Page 15 of Reading Between the Lines
“Anyhow, the Ganaraska River cuts through the town center, running north from the lake and Port Hope harbor. You can see it from Ivory Lace B&B if you have an east- or north-facing room. Do you have an east- or north-facing room?”
“Um…” I glanced at Diem. I’d honestly not looked out the window in the few short hours we’d been guests, and I’d always had a poor sense of direction, so even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered.
“West-facing,” Diem mumbled.
“Ah. Too bad. It’s a gorgeous view. Your accommodations are satisfactory, I assume?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“Good. Ivory is a lovely woman.”
“You were saying about the river?” Delaney needed a nudge before Diem contributed his raving review about the B&B.
“Yes. Sorry. I’m easily sidetracked lately. Forgive me.”
“Understandable.”
She turned to her son again, staring longingly into his pale, slack face. “The river cuts through the town and ventures north, heading right out into the middle of nowhere. Before it circumnavigates the Port Hope conservation area, there’s a dam. Just before the dam, through a densely wooded area, the river is narrower and the current much stronger. That’s where they found him, partly draped over a protruding rock—unconscious and barely alive.”
“Who found him, ma’am?”
She blinked a few times, whether clearing tears or the memory, I didn’t know. “A dog walker. Um… I can’t remember his name. I’m not sure if they told me.”
“It’s okay. Go on.”
“He was out and about early in the morning as the sun rose. There’s an old trail along the river. Scenic in good weather if you’re a hiker. The teens use it for snowmobiling in the winter and dirt biking in the summer.
“I guess the man’s dog noticed Weston first and barked, tugging the leash. The man pulled my boy from the water and called 911. He tried to wake him up but couldn’t. He said Westonwas colorless and so cold he was certain he was dead. When he searched for a pulse, he thought maybe something was there but feared it was wishful thinking. It was weak enough to cause doubt, so he started CPR in case it wasn’t too late.”
Delaney stopped to blow her nose and clear her throat.
I glanced at Diem, whose face was as impassive as ever. He rolled a hand, indicating I needed to move this along. I scowled, hoping to convey that this was exactly why I was taking the lead.
“Would you like to sit down?” I motioned to the only chair since the distraught mother looked dead on her feet.
“No, no. I’m fine.” She petted Weston’s hair, smoothing it back off his forehead. “My boy is brilliantly smart. Rather, he was. Straight As. He wanted to go to university to study journalism like his father. He wanted to travel the world and write stories about what he saw.”
She sighed. “He should not have been in those woods. He told me he was going to the library with his girlfriend before attending a meeting with the school newspaper at four. Weston was a stickler for attendance and kept a rigid schedule.”
“What day of the week was this?”
“A week ago yesterday. A Sunday. Weston was found Monday morning.”
“He had a meeting with the school newspaper on a Sunday?”
“Yes. It’s typical. They like to get their weekly paper out on the first day of the school week, so the group meets Sunday afternoon to finalize their pieces and get the printing done.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“Weston didn’t show up for the meeting. He didn’t come home that night either. The girlfriend was interviewed—she’s a flighty thing. Pretty but not much happening between the ears, if you catch my drift. Never liked her. She turned Weston stupid sometimes, and I had to keep reminding him to focus on his future and not his… teenage hormones.
“Anyhow, she claims they parted ways at three thirty that afternoon. For all she knew, he was going to the school to work on the newspaper. Like I said, Weston had no reason to be in those woods. It is nowhere near the school or the town library.”
“What did the police say?” Diem’s question emerged low and in a tone about as nonthreatening as he could make it.
“Oh, they brushed off my concern. They investigated the area where Weston was discovered and determined it was nowhere near where he went into the water. Obviously. The current in that river is atrocious. About two or three hundred yards down river, at a wider section, they found evidence that he’d likely lost his footing and slipped down a steep embankment.
“The Ganaraska is unbearably cold this time of year. Dangerously cold and violent. The mud along the embankment was partly frozen, preserving his slide into the river. They discovered his glasses there, too. Broken branches seemed to suggest he’d tried to save himself.
