Code 61 - Donald Harstad [68]
The radio informed me that Lamar was on his way, as well, and that he had two DNR Fish and Game officers putting their boats in up at Freiberg. They'd be on the river in our area within a few minutes.
All in all, it looked like whoever had come thundering out of the third floor was going to be in our custody fairly soon.
Unfortunately, Jessica Hunley and company had fled the house when the shots were ffred. Reasonable, I suppose, and certainly justifiable in court, but we'd lost the threat of a search to hold them in the house.
Hester and I decided to let them take off, with the promise that they'd be available in the morning for “a few more questions.” We offered to put up Jessica and Tatiana in a local motel for the night.
“I won't hear of it,” said Junkel. “They're more than welcome to stay with us.”
I expressed the gratitude of the taxpayers.
As they left, they met Lamar at the Mansion end of the long drive. He pulled halfway into the trees to let them by, and then came to where Hester and I were standing near the front steps.
“That's a nice car, there,” he said, as he got out of his four-wheel-drive pickup. “Who belongs to that?”
“That'd be Jessica Hunley,” I said. “Owns the house, too.”
“How's Borman?”
Well, I told him. And, since warning shots had been ffred, and since I was the supervising officer at the scene, I told him about that, too.
“You talk to him about that?” he asked.
“Yeah. You could say that.”
“Okay, Carl. No need for me to say anything, then.”
That, it seemed, was to be the end of that.
Lamar decided that, since the small army of officers that were in the woods could handle the search, Hester and I should join the rest of the search team, and get the business in the Mansion conducted and behind us.
“Before hell freezes over,” he said. “Be really nice if you could do that.”
SIXTEEN
Sunday, October 8, 2000
20:12
The longest warranted search of my career resumed on the third floor of the Mansion, duly logged in at 20:12. Participants were recorded as me, Hester, Grothler, and Barnes. Hester, by virtue of already having been there, however briefly, went first.
The third floor was divided into two equal segments. One half was a well-furnished apartment, in a loft style, and furnished with very modern furniture, in complete contrast to the rest of the Victorian-style house.
The only separate area in the apartment half was the bath. The rest, kitchen, living area, and bed were separated by kind of artfully arranged furniture. Hester stood just inside the main door.
“Didn't get much of a look as I came through,” she said. “Nice.” She had her gun in her hand, as did I. We were taking no chances that there was a second suspect who'd decided not to run with the first. “This stuff is just about all IKEA,” she said. “Wow.”
“Oh.” I assumed that was either a brand name or a designer's name. Or, maybe a style? I didn't want to embarrass myself by asking.
Outside, we could hear some officer calling over his PA system. “Peel, we know you're out there! You might as well give up.”
I looked at Hester. “Who gave out the Peel name?”
“Not me.”
“Had to be Borman or Lamar,” I said. It was too late to hold it back now, regardless of who had released it. Considering how Borman's night was going, I hoped for his sake it hadn't been him.
The lighting, which we'd accessed via the main switch panel by the entrance, was muted but very thorough. Track lights, free-standing lamps, lights built in to the kitchen cabinets, all came on with the master switch. Made it really easy to check it all out.
The bed was what I'd describe as “king-size plus,” and was in the far corner. Solid all the way to the floor, with cabinets underneath. Nice, indeed. The most interesting thing