw that Ashley was about to retort.

Please Ashley, I'm begging you! Don't report what happened. Nothing like that will happen again.

I guess not! Once this course is over I won't have to be near you again. I've already graduated, but you know how important this course is for my resume! That's the only reason I haven't said anything to anyone yet, Ashley said. And I mean yet. You can't get away with touching students!

Please Ashley, he said.

No way Professor Bowen! You need to be held accountable. Ashley picked up her tools and knapsack and walked quickly away, not looking back when Dan said, You bitch! You're going to regret your decision.

What? she asked over her shoulder.

The professor said nothing more, and Ashley walked away over the rocky trail to join the others. He saw her jump back as she almost bumped into Haiden who jumped down in front of her from a rock overhang.

Chapter 10

Charlene

Is that appropriate attire to check on my water pump? Charlene asked.

It's not the pipes I'll be looking at, said Joe.

You know the saying, Charlene said as she took Joe's hand and led him up the stairs to the house. Let's see what's under that kilt sir.

Are you saying you got me here to check on my Scottishness? asked Joe.

I didn't ask you here at all, answered Charlene

No, but now that I'm here... Joe picked up Charlene and carried her down the hall of the house and took her to the bedroom.

Chapter 11

Bob

He left his desk and walked down to his dock. He carried his life jacket, paddle and fishing rod that he stored in the shed beside the cottage. He checked that he also brought the box of fishing line he bought at Walmart when he went to Sudbury last week. The Spiderwire Ultracast Ultimate 10 pound line may come in handy soon. It better, for $14.00 a box. He usually bought 20 pound line for only $3.00 for almost as many yards when he used to go fishing with the guys from work out on Ranger Lake, but the line on his rod was old and probably wouldn't work for what he had in mind.

He remembered to get the worms from his fridge on his way out. There were still a few worms left in the container he bought at that little bait shop he found one day while driving around Espanola. He knew it would be much easier to buy his worms from Charlie but he was not ready to be that close to her yet.

He flipped the bright yellow kayak over and bent down and looked inside it. Not much bothered him, but a water snake or dock spider coming up at him from inside the kayak would. It would not be a good start to what would be a pleasant paddle along the shoreline with his fishing line in the lake behind him with hopes of a nice bass lunch.

He put his life jacket under the tension cords on top of the kayak. It was going to be too warm to wear it. He pulled the kayak to the dock and put it in the water and tied it to one of the cleats, noticing the end of the rope was getting frayed. He would have to remember to put a match to it to melt it. He should also remember to get marine rope next time he was in Canadian Tire, he thought. The cheap blue rope from the Dollar Store wasn't holding up. He was new to all this boating stuff. He was a city dweller, living in Sault Ste. Marie, aka the Soo, all his life, until he bought his cottage. He got it for a good deal from an old guy who had it for about 50 years before it got to be too much for him to keep up. It came with an old 14' fishing boat and a pretty good, but old, 9.9hp Johnson motor. He wrote his boating exam and passed and now just had to learn how to dock the boat better. He found it tricky in the wind, and it was almost always windy in front of his place.

He didn't stay at the cottage all year. The winters would be too isolated. He would head to a rental trailer in a park in Panama City Beach with a bunch of other oldies for a few months until mid-April when he came back to the lake. He was one of the youngest at the park at 60-years-old. He retired from Essar Steel almost two years ago when he was offered a good package and hasn't regretted it. The money from the sale of his house in the Soo paid for the cottage with lots left over, and his work pension would give him enough to live comfortably, if he was careful, for the rest of his life. He handled his divorce the right way five years ago, and she would get no more money from him. Five more years and his Canada Pension and Old Age Security would kick in and he could upgrade to a better trailer. Hell, he thought, he may even put his name in for a trailer at a ritzy park right on the ocean.

He thought he would stay at the lake a few more months this year, depending on how his plan unraveled.

He got into the kayak and untied the rope, leaving bits of blue on his hands and on the dock. He pushed off. He liked the way the kayak moved in the water, stable and strong even in the high winds that usually picked up on the narrow lake around mid-day.

He liked that it was the exact kayak as Charlie's. He loved to watch her pull her yellow kayak off the storage rack, drag it along the path, then carry it along the dock and set it into the water.

