Elements

Ginger had filled in for one of Lacey's normal assistant coaches several times and had enjoyed contributing what she could when her schedule permitted, so when Lacey had mentioned the possibility of accompanying the team to the invitational volleyball tournament, Ginger had tentatively agreed.

"What are the exact dates?" Ginger asked.

"The tournament starts on the ninth, but our first match isn't until the tenth," Lacey told her. "I'm confident that our girls will make the finals, so you should plan on being in Myrtle Beach until the fourteenth."

"Those dates shouldn't be a problem," Ginger confirmed. "Who else do you have lined up to help out?"

"I'm hoping to get Toby Davis to agree to be my scout," Lacey said, with an obvious smile in her voice.

"Give it up, Lace. I've told you that I am no longer interested in Professor Davis in that way."

Lacey laughed and said, "Whether you are or not, he's still one of the best analysts of the other teams' strengths and weaknesses either of us have ever worked with. But seriously, you're really backing off without ever really even trying to hook up with Toby? He's hotter than ever."

"I know he is," Ginger said in frustration. "The problem is that the reason that he is 'hotter than ever', as you put it, is because he's head over heels for the woman who is grooming him now."

"How do you know this?" Lacey asked, disbelieving.

"He introduced me to her a few weeks ago when I ran into them at Venice Beach. Lacey, I know that I still look as good in a bikini as I did when you and I were modeling them to make spending money while in school. The new woman in Professor Davis' life made me feel pre-pubescent in her presence. Plus, anyone who sees them together would know that he sees the sun rise over her right shoulder and set over her left. He is as completely in love as you will ever see a man."

Lacey considered what her friend had mentioned, and then said, "Would you, or anyone you know purposely make a man that you were interested in more attractive to other women? Maybe she's just some sort of style coach for him or something like that."

Lacey laughed and continued, "Remember how we teased Toby about wearing sweatpants and a shirt to play beach volleyball while everyone else was wearing swimsuits? If anyone ever needed a style coach, it's definitely Toby Davis."

"I remember," said Ginger. "I also remember that we both noticed how even being covered top to bottom in ugly grey sweats, his being toned and athletic was still obvious. Now he's got great-looking hair and he's wearing clothes that not only fail to disguise that he is a hunk, but they also accentuate the fact. As far as why a woman would purposely make her man more attractive, she would have to have complete confidence in her man's love and devotion to her. She worships him, and Toby Davis certainly worships her. She has nothing to worry about, believe me. I've seen the way they look at each other."

"Do you know what she does for a living?" Lacey asked. "I mean is there an intellectual synergy between them, do they have much in common, or is the attraction purely a physical one?"

"He introduced her as a doctor, but I can't recall if that was a medical title or some other academic field," Ginger said. "Wait, she did say that she worked for the United States Government. I remember that much."

"That means that she probably isn't a medical doctor," Lacey said. "There aren't many of those employed by the government."

"But it would imply that her intellect is probably close to being on a par with a college professor's," Ginger said.

"Maybe," agreed Lacey. "She would have to be more than just beautiful to land Toby Davis. We've both seen dozens of the most beautiful girls and women in Southern California make their moves on him and get politely ignored. I'm just disappointed that you never got a crack at him. I think you two would have been great together."

"Lacey, once you meet this woman, you won't believe that anyone else could ever be a match for Toby other than her. You'll just know, as I did, that they are the real deal. I'm sure it's obvious to anyone who ever sees them together. That's why I am not disappointed. I know that even if Toby and I would have hooked up, as soon as this woman came along, he would belong to her and I would be left in the dust. Celia Reid and Toby Davis are soulmates if there ever were ones."

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Lacey thought out loud. "Do you know where she is from?"

"They never mentioned," said Ginger, "but she did have a sort of southern 'twang' when she spoke. Not real strong, but sort of in the background of her speech."

Lacey sounded distracted as she said: "I wonder..."

"You wonder what?"

"Just a second," said Lacey. "Ah! Found it. Do you remember the NCAA tournament our senior year?"

"Most of it. Why?"

"Who did we play in the finals?" Lacey asked.

"We played Baylor, didn't we?"

