Trapped on Cedar Trails: A Phoebe Clay Mystery, #4

By K.L. Abrahamson

"Beautifully set against the backdrop of British Columbia's coast, Abrahamson weaves a story of suspense and family dynamics in this fast-paced novel of death and deception."

— Judy Penz Sheluk, bestselling author of the Marketville and Glass Dolphin Mystery series.

 

A fearless amateur sleuth must choose between safety and justice when murder threatens a student outing in this gritty novel filled with mystery and adventure.  

 

The discovery of a woman's body trapped in driftwood off a small, west coast town turns a five-day photography class into a nightmare for Phoebe Clay, her sister Becca, and her niece Alice. Did the woman fall off a boat or has something worse happened? Either way, Becca wants to return home immediately, but Alice, a student in the class, won't hear of it. Phoebe just wants to stay out of the mother-daughter drama.

 

The specter of murder hangs over the family as they join the other students at an isolated fish cannery guesthouse on the coast of British Columbia. Then on their first night, Alice spots ghostly figures outside and on the first morning, Phoebe finds a dead grizzly bear with parts removed on the cannery's shore. She doesn't want to get involved, but there's something wrong at the Bella Vista Cannery Guesthouse, and someone is not who they say they are.

 

Against her better judgment, she begins quiet enquiries while trying to keep her sister and Alice safely uninvolved. But not knowing who to trust means answers come at a price. When Alice decides to pursue her own risky investigation, events take a sharp turn, revealing an insidious plot that threatens the lives of everyone Phoebe holds dear.

 

On the run on the cannery's treacherous, rain-soaked, night-shrouded cedar trails, Phoebe and her family will face the greatest danger they've ever met—brutal foes determined to ensure the family doesn't survive to reveal the cannery's secrets.

 

Derringer and Crime Writers of Canada Award of Excellence nominee K.L. Abrahamson offers up the daring fourth installment of the Phoebe Clay Mysteries.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Twisted Root Publishing
• Release date: Sep 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781927753842

Book preview

1

The rumble of six lanes of traffic came through the open patio door, obliterating the hum of Phoebe Clay’s oscillating fan. The living room of the nineth-floor, five-hundred-square-feet condo she’d bought in a ten-story building outside Vancouver seemed to hang right over the Trans-Canada Highway and vibrate with the noise. Which made it kind of hard to concentrate on the book she was reading—how many times had she tried to read this page?

She’d close the patio door to cut the noise and smell of exhaust, but the alternative was to live in a sauna—no—make that one of those easy-bake ovens she and her younger sister, Becca, had played with as kids. The broad glass windows that had allowed the realtor to describe the condo as feeling bright and spacious now acted like an incandescent lightbulb to heat the apartment in the unseasonable heat. Sure, it was summer, but July on the west coast of Canada was never forty-two degrees Celsius so no one bothered with AC.

Until now.

She fanned herself, wished her already short bob of gray-blonde hair was shorter, and stood to stand by the fan in the open door. She didn’t have to go far—the miniscule living area with her apartment-sized (read tiny and overpriced) leather love seat barely had space for her favorite, caramel-colored chair. The poor thing was almost out the sliding glass door on the patio. It was a good thing she’d never had an issue with vertigo.

She’d placed a pan of cold water in front of the fan in hopes of cooling things down, but so far the trick she’d seen in India didn’t seem to work any better here than it had there. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Lord love a duck, what she wouldn’t do to be cool!

She’d thought she’d left sweating behind in Southeast Asia. Instead it seemed like she’d brought the insufferable heat home with her. So much for coming home and leaving all the bad stuff behind.

Who was she kidding? The heat wasn’t what had sent her home with her tail between her legs. Nope, that had come from almost dying. And the need to heal things with Becca. Not to mention find something to fill her life.

The trouble was, since leaving Asia, her world had narrowed down to her sister and niece and this increasingly claustrophobic five-hundred-square-foot space. What did a washed-up teacher do with her life?

Her cell phone buzzed behind her with a spooky Joker laugh that Alice, her niece, had downloaded onto Phoebe’s phone as a joke. Alice had left Phoebe to figure out how to change it back, but so far she hadn’t bothered. The ridiculous sound certainly caught her attention. It also bugged the heck out of Becca, Alice’s mother, whenever she heard it. And while Phoebe might be trying to make amends with her sister, she didn’t want Becca to think she could always have things her way.

No way that was going to happen.

Hello, Alice, she said into the phone, reading the call display.

