Code 61 - Donald Harstad [46]
“Fuck of a lot you know!”
“You might have a sprained knee,” she said. “Don't be such a baby.”
“Toby!” I barked out. His head jerked around to face me. “Toby,” I said, very slowly, “tell me what we're going to find out.” I lowered my voice deliberately, to give it the contrast that would make him listen. “I mean it, Toby.”
“He did it,” said Toby. “He killed her. He finally fuckin' killed her.”
“Who killed her? Kevin?” He hadn't been at the top of my list of suspects.
“No.” He was very quiet. “Oh, fuck, you'll find out anyway. And he'll know all about it…. ”
“Who?”
I waited. Finally, he said, “Daniel. It was Daniel. He did it. And now he'll get us, too.”
“No, he won't,” I said, just about automatically. Always reassure the victim.
“Don't fuckin' count on it,” said Toby, his voice shaking from both pain and fear. “He ain't just anybody, you know…. ”
“Well,” I said, “I'm not, either.” I smiled reassuringly.
He reached up, almost as if he was going to try to grab my collar. I was at least a foot too far away.
“You're a nice guy,” he said, “but you just don't know who you're dealing with.”
“Try me.”
“Daniel's … Daniel's … ”
“Come on,” I said encouragingly, and trying not to sound exasperated.
“He's a vampire.” He looked about as startled as I suspect Sally and I did. “Oh, fuck, I can't believe I said that.”
“Vampire? Who's Daniel? What do you mean, he's a vampire?”
“Daniel Peel,” he said. “And I call him a vampire because he fuckin' is one. A real fuckin' vampire, man, who drinks blood, and never ever dies.” He moaned. “Fuck, Toby's dead. Toby's dead and fuckin' gone now. Just plonk, plonk, plonk.” He started to shake.
“Oh, come on, Toby, cut the bullshit. Who in the hell ever heard of a vampire called Dan?” I snorted.
Toby said, in a startlingly cold voice, “I have. And you will, too. Don't you fuckin' laugh, he's probably coming for me right now.”
The memory of whatever had made those sounds a few moments ago, on the opposite side of the trail from Toby, suddenly gave me a spooky feeling in the middle of my back.
I heard Sally rustle around, and then heard her working the slide on her department-issue.40-caliber Smith & Wesson. Snick, clack. Bothered her, too, I guess.
“You sure he's out here?”
He paused, then said, “No.”
“Do you know where this Daniel is right now?”
“No.”
“Where is he usually?” He was clamming up on me.
“Could be anywhere,” he muttered. “Anywhere.”
Well, vampire or not, whoever this Daniel Peel was, Toby was certainly convinced that he'd killed Edie. We had our first suspect. We also had our first murder witness.
“Can you get to your feet?” I asked.
“What for?”
“For we don't have to carry your ass all the way back,” I said, in a friendly way. “Try to put some weight on that knee.”
I reached my hand down, and helped him up. He stood on his good leg.
“Go ahead, put the other one down, Toby.”
He gave me a dirty look, but did. Gingerly. Then with more weight. “Ow.” Sort of an obligatory complaint. Now that it appeared it really wasn't broken, I think he was beginning to realize that he'd scared himself into calling for help when he really hadn't needed it. Excellent. He was in good enough shape to go to the office, and be thoroughly interviewed. Very thoroughly.
“Sally, you go up first.” I leaned toward her, and whispered, “Safe and holster your weapon.” She did, with a snap as she lowered the hammer drop. But she did it reluctantly. If you're spooked, though, the place for your gun isn't in your hand. “When you get to the top, tell everybody that we've got him and he's okay.” She had a walkie-talkie, but with the combination of limestone foundation and beaucoup trees, there was little chance of her contacting anybody from where we were.
Toby said, “Be careful, lady.”
Sally climbed up a pile of soft dirt that had washed out of one of the limestone block walls, stuck one foot into a large horizontal crack, and simply stepped out of the foundation and back onto firm ground. I could see her removing her walkie-talkie from her utility belt, and heard her calling “81.