He could see some gray streaks in her fair hair when the wind tossed it about her face and neckline, so he knew she was not young. The powerful binoculars also picked up the creases around her eyes and mouth and the deep wrinkle along the one side of her jaw line. She had brown age and sun spots and lots of freckles. He noticed she usually wore a long-sleeved button down shirt like you see in the fishing shows from Florida. Too much sun in the past he thought. She wore sunglasses most of the time when on the water so he couldn't see her eyes. He admired her athleticism and grace though as she got in and out of the kayak at the side of the dock. She was trim and he thought she must be fit from all the work she did around the resort, even with hired help from Sam McGregor, the young guy from the reserve half-way down the highway to Little Current. He was known locally as a good handyman, that is when he showed up, and when he wanted to be. He often saw him up high on a ladder painting the resort cottages. Lots of times he saw him fishing off the dock with a smoke hanging off the corner of his mouth when Charlie wasn't around.

He steadied his kayak. It was difficult for him to get in. His heavy 6', 230 pound frame was built more for stepping on and off a pontoon boat then getting in a small hole in a kayak that rocked on the water when he got in and out of it. He was still getting used to that. He liked that he might be on the water the same time as Charlie though. He took his binoculars with him always just in case she decided on a paddle. That didn't happen very much in the summer months, but now she had a bit more time with fewer guests and the students gone for the day and he didn't want to miss the chance.

Chapter 12

Dan

The students seem to have remembered what they learned yesterday for the most part. It shouldn't be so hard for them to grasp, Dan thought. They'd been out on a few field trips in southern Ontario. It was part of the course though, the review of field techniques, including orientation, use of a compass, and pacing and measurement of Cross beds. The layers within the rocks in the La Cloche hills and along the high rock faces at the side of Highway 6 where the rock was blasted to make way for the highway, were clearly visible. There was no need to go over what they were, the layers known as cross strata. What the students had to figure out though, and clearly present in their reports, was what the layers reveal to geologists about ancient times in the area, including the paleocurrents, or wind direction of ancient flow within the rock.

Today they were examining the basal conformity of the Huronia succession with the Archean basement. That was keeping them busy the professor thought, as he stretched his strong, athletic legs out in front of him as he sat on the warm rock. He removed the bottom of his pants earlier and was more comfortable with just shorts. He couldn't believe the difference in working outside now rather than in the spring. The pine needles gave off a heady fragrance as the heat of the day hit the wooded areas that meandered through the hill and over the rocks.

He needed time alone to think. He uncapped his thermos to have some green tea. What he really wanted was a belt of whisky, wishing he tucked the Jameson bottle into his knapsack. The talk with Ashley didn't go the way he hoped it would. Her refusal to listen and her determination to go through with a harassment complaint, made him feel physically sick. That, and the sudden appearance of Haiden. He must have overheard some, if not all, of the exchange between him and Ashley. Now he may have to deal with Haiden too.

Dan remembered that tonight was pub night. He would escort the students into the little restaurant just off the highway after they had a chance to get back to the resort and clean up. He forgot to ask Charlie if it was okay if she took them over to the landing again about 7:00 p.m. and then pick them up late after the pub. She had done it in the past so he didn't think it would be a problem, but he was normally more courteous and let her know ahead of time. The wings at the Black Cat pub were so good he didn't want to bow out. It might be his last wing dinner if he lost his job. He wouldn't lose his job though, he thought. He would get fined or something, wouldn't he? Maybe the university would no longer fund the trip. He could take that, even though he'd miss coming up here. Maybe Charlie would like some help running the place and he could stay up here for the summer. Probably not. Sam seemed pretty settled in.

Dan thought he would ask Charlie if he could take a fishing boat out tomorrow just in case it was his last chance to be out on the beautiful lake, so beautiful that much of it had been painted by a couple of artists in the famous Group of Seven. Thursday and Friday would be spent in Sudbury at an INCO site, then into Elliot Lake touring the decommissioned mine areas and tailing ponds. Tomorrow though, maybe he could drive Lori's car and lead the students to the field site and leave them on their own. Peter could drive the van and follow him, Lori lived in Sudbury when not in university, and was visiting her parents just before the trip, so she drove her own car to meet the rest of the group at the resort on Sunday. They're adults for Christ's sake. He'd talk to Charlie when they got back.

