momentarily blinding him. Tony shivered. He should turn back and
go straight to the inn, but his gut told him he needed to see Joseph. The rain
eased up slightly as he pulled into Mohawk Territory.
Was that jackass mayor right? Would the parents blame him
for what had happened? They were young adults not children under his care
twenty-four-seven, but he felt responsible. A career and research grants seemed
like pittance when compared to the lives of two of the brightest students he’d
ever had. He’d gladly trade places with them if he could.
He took his left hand off the steering wheel and pushed his
hair off his face, back behind his ear. He should have tied it back, but his
head had been pounding when he’d left Ron’s office and he thought letting it
loose would help. Not likely with the stress he was under. He’d get it cut
first thing tomorrow. Enough was enough. God! How had things become so chaotic?
Tony frowned. He’d never considered needing an alibi. If you
hadn’t done anything wrong, why would you need one? How many people who lived
alone spent their time wondering if they had alibis in case they needed them?
More often than not—on television anyway—the good guy, erroneously accused on
circumstantial evidence, ended up in jail because he had no alibi. Well, he might
have one, but if he did, he wasn’t sure it was going to be much help.
He’d seen the light go out in Jackson’s window, but he
hadn’t seen Jackson, and he didn’t know whether or not Jackson had seen him. If
he had, he’d seen him on the beach around two o’clock in the morning, alone, in
the middle of the storm, bare-chested, looking like a madman. If that wasn’t
suspicious, he didn’t know what was. Hell, he’d consider himself guilty based
on the circumstantial evidence.
People would be looking to pin this on someone, and he was probably
the number one choice. If Tony mentioned he’d gone after the woman, then they’d
think he was crazy, and anything he said would be discredited. Guilty by reason of insanity? What a mess! Just how much
store would the coroner and the police put in Jackson’s statement if he had one?
He might be in big trouble here, and he was one hundred percent innocent.
The lights of Tyendinaga shone up
ahead, and he made a right turn onto the road that led to Joseph Smoke’s
two-story limestone house, one of the oldest houses on the reserve. He breathed
a sigh of relief when he saw the welcoming lights in the windows. Thank God
someone was home. He’d hate to have made the trip out here for nothing. He
should have called. He looked at his watch. Well, four-thirty was a little
early for supper. He’d be gone long before it was time to eat.
He parked the vehicle and ran up onto the covered porch. The
door held an intricately designed doorknocker, and he used it. The sound
reverberated. The door opened and a young blonde, several months pregnant by
the looks of her, stood in the doorway. Did he have the wrong house? Smoke was
almost eighty years old.
“Whatever brought you here in this weather must be
important.” The woman’s words were friendly, her smile inviting.
“I’m not sure I’m at the right place. I’m looking for Joseph
Smoke.”
She laughed and nodded. “You’ve got the right house. Come on
in. Papa’s bow hunting in the den.”
The words made no sense. Who bow hunts in the house? Tony
followed the woman down the hall.
“I’m Maggie, by the way, Joseph’s son Mike’s wife. They’re competing.”
She opened the door and the two men stood there facing the
forty-six inch television currently be used to showcase the electronic game
they we’re playing. The young man’s shot went wide, and Joseph laughed.
“Your family would go hungry if you had to feed them with
your hunting skills.”
“Yeah well, the province pays me well, and Maggie can get
lots of food for us all at the store. Sorry Pops, I’m a game warden,
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