Auntie Bee? Alice’s plaintive, now fifteen-year-old voice came over the phone. She’d had her birthday in June and had left behind even more of the little girl Phoebe loved.

Phoebe looked at the phone. Alice only called her Auntie Bee when she wanted something. The rest of the time it was the more adult Aunt Bee, though Phoebe would have dearly loved the girl to keep calling her Auntie.

Yeesss, she said cautiously, knowing what was to follow.

Oh good. What are you doing?

Standing in my living room trying to get cool.

The kid clearly wanted something and it was important, given Alice wasn’t getting right to the point.

So you’re home…

Where else would I be? I’m to live out the remainder of my life imprisoned in a concrete tower like Rapunzel. If I don’t melt first.

The silence was deafening.

Still not liking the apartment, huh?

It’s pretty small… Phoebe said, pacing out the three steps it took to cross the four-by-six oriental, red-and-blue carpet that was all that was needed to cover the room’s hardwood floor.

It has great light and a super mountain view!

You sound like my realtor, Phoebe grumped. But the view of the Golden Ears mountains was pretty nice… It’s tiny and you know it. I feel like just emptying my backpack filled it up. And there were so many other places to see in the world…

Well… what would you say if I could take you away from all that?

Phoebe could almost see Alice holding her breath. This was the ask. The favor the kid wanted from her.

Do tell? She poured herself a glass of water with ice from the fancy-dancy fridge door and settled her hip against the granite kitchen counter.

If it wasn’t so hot, she could almost like the place. She had liked it when she bought it. It might be small, but it was functional and it was the perfect pied-à-terre here in Canada when she decided to go traveling again.

When she could risk her relationship with Becca by doing so.

So it would be a really big help if you’d say yes. You’d be helping us all out a bunch and it would get you out of your apartment… it’s probably cooler there, too.

At the word cool, Phoebe dragged herself back from her thoughts and realized she’d missed something. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Start again. Cooler sounds good, but just what are you talking about?

Aunt Bee!

There it was. The teenage attitude in spades. Phoebe could practically hear the eye roll.

"I’m talking about Bella Vista. Weren’t you listening?"

Frankly, no.

The photography program—through Emily Carr—the one I won a scholarship to? It’s going to be canceled because they don’t have enough chaperones with experience working with teenagers. They think they need people with more experience than parents.

Phoebe choked on a sip of water. Becca would love that explanation.

So they want me instead of your mother? She had to work hard to stop the smirk.

The sigh through the phone would have made most adults cringe, but not Phoebe. After twenty-five years as a high school teacher, she’d pretty much seen and heard everything.

They said if you come, Mom can come, too, and that solves our chaperone issue with one adult to spare. Please, Aunt Bee. You know how important this is to me—to all of us students!

It would get her out of this apartment and it would be a change of scenery. She might even feel like she could breathe again instead of like she was living in a terrarium. That was the thing, since she’d come home. She appreciated her time with Becca and Alice, but she couldn’t look to them to fill her life. It wasn’t what she wanted—to live vicariously. And she sure as heck didn’t want them to resent having her around. Apparently, at this moment, Alice didn’t.

She looked at the phone and grinned. The kid pulled tricks on Phoebe. It was time she got her own back.

Well, I’ll have to consult my calendar… and your mother, of course. She’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t quite consider me trustworthy as far as you’re concerned and now you’re asking me to protect not only you, but other students. It may take me a couple of days to sort things out…

Aunt Bee! The course starts Friday! And we need to get up there. The drive takes two days!

Really? You mean this is the course you’ve been talking about for months. And you need me.

Yes. There was a lovely sigh to the answer.

And you’ll owe me big-time afterward. Phoebe grinned. She really shouldn’t be this mean, but darn it all, her favorite niece had been starting to take her for granted since Phoebe had come home.

Yes.

All right, then. Now that we’ve got things sorted out, maybe you can put your mom on the phone. She’s there, right? Phoebe’s gaze swept around the apartment and landed on the small fern she had bought to add some life to the sterile space. Hopefully it could survive a week in this heat.

Phoebe. Becca’s calm voice came through the phone. She was ten years younger than Phoebe’s fifty-eight but her conservative outlook on life sometimes made her seem much older.

Did I make her beg enough? Put her through the wringer?

You did good. Kid needs to appreciate all the things we do for her.

Damn straight. And I take it all my paperwork went through okay?

With your credentials, it was a piece of cake and they’re happy to get you. Nice of you to agree to do this so that I could come along, Becca’s snide came through the phone.