He could even see if Charlie had a spare fishing pole. And, he brightened up, if Ashley drank as much beer tonight as she did at the university pub before the trip, maybe he could talk some sense into her and it would all work out.

Dan heard the geese before he saw them. He lost count at 35 in the V formation. That was a sure sign of fall. It was also a sign it was near the end of the day and time to drive back. He brushed off the maple keys that had fallen onto his shirt and knapsack, leaving them for the evening grosbeaks and ruffed grouse to eat, and got up to corral the students.

Chapter 13

Charlene

As Charlene heated up some homemade pumpkin and apple soup, she knew her window of spending more time with Joe was almost up. Edna and Jack were away for the day, and the students wouldn't be back until 5:00 p.m., but a group was due to arrive soon to rent canoes for a three-day trip into the provincial park.

I know you're looking at the clock Charlene, Joe said as he smiled and wrapped his arms around her in the kitchen after their showers. I better go downstairs and look at the water system for you like I said I would. I think the ultra-violet light will need a cleaning.

Charlene stayed upstairs and set a nice table for their lunch in front of the large window that overlooked the trees and lake. The house was on the second floor of the resort building built into the slope of a steep hill. The office was in half of the first floor for guests. The other half was private, for storage of linens and supplies. Being on a water-access property, there was no time to drive into Espanola every time supplies were needed, so Charlene kept a good stock of what she knew by now were the essentials. There were two washers and two dryers to handle the heavy loads of laundering of the sheets and blankets supplied for the guests.

The water-treatment area was at the back of the first floor, where Charlene could hear Joe whistling some ditty or other. The previous owners said the well water was good and always tested clean, but the post Walkerton water disaster meant new rules for public drinking water so Charlene had state-of-the-art equipment installed, taking no risks that anyone, including herself, would get sick from drinking or cooking with bad water.

The house was up some stairs from the storage area and had a level back door walk-out to the cleared area and woods behind the house. During the season Charlene mainly used this door to get to her own garbage bin and to sneak outside so guests wouldn't see her before the office was open. There was a deck at the front of the house going the full 60' along the second-floor. She had a local contractor, who was looking for cash-in-hand in the slow season, build the covered deck so she could see the lake and be among the maple branches and pine boughs. They gave a lot of privacy and protection from the sun at the height of summer. Of course, for most of the time the resort was open, being outside meant mostly being in the one half of the deck that was screened-in, accessed from the kitchen through a patio sliding door.

This was not that time of year though. The bugs were gone, at least until the next late batch of black flies, usually in October. They were mostly just showy then, and didn't bite as much. The mosquitoes haven't been around since about the third week in August. From spring to summer, if a bug was out it would find her. She would be a bloody mess when the black flies got around her hair and neck while she was up a ladder or doing something where she couldn't swat at them. The mosquitoes weren't a bother during the day though because the wind coming across the lake could breeze through the trees along the front of the property. The low boughs had been cut by the previous owners and though she didn't like the idea at first, she quickly came to understand and appreciate the reasoning behind it. Charlene didn't spend much time outside at dusk when the mosquitoes were at their biting worst. She tried only going out then when she had to. If a guest needed something like a boat ride over to the landing or a replacement propane tank she provided for the barbeques, she sprayed herself liberally with Muskol, the product that seemed to work better than the others. She moved quickly and the return guests understood her rush, knowing how vulnerable she was to any biting insects. This, Charlene thought, was another thing she got from her Dad. He too could get quite puffy and have bad reactions to bug bites.

While waiting for Joe to finish his work, Charlene made a batch of biscuits from scratch. She threw in some raisins and fresh cranberries, liking the flavour pairing with the soup. It made her think of Thanksgiving flavours. She thought of how much more time the two of them could spend together when Joe would finally retire from his winter job and the resort would be closed after the Thanksgiving week-end.

Charlene liked having a man around the house. She smiled at the memory of the two of them taking a blanket to the cleared area in the woods behind the house a few years ago. It was on a fall day that was not unlike this one. They stretched out in the sun after taking off their clothes and making love. And that's what it really was then, the day she thinks they both realized they could be in love with each other. When the late sun started to chill them, Charlene started to get dressed but Joe stopped her and threw her clothes onto the blanket.