"Exactly," said Lacey, "and Baylor had that All-American on their team that almost beat us single-handed. Remember her?"

"Vaguely. Why?"

"Her name was Cile Reid. Could Cile be a nickname for Celia?" asked Lacey.

Ginger laughed and told her friend, "Well, if it's the same person, you better hope that Baylor isn't playing in the Coastal Invitational Tournament or you can be certain that Toby Davis won't be helping you scout the other teams."

"If it's the same person, I think I'm going to be scouting her," said Lacey. "For a friend, of course."

Chapter Two

"We thought he might have fallen overboard initially," Ferry Captain Tim Truslow explained. "All the passengers had already disembarked and the crew searched the entire ship for the driver of the pick-up. Since the keys were still in it, Nathan considered moving it to the parking lot, but we don't have another trip until the morning, so I told him to wait and see if the driver showed up."

"So, how long after you docked until someone discovered the body?" asked Cheboygan police officer Bradley Werth. He was waiting for the detectives to arrive at the ferry to take over the investigation, so he thought it best to start trying to get some of the preliminary questions asked and answered.

"It was probably just over half an hour," Captain Truslow said. "A paper coffee cup got blown under the truck by the wind and when Nathan didn't see it come out on the other side, he looked under the truck and that's when he saw the body. I crawled under to check for a pulse, but the body hasn't been touched otherwise. What you see there is exactly the way we found him."

"And no one spoke to the driver, correct?" asked Werth.

"Other than hand signals to direct him on where to park on the deck and turn off his engine, there was no further communication with him. The lake doesn't make for a very sociable environment on the deck at this time of year. That's why everyone heads inside as soon as they get on board."

Werth saw two detectives approaching, along with a pair of fire department EMTs pushing a gurney.

"Thanks, Captain, I'll leave the rest of the questions for the detectives. If the truck and uniform the guy is wearing are genuine, you're also going to be dealing with the FBI, so I won't bother you further. Thanks for your cooperation."

Werth walked out to meet the detectives and filled them in on the situation. As he started his patrol car and listened to dispatch assigning him his next call, he watched the EMTs begin to examine the body.

"No sign of trauma," said Elijah Brown after the body had been pulled from under the truck. He was senior over his partner, Becky Aiken, so he always took the lead on their calls.

"You thinking a coronary or something similar?" One of the detectives asked.

"The cause of death will have to be determined by one of the doctors at the hospital," said Elijah. "I can only let you know that there are no signs of physical injury to the body."

"Eli, look at his fingernails."

This request came from his partner, who had been assisting Elijah with getting the dead body straightened out for placement onto a gurney. Rigor mortis had begun while the body had been in a fetal position under the truck but it wasn't in a rigid state yet.

"Mees' lines?" asked Elijah. "On all ten fingernails. He's also got those blister-looking sores on both hands. Becky, let's check his toenails too."

Becky unlaced and removed one of Vincent Barrow's boots while her partner did the other one. Once the socks were removed to expose the feet, they each examined the toenails.

"The lines are even more evident on the toenails," said Becky.

"I agree," said Elijah. He then rose and faced the two detectives, "As I said, a doctor at the hospital will need to provide the official cause of death, but I am pretty confident that it will be ruled as being due to arsenic poisoning."

"Arsenic poisoning?" asked the detectives in unison. They looked at each other and then the senior detective, Wade Sloan continued, "You think this guy was murdered?"

"We're not saying that he was murdered," Becky interrupted. "The poisoning could have been caused by any number of things. Have there been other reports of anything like this on the island?"

"Bois Blanc Island is in Mackinac County," said Sloan. "We need to notify the Mackinac County Sheriff and see what they can find out. It looks like this case will be in their jurisdiction. Are you going to transport the body to McLaren?"

The two EMTs had resumed preparing the body for transport by strapping it to a gurney. As they each took an end of the gurney and began raising it, Elijah said, "Yeah, the coroner doesn't transport dead bodies any longer so the morgue at McLaren Medical Center is where we're headed."

