“Connecticut has Candlewood Lake,” Devin noted. “When populations need water, I suppose that we, as human beings, are incredibly lucky that engineers have long figured out how to change even the landscape around us.”
“Pretty incredible. Now, if we can only figure out how to stop earthquakes and tornadoes,” Rocky said, shaking his head.
“Maybe they will, eventually,” Vickie murmured.
“We’re coming up on the water,” Griffin commented. “The water we need here, now, in Massachusetts,” he added, glancing at them dryly.
Vickie could see a number of police vehicles and a large equipment van drawn up at the end of the road ahead of them. Two divers were seated at the tail end of the van; the doors were open and they sat—half in and half out—of their suits, sipping coffee as they waited.
Griffin pulled the car off the road and parked it. They all got out. As they did so, a man hailed them. “Agents! And Miss Preston, of course. I’m Wendell Harper. Nice to meet you. David Barnes spoke highly of you all. I’m hoping we solve whatever this is together!”
Wendell Harper was a big man—a very big man. He was about six foot four, and while not in the least fat, he was solidly built. With his shirtsleeves rolled up, it was easy to see that his arms were composed of a weight lifter’s muscle. He was probably in his early forties with buzz-cut hair and a friendly, no-nonsense manner.
Introductions went around.
“They’re going to go down in a few minutes, though I’m not expecting to find anything. We’ve been in the last few days, searching the area where the phone was found,” Harper told them.
“But you’ve been expanding, right?” Vickie asked.
“Yes, we’ve been expanding, Miss Preston,” Harper said. “Thing is, a lot of people—when they hear that towns were flooded—think that there are whole watery cities down here. Sure, things were missed here and there. We find a lot of foundations. But it’s not as if there are fully standing houses—though I do understand that there is one in Candlewood Lake, not forgotten, but dropped while moving! But trees were cleared, bushes were cleared, areas were burned...not to mention that this area was as it is now almost ninety years. Water takes a toll in that kind of time.”
“We’re looking for...for a body that might have been there a short amount of time,” Vickie said.
He nodded. “Any of you dive? I mean, you have to know what you’re doing—we’re not instructors. But if you do know what you’re doing, we can always use more sets of eyes. May be your one and only opportunity, you know, out here on a sanctioned police dive. Of course, we have gone in before—research with professors out from Worcester and Boston. But you never know when the powers that be will sanction another such situation.”
Vickie was stunned to see that Griffin, Rocky and Devin piped up immediately, all saying that they were divers.
“How?” Vickie demanded, looking at the three of them. “This is Massachusetts. You’re supposed to be skiers!”
“Well, I can’t ice skate to save my life,” Devin told her, “but I learned to dive in Salem in high school—lobstering is a big deal for us.”
“And you, too?” Vickie asked Griffin.
“Nope. I never caught a lobster,” Griffin said, glancing over at Rocky.
“We had an opportunity to become certified through work,” Rocky said.
“Oh, not fair!” Vickie said.
“Well, then, if this makes it any better,” Harper told her, “the water is very cold—very, very cold. These guys have some major dry suits. You can use the van for your changing room, those who are coming.”
“I guess I’ll just be up here,” Vickie said. She looked at Harper hopefully. “Unless...this isn’t like Florida or a cruise, or anything? Some dive, some snorkel...”
“Why not?” Harper said. “You’re going to need dive suits. Like I said, it’s cold—cold as a witch’s teat. Hey, it is Massachusetts, huh?”
“You just happen to be prepared for us to dive?” Griffin asked.
“Nope. Talked to Barnes for a while yesterday. You’d mentioned to him on the last case you were working together that you and a number of your associates had your dive certificates.” He grinned. Proud of himself.
Kyle Perry—the diver who had found the phone—was the one to take their group in hand, handing out equipment. He introduced them to Belinda Carvel, his partner. They both appeared to be in their midthirties, helpful and determined, and not at all averse to having fellow divers search the water.
“It’s hard as hell searching the reservoir. There’s ninety-plus years of tremendous natural growth down there now. But you’ll see.”
Vickie fervently wished that she knew how to dive. She was grateful, however, for the suit she was given.
Especially after they got into the water.
It might be summer, but that did little to combat the initial shock of the water. Even in the suit, she could feel the brutal cold.
They’d received a bit more information on the area of the water they were searching as they headed out in the police boat.
While diving wasn’t allowed, fishing was. The thing that mattered most was that the Quabbin supplied drinking water for well over two million people. That meant that it was important that it not be contaminated. Fishing was allowed from the shore, and a limited number of fishing boats were allowed out on the water, but they had to have an intact Quabbin boat seal and it had to pass inspection at the boat launch area. For those who loved nature, it was a fantasyland.
The bird-watching was fantastic, and if they were lucky, sometime while they were in the area, they would see moose, foxes, deer, porcupine, weasels, coyotes, black bear—and maybe even a wildcat. Even as he talked, Harper, who wasn’t a diver and wasn’t going in—What me? I’m an old land-loving cop. I don’t go freezing my ass off with the youngsters—pointed out a loon, and then a bald eagle.
The deepest part of the Quabbin was about one hundred and fifty feet—the median about fifty. There were shallower areas—the water was about forty feet deep where they would be that day.
Not that deep, Vickie thought. She wasn’t a diver, but she was a really good swimmer.
Kyle had chosen their dive location. Using a GPS system, he had them right over the spot where Alex Maple’s phone had been found. Before he went over—followed by Griffin, Rocky and Devin—he told them that they’d already been over the area, and that they were now searching a bit south of where the phone had actually been found.
Belinda had stayed behind to follow Vickie into the water; apparently, they seemed to feel that she was most likely to need help.
That was okay.
She might be!
But once she had adjusted to the temperature, she was fine, though she wasn’t sure at all if there was anything any of them could find, or if their time was being spent in any useful way.
Time and nature had taken their toll; the water was filled with various plants, some growing nearly to the surface.
She could see far below her, but not well, and so caught a big breath and dived down low. She noticed, just vaguely—and perhaps because she did have some distance—where a road had once been, leading to what appeared to be the remnants of a foundation.
She surfaced for air, and went back down, shooting for the depth.
She saw Griffin, Rocky and Devin ahead; they were basically walking along the bottom, led along by Kyle...searching.
She turned and kicked and went the other way. There seemed to be a long string of some kind of algae ahead of her. She surfaced for air, and went back down on the other side of the algae.
And that was went she saw it; or saw something.
Something that seemed to catch just a ray of the sun...and glint.
Vickie desperately wished that she knew how to dive. She surfaced for a huge gulp of air and went back down.
The others had just been in this area, she thought.
They had moved through it; they had touched the old bricks that might have once been part of a stone wall around an old farmstead.
Some seemed to have fallen. And beneath one...