My boots good sir, said Charlene.

Ah yes, the tender toes, said Joe as he passed her the tall rubber boots she often wore. He put on his own hiking boots, gathered up the blanket over his shoulder, and they walked naked, hand-in-hand, toward the house.

If your guests could see you now Ms. Parker, they would be aghast, he said.

If your customers could see you now Mr. McFadden, they'd be asking for the same service, Charlene said.

Chapter 14

Bob

When he returned from a short paddle, disappointed he didn't catch any fish, he saw Charlie take Joe back across the lake. He didn't need his binoculars to recognize him. Who else wore a kilt around here? He thought it odd at first then came to appreciate the uniqueness of it and found he was disappointed when Joe didn't wear it. He also liked the Saturday evening ritual in the summer months when Joe would stand at the end of the long dock at the resort parking lot and play the bagpipes. He heard the pipes the first Saturday when he took possession of the cottage at the beginning of July last year. He just got settled in with a drink on the deck after moving his personal items into the furnished cottage when he heard the unmistakable sound of bagpipes being warmed up. He looked over at the resort but couldn't see where the sound was coming from. He looked down the lake and saw a man in full Scottish attire standing at the end of the long dock at the resort parking lot. By then the piping had begun and it carried on every Saturday night during the summer months just before dusk, for about 15 minutes. The guests at the resort seemed to enjoy it, getting in their boats and canoes and coming across the lake to get a closer look, or standing on the docks at or along the shore at the resort. They usually clapped when Joe stopped, though he was never sure whether it was out of appreciation for the music or because Joe was finished playing and got in his truck and drove off.

When he took his generator in for repairs a few weeks after that to the little shop not far down the highway, he realized the repair guy was the piper. It would be too much of a coincidence for him to see two tall, lean men in their late fifties with sparse gray hair, in the same area, wearing the same tartan kilt. He caught him just leaving the shop that was adjacent to a small square-timber house at the end of a long spit of land surrounded by Georgian Bay waters. He was friendly and introduced himself as Joe, and opened the shop back up so the generator could be wheeled in. He had the trouble sorted out within a few minutes and it was fixed on the spot, surprising him with the strength and speed of his hands and fingers. After that he saw Joe coming and going from the resort and thought he was doing repairs for Charlie. He saw them together at a restaurant in Little Current this spring though, and noticed a closeness between them. Seeing the way they looked at each other he put two and two together and realized they were a couple.

He jumped back from the desk nearly knocking his chair over when he heard footsteps outside. He saw Joe coming around the corner of the cottage along the deck to the front patio doors. He also saw that Joe was looking right at him through the glass of the door when he slammed down the top of his laptop before walking the few steps to the door.

Hello Bob, said Joe.

Hey Joe, he answered.

Sorry I startled you, Joe said. I thought I'd bring your whipper snipper back. It works just fine now. There was a bit of old line stuck where it shouldn't have been stuck.

You didn't need to bring it here. I could have come to get it, said Bob

I had some work to do at Charlene's so thought I would save you the bother, said Joe.

Charlene? asked Bob

Yes, said Joe.

Who's Charlene? asked Bob.

Charlene Parker, the owner of Kirk Lake Camp, you know, your neighbour across the lake, said Joe. Don't tell me you've not yet met her!

No. She always seems so busy. I thought her name was Charlie. The young guy in the yard at the Home Hardware in Espanola called her Charlie. I was telling him where to deliver a load of lumber I needed to fix my dock last fall and he said he knew where my cottage was since he delivered to Charlie at the resort all the time. He said she was really nice and let him launch his boat for free anytime, Bob said.

I remember correcting him by saying he must have meant he, but he said Charlie was a she.

Ah, said Joe starting to understand Bob's confusion. It's a nickname given to her a long time ago by a co-worker. He was into jazz and Charlie Parker Jr. When she changed her name back after her divorce, her co-worker couldn't resist the nickname. I never call her Charlie, knowing she prefers Charlene, so I forget that others do.

Was it a co-worker from Hamilton Police? I heard she used to be a detective, Bob asked.

"If you want to know more about