"Okay," said Sloan. "We're going to be here for a while. We'll get a crime scene unit out just in case there is something in the truck that might be relevant. Let the hospital know that someone from either our agency or the Mackinac County Sheriff's office will be in contact with them about the autopsy."

As the gurney started rolling towards the waiting ambulance, Elijah said, "We'll let them know. Be sure to let your crime scene people know that we suspect poisoning. They'll need to process things accordingly."

Sloan had already started dialing his cell phone. He paused to speak to his partner, "You better notify the FBI. They'll probably want a piece of this too since the guy worked for the federal government."

~~~

Jake saw his wife's name as the incoming caller on his cell phone, "Now's not a good time, Jess..."

"Jake, you need to get to St. Vincent's Hospital," Jessie cried. "Our kids have all been poisoned. Probably you and I too."

"Poisoned?" Jake said.

He was standing on the porch of the bunkhouse where his side of the conversation with his wife was overheard by the Montana State Trooper and two Tribal Police officers who had responded to his report of three dead bodies on the ranch. They were awaiting the arrival of the county coroner, and all their attention turned to Jake's conversation.

"Jessie, what do you mean by poisoned?" Jake implored.

"Jake, the school principal was concerned about Ginny's behavior. She thought it might be a symptom of mercury poisoning so she had the school nurse run some neurological tests on her and they're convinced that something has gotten into our kids. They asked if the kids had been playing with any thermometers or anything else with mercury in it. Jake, they think the exposure is extensive for the symptoms to be as serious as they are. We're in an ambulance on our way to the hospital now, and Jake I am scared."

"Me too, Jessie, but not just about the kids. Phil, Josh, and that new kid Pepe were found dead in the bunkhouse. What if they were exposed to the same thing as the kids?"

Jessie gasped, and Jake could sense her rising fear, "Jessie, I'm leaving now. It will take me a little over two hours to get there..."

"Jake, are you okay to drive? Are you having any more numbness?"

"I'll be fine, Jess. You just get to the hospital and get checked out along with the kids. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay, Jake. We all love you."

"I love you all too. Kiss the kids for me. Bye."

Jake found the three law enforcement officers facing him when he put his cell phone away. He addressed them as a group and asked, "Could those men in there have died from mercury poisoning?"

"Tell us what you know," the state trooper said.

Jake relayed what little information he had received from his wife concerning the suspicions of their kids' school. He described the behavioral changes that they had been witnessing in their kids, as well as in some of the ranch hands lately.

"Are you aware of any mercury being stored anywhere on the ranch?" one of the tribal officers asked.

Jake pointed to a large mounted thermometer next to the bunkhouse door and said, "That's the only place I am aware of and it's intact so there shouldn't be any mercury exposure from it. Who can we get out here to test things? Maybe mercury is getting into the water, either in the creek or in the aquifer. Shit, hold on a second."

Jake pulled out his cell phone and found a recently called number. He dialed it again and then put the call on speaker so the other men could hear the conversation he was about to have.

"Phelps."

"Doctor Phelps, this is Jake out at Dryhead Ranch. Have you run any tests on the elk you picked up here this morning?"

"Only the prions test," the veterinarian said. "It came back negative, so we know that chronic wasting disease is not a factor."

"Can you test for mercury next?" asked Jake.

"Jake, what makes you suspect mercury?"

Jake explained the recent deaths at the ranch and the suspicions of mercury poisoning related to his kids.

"Okay, Jake, first thing, have one of the officers there drive you to the hospital. You need to be with your family so that you all can get checked out. While I'm running the tests on the elk here, I am going to have someone from the health department heading to the ranch. They'll be able to test the water in your wells and the creek. Nobody should drink anything but bottled water until the tests confirm your water sources are safe. Is Herman on his way to the ranch?"

Herman Cline was the county coroner, so Jake could confirm that he was on his way there.

"Good," said Phelps. "I'll call him as soon as we're off this call. We can coordinate our testing efforts and hopefully identify any potential source for the mercury contamination or whatever this is. Please call me with an update once you get to the hospital."

"I'll do that. Thanks, Dr. Phelps."

When the call ended, the state trooper said, "Let me check in with my watch commander. I should be able to give you a ride to the hospital.

Jake shook his hand to try and alleviate the numbness that had returned. He nodded to the trooper and said, "Thanks, but I think I can drive there by myself. If my wife is in the ambulance with the kids, we're going to need at least one vehicle at the hospital."

He turned to the other officers and said, "Please fill Dr. Cline in when he gets here. Ask him to run any tests that he feels are needed, especially on any of the other staff still here."

"Count on it," said one of the tribal police officers. "I have family living just on the other side of the western boundary of the ranch. I want to know that they are safe too."

Jake thanked them and headed directly to his pick-up truck. His dust trail was all that they could see of him within seconds.

Bad Pass Road frequently lived up to its name. Rutted, with a surface that alternated between slippery mud and dry loose gravel, depending upon the weather, the road had been created by the repeated trips of horse-drawn wagons between the ranch and the closest settlement of Pryor, Montana. It had several hairpin curves without signs to warn the traveler of their location, or guard rails to help protect the ignorant traveler who happened upon them too fast.

Jake Harris didn't lack knowledge of where the first curve was, or lack respect for how slowly to approach it. What he did suddenly lack was the motor control in his body that would allow him to press down on his brake pedal with either foot or the feelings in his hands that would have allowed him to steer the truck and stay on the road.

His seatbelt kept Jake from being ejected from the truck as it rolled down the steep embankment and the driver's side door flew open. The airbag held him firmly in place so that the collapsing roof on the truck only had to travel a few inches before crushing the top of his skull and breaking his neck. His unconscious body would never feel the fire that eventually erupted from the damaged truck, and provided the only indication of the accident for the state trooper to see fifteen minutes later.