You heard that, did you? I couldn’t help myself. But the good news is that I’m packed. Stoney-the-pack is waiting by the door. Phoebe glanced over at the weather-worn canvas backpack that had treated her so well in Southeast Asia.

Then we’ll be there in half an hour. You still okay with taking your car? She rushed on, not waiting for Phoebe’s answer. But… I—I want you to remember. You are not to go running off placing my daughter or any of the other students in danger. Understand?

The heat of the apartment suddenly disappeared in a chill and all of the old resentments crowded into Phoebe’s head. Becca’s unsupported accusations. Becca’s and Alice’s very real abandonment of Phoebe. After India, Phoebe had thought she might never see her family again. Cambodia had given her a reason to hope. Becca’s question made it pretty clear that regardless of all the things Becca had said to heal their relationship, there still wasn’t trust between them.

Phoebe fought back the desire to simply slam down the phone and end the call. Instead she bit back everything she felt like saying. Like how Becca was a terrier who just wouldn’t let things go. Like Becca might have walked away once, but Phoebe could do that, too. Like Phoebe had never done anything purposely to place anyone in danger, and if Becca couldn’t recognize that, then she could damn well get someone else to chaperone.

But this was family.

You know it, she said, sighing inwardly. It was going to be a long week.

2

Thick cloud swathed the gravel mountain road down to Bella Vista. The road switched back again and Becca once more grabbed the Subaru’s dashboard and hung on, her long, blonde hair swaying as if Phoebe was slaloming around a race course instead of only going twenty-five kilometers an hour. But with the low cloud covering the mountains and trees of Tweedsmuir Park and the steep cliffs on either side of the twisting road, it was no surprise Becca was nervous. Phoebe would be nervous, too, if she wasn’t driving. Alice, as blonde and fair as her mother, was in the back seat blithely napping with a satisfied smile on her face amid a sea of candy wrappers and Styrofoam baked good containers from the little restaurant they’d stopped at in Anaham Lake. The place had been touted as making the best cinnamon buns in the Chilcotin. The car interior actually smelled like a bakery.

Phoebe didn’t know how much competition the restaurant proprietress got, but the luscious aftertaste of cinnamon and sugar suggested it wouldn’t matter. They’d been darn good buns and the litter of empty containers testified to that fact.

Another river rushed beneath a bridge as the car tires rumbled across the wooden platform. Barely visible through the mist, towering cedar trees draped with lichen and moss surrounded the road. Bella Vista was a smaller, more out of the way version of the better-known Bella Coola. While Bella Coola was on a regular BC ferry route just off the Burke Channel and had an airport, Bella Vista sat twenty miles farther up Burke Channel where it joined with Dean Channel. As a result it could only be reached by private boat or the arduous trip down the washed-out, pot-holed gravel track that was described as a road. Goat track might be more appropriate.

But by Alice’s GPS and Becca’s paper map, they were almost out of the mountains to the town itself. From there, they’d park the car and be picked up to spend the week at the intensive creative photography course that Alice had begged, pleaded, and cajoled to go to. The kid was going to be the youngest participant as most of the students were seniors in high school or college level. Alice’s photography club instructor at her high school had been impressed enough with her work that he’d written her a glowing letter of recommendation for the scholarship application. Alice seemed to think that was what had got her into the class, but from the portfolio Alice had managed to pull together after the trip to India, Phoebe was pretty sure it was the kid’s images that had done the trick.

But hey, she wasn’t going to say that and gum up the kid’s head with compliments she might not deserve. Leave it to the professionals to comment on Alice’s work.

The switchback road seemed to ease out its tangles and settle into a valley beneath the clouds that let loose a downpour. A foaming river, logjams, and seething white rapids ran perilously close to the road on their way to the ocean. The rain misted the cedar, spruce, and hemlock. More rain sheeted the road and the Subaru’s windshield.

"I’ll give you this, Alice. You weren’t lying. It is cooler here than Vancouver."

Mmm… what? Alice shoved herself up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her blonde hair tinted pink at the ends—a new affectation that Alice had used babysitting money to pay for and that had horrified Becca—was matted around her face.

I think we’re almost there. What do you think, Becca?

The map clutched in Becca’s white-knuckled hands rustled as she took her eyes off the road and considered the directions. The best I can figure, this is the Tatleocosheen River. Bella Vista sits at the river mouth. We’re just a few minutes away. Maybe fifteen? She eased back in her seat as if consciously relieving her tension now that they were off the mountainside.

The Subaru jounced across another pothole that Phoebe hadn’t noticed and they all banged their heads on the ceiling.

