Code 61 - Donald Harstad [44]
I didn't even look back. “I don't know. See if one of the reserves can get some flashlights out of their car.” I was trying to get my eyes adjusted to the dark as soon as I could. It wouldn't help much, but at least I would be able to see if I was going to collide with something within a couple of feet. I couldn't imagine Toby making very good time, wherever he was headed. Not without breaking his neck.
Sally came around the side of the house a few minutes later, with her flashlight on, and said, “Here's a light for you, too.”
So much for my night vision.
It was so damned dark up there in the woods, we brought two squad cars around the side of the house, on the lawn, and tried to light the area with spotlights and headlights. Not much help, but we extended our sight line to the surrounding woods. No sign of Toby. Since Sally and I had the only flashlights, we began to move toward the nearest trees.
“I think I might have heard a noise over that way,” I said, shining my flashlight to my left.
“Okay.”
Hester and Reserve Officer Knockle, who was nearly seventy, and had been on the reserve since 1966, stayed at the residence. We'd called for assistance, but it would be a good twenty minutes before one of the regular deputies on the night shift could get up to us.
“We're never gonna find him, Houseman,” said Sally. “Not in a million years.”
“Probably,” I said. “So we better spread out.”
“No way,” said Sally. “I'll come along, but I draw the line at wandering around out here by myself.”
I raised my voice. “Toby! Come on, now, Toby!”
“Like that'll help,” came a soft mutter from my partner.
“Hey, Houseman!” I heard the screen door slam, and Hester hurried over to us. “Better be careful. Knockle says there are lots of foundations scattered through this area.”
“Really?”
“Says they're from the old German commune? I don't know … ”
“Oh, hell,” I said. “That's right.” I pointed my flashlight beam to my left again. “About a quarter of a mile, I'll bet. It was the start of a small town, called Kommune, in the 1820s or so, up here on the hill above the river. Sure … failed by 1860 or '70, I think. Abandoned.”
Sally'd heard of Kommune, as well. “My grandpa used to tell us about that.” She looked over to our left. “Shit, I thought that was miles from here.”
“There's probably a path along the bluff or the hill, to the river, then,” said Hester. “They would have had an access of some sort, and it sure wasn't the current road.”
Well, that made sense. “If there is, we'll try to find it. We were going to start over that way, anyway,” I said. “I thought I might have heard him over there when I first got out the door. See if you can contact whatever car's responding, and have them take the road as close to the base of the cliff as they can. Shine lights up toward the top, and see if they can find a path. Might be enough to keep him up here.”
“Got it,” she said. “You sure you'll be all right in a few hundred feet of uncharted wilderness?” I knew she was grinning.
“I'll be just fine,” said Sally. “Carl's going first.”
“Watch him,” said Hester. “He's a little out of shape. Wouldn't want you to have to carry him back.”
“I'll just call for a wrecker,” said Sally.
We traversed the lawn in seconds, now that the headlights let us see where we were going. The wooded area was going to be a different matter altogether. It didn't look like the headlights penetrated the trees beyond a few feet.
There was something of a path. It was dusty, and big bunches of dry leaves and twigs were clumped along it.
“Might as well assume he took the path,” I said, and headed forward.
I stepped on some twigs just about as soon as I got to the path, causing a brittle snapping sound, and eliciting a pithy “Shhhh,” from Sally. “Don't step on every twig you can.”
I assured her I wouldn't. We called out Toby's name three or four times, but got no response. We were on a gentle downslope that was taking us out of the splinters of light thrown