In the Clearing (Tracy Crosswhite #3)(53)

“What? Why not?”

“Three things.” Rosa held up a finger as she raised each point. “First, pattern recognition with respect to the bruising. Second, the nature of the recorded injuries. And third, river dynamics. I’m going to let Peter start with the river dynamics.”

Gabriel handed Tracy and Rosa each a document. “Let’s start with terminology. The flow of a river is measured in cubic feet per second. That flow is going to vary based on the particular river, the month, and seasonal factors, such as the depth of the snowpack in the mountains that year, and the number of inches and the severity of spring rains—those sorts of things. What I just gave you is a document from the USGS website, which records water flow on just about every river. NOAA provides similar information—historical data on things like inches of rain, temperature, and river flow. For fishermen and river guides, this is our bible. It’s no different than people commuting to work checking traffic cameras to determine the traffic flow before going to work or driving home. River guides and fishermen check river flow.”

“How far back do these records go?” Tracy asked while trying to decipher the document on her own.

“About eighty years,” Gabriel said. “Your body was found in November 1976. November and February are wild-card months in my business. The water flow can be highly unpredictable. It can be at its absolute peak one day and at its absolute low just days later. We refer to them as transition months. In September and October, the water level is traditionally at its lowest flow because the spring and summer runoff from the snowmelt in the mountains has ordinarily ebbed by then, but if we’ve had a particularly good snowpack, the river can run high all the way into December. If we’ve had a poor snowpack, like the past two years, or we’ve had an Indian summer and the warmer temperatures extend into October, the water levels will be low. But even then, if we get early November rains or maybe a light snow in the foothills that melts, the water flow can go from superlow to superhigh extremely quickly, a matter of days.”

“Okay. So you’re saying you really have to look at it day to day,” Tracy said. “But when you say the river has a high flow rate, how fast are we talking? Can you put it in layman’s terms?”

“In November?”

“Right.”

“In November the water flow in the White Salmon can peak at two hundred twenty cubic feet per second, which is the equivalent of about eight to twelve miles an hour. Doesn’t sound like much for a car, but on a river it’s really, really fast, and the water is really high,” Gabriel said. “When the water is that high, the boulders are covered; a river guide can literally just point the raft downstream and steer it into and over big waves.”

“And a body would go over them also?”

“A body in the river with a life jacket would go over them. A body without a life jacket or wet suit is likely to get pulled under, especially if the person is already hurt or inexperienced in that type of survival situation. I’ve been there, though I always wear a life jacket and a helmet and I’m experienced. It isn’t a lot of fun. You don’t see the rocks and boulders coming, so you don’t have time to brace for a hit or the chance to try to avoid it. It’s like getting hit with a baseball bat. The pain is excruciating.”

Tracy looked to Rosa. “So, swift enough to cause the type of impact injuries the coroner noted on his report?”

“Maybe,” Rosa said, nodding again to Gabriel and taking another sip of her beer.

“If the river is low, the flow is maybe five hundred to six hundred cubic feet per second, which equates to four to five miles an hour. The water flow isn’t as intense, but then the water isn’t as high, and there are more exposed boulders and rocks to navigate. A person in the water at low flow won’t absorb the same impact, but she’ll hit more rocks and boulders. It’s more a rat-a-tat-tat,” he said tapping on the table, “instead of thwack.” He slapped his palm for emphasis, causing Tracy to reach for her glass.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No worries.” Tracy reconsidered the document Gabriel had handed her, which included a graph with data points. “Help me out here. It looks like from this document that the water flow for the first week of November 1976 was a little over five hundred cubic feet per second. Am I reading that correctly?”

“You are,” Gabriel said, using a pen to circle the information on Tracy’s document.

“So,” Rosa said, “some of the injuries identified in the coroner’s report would be consistent with what you would expect to see on a body being forced down a river with a four-to five-mile-per-hour-flow—bruising, cuts and scrapes, some abrasions.”

“But not all of them?” Tracy said.

“In my opinion, your victim suffered what are called ‘crushing injuries,’ injuries more consistent with blunt-force trauma. What I would expect to see as a result of a high-speed impact.”

“Like if the river was at a high water flow,” Tracy said.

“Not necessarily,” Rosa said, “but possibly. If she was slammed into a boulder and then crushed by, say, a log or other debris, yes.”

“Which we did not have,” Tracy said, looking to Gabriel.

“Not according to the USGS report,” he confirmed.

“So how did she sustain her injuries?” she asked Rosa.