Darn thing could have swallowed the car, Phoebe muttered, feeling Becca’s evil eye, but then the road noticeably improved and a few small, weather-stained houses sprang up on either side. It looks like we’re reaching civilization again.

I suppose houses mean civilization. Becca said as she crumpled the map on her lap, but her tone denied it.

Mo-om! Don’t you dare say that anywhere people can hear you!

Becca glanced over her shoulder and sighed. You’re right. Sorry. She rubbed her eyes and forehead. It’s just the drive has been long. I’ve got a headache.

Phoebe felt her sister’s glance as if Phoebe’s driving was the problem. She tightened her hands on the steering wheel. No one ever gave any consideration to the strain of driving straight through over two days with only a brief stop to sleep in Williams Lake. But at least the road had widened. They even passed a couple of pickup trucks heading in the other direction. Then the trees shoved back from the sides of the road to reveal fields of tall grass bent double in the rain, fenced in by rain-stained rail fences. The fields gradually transitioned to a broad expanse of reeds as the river widened. Here and there gnarled, naked trees sat close by the river, their thick, twisted branches reaching toward the road.

Alice wiped the steam off the inside of her window and peered outside. Those are weird-looking trees. Photogenic, though. Going to be hard to get photos in this kind of weather.

I thought this was a creative photography class. You just need to get creative. Besides, I seem to recall that amongst all that equipment you needed was rain protection for your camera. Am I right? Phoebe said.

But the kid was right. The trees could have been used in half a dozen western movies where someone was strung up or in movies about medieval times and witch hunts. She could imagine the hooded, hanging figures, their stockinged feet still twitching.

Phoebe yanked her attention back to the road and glanced at Alice in the rearview mirror.

Alice frowned out at the rain. This much rain, I might shrink.

The upside is I won’t have to buy you new clothes for school. Becca smiled over her shoulder, apparently relaxing now that they were out of the mountains and enjoying the horror on her daughter’s face.

Yup. Everything was normal. Or at least as normal as it could be at the moment. Phoebe just hoped it would stay that way. There had been a tension in Becca that had only increased as they got farther from home.

Phoebe glanced back at the creepy trees through the rearview mirror and then focused on the road in front of her. There were no witches and no hangings and nothing to be tense about. She was here as a chaperone, which meant she had nothing to do but check on the youngsters, keep them safe and focused, and maybe have a little fun with them. Beyond that she could occupy herself reading and see a part of British Columbia that was new to her.

Ahead, a cluster of drab yellow and blue single-story buildings rose out of the rain and the sodden fields. Phoebe slowed as the twisted trees fell behind them and the land fell away to a broad expanse of open water and reeds. A stone jetty hooked out into the water and protected a creosote-blackened wharf. From that, a series of four docks were surrounded by moored fishing and tour boats. Beyond them, the gray expanse of water churned uneasily in the broad channel. Clouds streamed low over the water traveling up the channel and obscured any mountains that might be around them.

Vehicles filled a small gravel parking lot at the side of the road, but Phoebe managed to squeeze the Subaru between two pickup trucks looking out at the waves. She turned the vehicle off and listened to the tick-tick-tick of the engine and the steady tattoo of the rain on the roof. In her seat she turned an evil eye on Alice.

Someone needs to find our ride to the course venue and I’m thinking it should be the person who brought us old folks here, especially because said person has brand new waterproof gear…

Geez, Aunt Bee. Of course the requisite eye roll. Of course I’ll go. You don’t have to go all grumpy on me.

The kid grabbed her new lime-green Gore-Tex jacket and squeezed out between the car and the neighboring truck to disappear in the rain. Phoebe sighed.

Sorry, Becca said. It’s more and more like that these days. The hormones are kicking in. I find I’m having to bite my tongue too often.

Phoebe rubbed her eyes. She’s that age. I’d be more surprised if the hormones didn’t kick in. She’s a great kid and you’ve done a great job with her. It’s just hard to believe how fast she’s growing up.

Tell me about it. Becca stared out the rain-streaked windshield. In front of the car, the land fell away to the water where a seal popped its head up and then disappeared. Logs rolled in the water, and out in the channel, a small metal boat bounced over the waves. Phoebe was pretty sure she didn’t want to go anywhere by boat in these conditions.

What’s that? Becca asked.

What’s what? Phoebe watched the boat turn into the wind and head toward the dock. The small craft slammed down again and again in troughs between the waves. Phoebe winced, feeling the concussion up her spine.

