Page 6 of Twice Missing
For a moment, he could almost see himself and Luke as teenagers, laughing and shoving each other as they raced across the street. The phantom image faded asquickly as it had appeared, leaving Noah alone with the weight of the past.
He started the engine, the familiar rumble grounding him in the present. Whatever awaited him west of the town of Saranac Lake, whatever ghosts from the past had resurfaced, Noah knew one thing for certain: the job came first. It always did.
2
Noah Sutherland's Bronco crunched over the snow-packed road leading to Upper Saranac Lake Boat Launch. The early morning sun stretched across the frozen expanse, its weak light doing little to dispel the chill that had settled into his bones during the drive. As he approached, the flashing lights of police cruisers and an ambulance pierced the pre-dawn gloom.
He pulled up beside a cluster of official vehicles, his eyes drawn to the hulking shape of an amphibious excavator at the water's edge. Its massive arm held aloft a waterlogged truck, water cascading from its rusted frame. The sight sent a jolt through Noah's system, more effective than any caffeine. This was it. After ten years, Emily Carter had been found.
As he stepped out of his vehicle, the frigid air slapped his exposed skin. Noah zipped his jacket higher, his breath forming small clouds as he surveyed the scene. Yellowcrime scene tape fluttered in the breeze, cordoning off a wide area around the boat launch. Beyond, the vast expanse of Upper Saranac Lake stretched out before him, its frozen surface broken only by a jagged path carved through the ice.
Noah had spent countless summers on this lake, fishing with his brother Luke, camping on its shores with friends. He knew its contours, its moods. Upper Saranac was the sixth largest lake in the Adirondacks, eight miles long and two miles wide. In summer, its 37-mile shoreline bustled with activity, dotted with camps, lodges, and private residences. Now, in the grip of winter, it lay silent and still, guarding its secrets beneath a sheet of ice.
As Noah ducked under the police tape, a familiar figure approached. John Wetherby, a veteran of the Saranac Lake Police Department, nodded in greeting. "Noah."
"John," Noah returned, his eyes still on the truck. "Who found her?"
John gestured towards two figures huddled near an unmarked police car. "Jack Hollister and his son. They were doing some overnight ice fishing. I've taken their statement. They called it in. Took some time to get the right guys out here and pull the truck out. Had to crack the ice to even get the amphibious excavator in."
Noah's gaze followed the path of broken ice stretching out across the lake. "How far out?"
"About three miles south, just east of The Cove.”
The Cove. Noah knew it well. A five-star resort that backed onto the water, popular with tourists and wealthyvacationers. His mind raced, trying to piece together what Emily Carter might have been doing out there ten years ago.
John led him towards the back of the ambulance. "You'll want to see this."
Noah climbed in. The interior was bathed in harsh fluorescent light. An EMT stood by a body bag on a stretcher, his face grim. At John's nod, he unzipped the bag.
Noah steeled himself, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight. Emily Carter lay before him, her features distorted by the effects of long submersion, but still recognizable. Her skin was pale and bloated, with a waxy appearance that spoke of prolonged exposure to cold water. Despite the decomposition, she was remarkably well-preserved.
"We figure the cold temperatures have inhibited bacterial growth and decay," John explained. "Lack of oxygen, depth, and pressure have played a role in keeping the body intact."
Noah nodded, his eyes fixed on Emily's face. "She's been missing for ten years."
"Yep. There was a guy pulled from Lake Superior 80 years after he went missing. They could still identify him. That's where the old saying 'Lake Superior never gives up her dead' comes from. They sink and remain submerged for a long time. Now in her case, she was inside the truck, so she had nowhere to go. Entombed, you could say."
"But they searched lakes back when the investigation was active," Noah said, his brow furrowed.
"Within an eight-mile radius of her workplace. The town of Saranac Lake is just out of that. This wasn't on her route home that night either."
Noah's mind flashed back to the media frenzy that had surrounded Emily's disappearance. A young woman, a doctor at Adirondack Medical Center, vanishing without a trace after a late-night shift. The absence of her truck had baffled investigators, leading to extensive searches of smaller bodies of water. But Saranac Lake, with its vast expanse and depth of up to 100 feet, had proved too daunting to search thoroughly.
"No signs of trauma to the body that I can see," John continued. "Figure she drowned. Could have been suicide."
Noah's attention was drawn to Emily's wrist. A colorful bracelet stood out against her pale skin. The words "Niá:wen tsi wahsekhnié:non" were woven into the fabric. It was an intricate piece, made of leather, dyed porcupine quills, stone beads, seeds, animal bones, shells, and twisted grasses. Noah recognized it as Native craftsmanship, but he wasn't sure what the words meant.
Noah snapped on a pair of latex gloves and carefully touched the bracelet, turning it slightly to see it. "Make sure you bag the hands, there may still be residue under the fingernails. Get her over to the medical examiner at the Medical Center. I'm eager to see the preliminary report," he told John. He knew Dr. Adelaide Chambers, the local medical examiner, would do a good job.
Stepping out of the ambulance, Noah made his way to the truck. He climbed onto the amphibious boat, peering into the waterlogged interior. The door hung open,revealing a sodden mess of deteriorated upholstery and rusted metal.
"The windows?" he asked John, who had followed him.
"Partially open when pulled."
"Was she bound?"
"No. We'll do an inventory of the truck once it's back at the department. We're going to have to canvass the neighborhood."