~~~

Cile picked up her cell phone at the sound of the notification.

TOBY: I hope that you don't mind a brief interruption to allow me to inform you that I miss you.

CILE: I miss you too, Professor, and your interruptions are always welcome.

TOBY: Have you ever been to Myrtle Beach?

CILE: Once, several years ago. Why?

TOBY: I have been asked to assist our women's volleyball team with the scouting of the other teams at a tournament that they have been invited to and wanted to know if you would like to come with me.

CILE: When is the tournament?

TOBY: The second week in June sometime. I can get the exact dates and send them to you.

CILE: That's okay for right now. I just wanted to make sure it was far enough in the future for me to get the time-off request approved if necessary. Do you know what other schools are in the tournament?

TOBY: No, but for some reason the coach wanted me to know that Baylor would not be one of the teams there.

Cile was laughing, so it took her a minute to respond.

CILE: It's probably because you mentioned to her that you might have me accompany you. UCLA's coach is Lacey King, right?

TOBY: Right. Do you two know each other?

CILE: We've never been formally introduced, but we've met on the volleyball court a few times. Someone must have heard you mention my name and she put two and two together.

TOBY: That's right. You were an All-American at Baylor for three years.

CILE: Yep. So, if Baylor was playing in the tournament, it would be a conflict of interest for you to scout for UCLA.

TOBY: Not really. I have no ties to Baylor myself.

CILE: Let me put it to you the way that Lacey sees it, Sweetie. It would not be in your BEST INTEREST to scout for UCLA if Baylor was in the tournament.

Now Toby had to take a break to laugh before replying.

TOBY: Got it, and you're right. YOU are my best interest.

CILE: And you are mine, Professor. Go ahead and get the details for the tournament and we can discuss them tonight.

TOBY: I'll e-mail Lacey as soon as I get the load out of the dryer. The buzzer just went off.

CILE: I heard it too. I'll be up there in a few minutes to help you.

TOBY: That's okay, I can handle the folding of a few towels.

CILE: And I can let you. I don't have any calls scheduled for the next hour, and maybe I don't want to keep missing you if I don't have to.

TOBY: Then, by all means, come on up and un-miss me so I can un-miss you too.

"How's this?" Cile said from the doorway.

Toby glanced around at the sound of her voice and smiled as he watched her begin to lower the straps of her sundress while walking towards him. Cile was like one of those hunting cats you see on the nature shows; sleek, sinuous, and gorgeous. She was wearing nothing but her panties by the time she reached his chair and settled onto his lap.