Right there. Becca leaned forward and pointed, and Phoebe’s gaze followed her finger.

Something pale lolled in a clog of driftwood caught amongst a cluster of wind-torn willows down by the shore, but with the rain on the windshield and the low light, it was hard to see what it was. Still, something about it made Phoebe shiver and everything around her go still.

She grabbed her Gore-Tex jacket from the back seat, sending food packages tumbling, and opened the car door far enough to slide out. The truck beside her gave some protection, but the wind and rain pummeled her as she slid on her midnight-purple jacket. When she stepped closer to the edge of the water, the wind shoved her back a step. Wind ripped her hood from her head. Cold rain plastered her hair to her skull and ran down her face. God, she wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time in this. It brought back too many memories of the almost disastrous kayaking trip to Johnstone Strait.

Becca was right. There was something there, but her vision wasn’t quite what it used to be and the water and shifting wood made it hard to see.

Aunt Bee? Alice eased past the Subaru to Phoebe’s side. What are you looking at? I found our ride. They can’t take the boat in this weather so they’re parked over by the wharf. I can hardly wait! The brisk wind and excitement had placed a flush on her face.

Right. Phoebe nodded. Good. You should let your mom know. But darn it, it looked like something pale was caught just under the water. Now and again the waves would shift enough that she caught a glimpse. It could just be a piece of driftwood that had lost its bark… Alice, can you make out what that is? You see there?

She pointed and Alice squinted through the rain and hung onto her hood. Then her face drained of color. Oh. Geez. No.

She caught Phoebe’s hand and Phoebe felt her tremble, felt her sway in the gusting wind.

Aunt Bee? It came out in the little girl voice Phoebe could recall from years ago. I think it’s a body. A girl.

3

It was the kind of scene you saw in a movie or newscast: swirling cloud, pouring rain. The yellow line of police tape that ran up from the shore and around the line of parked vehicles, including Phoebe’s Subaru, the swirl of red and blue lights from Bella Vista’s lone police vehicle—a mud-spattered Bronco—staining the faces of the onlookers huddled just outside the tape under their hoods and umbrellas—mostly hoods, Phoebe noticed. She could imagine the locals considering umbrellas to be city affectations so she wondered who the lone umbrella-holder might be.

And somehow she—Phoebe Clay—had ended up here, on the wrong side of the police tape. Again!

She glanced over at Becca, standing to one side. Through the rain, her face was a chalk white mask with high points of color splotched across her cheeks, despite the chill wind. Her expression was rigid, her full lips narrowed into a hard line, but she had one arm wrapped protectively around Alice’s shoulders.

A gust of wind lashed them with rain and Alice swayed. Becca pulled Alice more tightly into her side. It wasn’t just rain that ran down Alice’s face. Her whole body trembled. Alice might only be fifteen, but she’d seen too many bodies in her short life.

It’s okay, Phoebe said. This’ll be over soon enough and we can head out to the workshop.

Alice nodded, but when she looked up, her blue gaze pooled with tears. Why does this keep happening to us?

Phoebe shook her head and the wind stripped off her hood again. More rain ran through her already drenched hair. I don’t know, hon. I really don’t.

Becca said nothing. Her gaze flickered as she followed the activity down by the water. She hadn’t looked at Phoebe in ten minutes—as if she blamed Phoebe for finding the body and calling the police.

Becca suddenly flinched, raindrops scattering from her lashes. Phoebe looked back at the water where the town’s lone police officer was working with a local fisherman, both in waders. They stood almost waist deep in the surging tide, waves threatening to inundate their waders and drag them down as they laboriously pulled apart the driftwood that acted like battering rams as they slammed into the body.

Phoebe checked her watch. Almost five thirty and she could feel the strain of the long drive in her shoulders. Their ride to the workshop venue had left them with instructions to call when the police released them—whenever that might be. The storm had darkened the sky until it seemed more like late evening, but this was nothing compared to the storm she saw brewing every time she glanced at Becca. It didn’t make sense, given it was Becca who first spotted the body. Phoebe’s only crime was confirming that it was, indeed, a body and calling the police.

A shout from the water brought her attention back to the police officer. The web of debris had finally released the body and the officer was floating it through the waves and into the shore.

Long white feet were the first thing Phoebe saw. Long, light blonde hair that looked white in the cold gray water confirmed that it was a woman. A narrow face like Alice’s, eyes thankfully closed. Naked except for a pair of skin tone bikini briefs.

Alice stirred in her mother’s arms as the men in the water called for help bringing up the body.

Don’t look,