I told Sally to turn off her light. There was no reason to deplete both sets of batteries. After a few more yards, I told her that I was going to turn mine off, too, and to stand very still.
“If Toby's near here,” I whispered, “if we're quiet, I'll bet he spooks first.”
“Don't be too sure,” came the whispered reply.
We stood on the path for about a minute, in darkness and dead silence. I was about to turn on my light and start moving again, when we heard a rustling off the path, to our left. I heard Sally's intake of breath, but she didn't make another sound.
We stood stock-still. We waited at least another minute. Damn. It was still way too soon for my eyes to adapt. That would take another twenty minutes. Come on, Toby. Jump.
Suddenly, I heard a twig crack and snap. To my left, but kind of behind me. My first thought was that it was Sally, trying to get past me for some reason.
“Did you hear that?” Her whispered question came from directly behind me, right where she should have been.
When you're in the dark, and your partner asks a question, you really have to give some sign that you've heard, or they just keep asking.
“Yeah,” I whispered back, not turning. I reached down, and unsnapped my service weapon, leaving my right hand on the butt.
“It's just me,” she said, as I felt a hand on my back. There's always a need for reassurance, and to tell the truth, I was glad she'd reached out her hand. Reassurance goes both ways. “A deer?”
Possibly. I said as much. Then I said, “Shhh.”
We waited a few more seconds, and there was another sound, a little farther ahead and still left of the trail.
I decided it was time to turn on the lights.
I snapped my flashlight on, and could see nothing but trees.
“Shit,” said Sally, caught by surprise. Her light came on immediately.
We did both sides of the path. Nothing.
“What the hell is it?”
“Not sure,” I said, pointing the beam of my light down. I couldn't tell which, if any, of the twigs I was looking at had been the one that had cracked. Roots, some limestone showing through the surface of the path, and the twigs pretty much ruled out a footprint.
“Let's go toward it, anyway,” I said, starting forward along the path.
All of a sudden, there was a loud rustling in the dried leaves off to the right, of somebody or something moving fast. Then a yell and a thump.
Silence. Both our flashlights shined toward the sound. “Toby?” I hollered. “That you, Toby?”
“Help! Help! I broke my fuckin' leg!”
Sally and I both went crashing through the small branches and leaves, toward the sound of Toby's voice. We had to glide our feet, making whooshing sounds in the leaves that blocked out everything else. We stopped again, and he was so loud and clear, we had to be within yards. But we couldn't see him.
“Toby, where are you?”
“Down here! My leg's all broken!”
Sure enough, about ten yards out, off a bit to the left, if you looked really close between two trees, you could see sort of a lumpy area when the flashlight beams moved over that way.
We reached him in just a few seconds. He was lying on his side, in a limestone foundation, on a bed of about a half billion leaves and twigs. He was holding his right leg, bent at the knee, with both hands. Both Sally and I clambered in with him.
“Which leg?” asked Sally. It's training: You're taught not to assume anything if possible, but sometimes it just sounds dumb. I'm sure she thought so, too.
“This one. Aw shit!” He indicated his right leg. It looked fine to me.
“Let me see,” said Sally. She had just finished her EMT training, and sounded suspiciously happy. She began to feel his leg.
“Ouch!”
“Hurt?” Sally has a way.
“Oh, shit, yeah, it hurts! Jesus Christ, lady!”
“Toby,” I said, as much to distract him as anything else. “What the hell'd you run for?”
“ 'Cause you're gonna find out, that's why!” He was pretty near tears.
“Find out what?”
“Just find out,” he said. “Ouch!”
“Your leg looks just fine to me,” said Sally. “It's not broken.”
“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 amp; 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.” That was the number assigned to Knockle.
“Hokay, Toby. Look, we'll have Sally grab your hand, and I'll give you an assist from down here. See how she got to the top using that dirt pile?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Sure.” His head was moving around like he was going to see something. Fat chance of that in the dark.
“Just don't step in her tracks, or you'll sink down too far.” I shined my flashlight on Sally's path out of the foundation, just to let him know exactly what I meant. I looked up, and Sally indicated she was ready. She held out a hand, and helped Toby up as I pushed.
I went up the same way that Sally had, but sank appreciably farther into the dirt. I had to put my flashlight down, and use both hands to get to the top of the wall, and as I pushed myself upright, one of the blocks I was kneeling on came loose and went thudding back into the foundation.
“You okay?” asked Sally.
“Yeah, just fine.”
“You sure make a racket,” she said.
I assumed the lead, with Toby close behind me, and Sally bringing up the rear. “Just where can I find this Dan the vampire?” I asked.
“I don't know. Hell, anywhere. He could be down in the woods back there,” said Toby, his voice tense. “I don't know.”
Almost as if by magic, Sally was in the lead.
“What's he do?” I asked. “Drink blood?”
“Sometimes.” He sounded out of breath.
“You want to stop for a few seconds?” Even though Sally had said he was all right, I didn't want him fainting from the pain of a possible sprained knee or ankle. It was still too far to carry him.
“No!” he whispered, but with considerable emphasis.
As we got closer to the house, and the trees thinned, the headlights of the cars we'd positioned to help began to interfere with our vision.
“Tell Eighty-one to turn off the car lights, just parking lights will do,” I said. Sally complied.
They went out about five seconds later. Much better. I realized that Toby hadn't really complained about any pain since we got out of the foundation. “You okay, Toby?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Just fine. Dead man walkin', that's me.” I thought the sarcasm was appropriate this time.
It was a strange situation, really. I was in possession of a name, purportedly that of a suspect. That was good. The fact that I didn't have the foggiest idea who this Daniel Peel was didn't bother me much, seeing as it was fairly easy to find people in the information age. I was about to set Toby down and have a nice, heart-to-heart chat. Whether or not this Peel was actually a suspect didn't really bother me. Just the additional name would enable us to open more avenues of inquiry, as it were. Sure didn't hurt to have Peel's name, though. Not a bit. The problem, in a nutshell, was Toby's announcement that Peel was a vampire. I mean, it's always better to have your only witness not be delusional. Sanity really does enhance credibility, no matter what they say.
We kept Toby outside in the back of a squad, with Sally standing right by his door, while Hester and I talked.
“Vampire? You're kidding. Carl? You are, aren't you?”
“No. 'Fraid not. That's what he says, anyway.”
“Named Daniel?”
I found myself getting a little defensive. “Well, nobody's really called 'Count' much anymore.”
“And,” Hester asked, struggling, “is there, maybe, a werewolf named Bob?” She lost the battle, and kind of giggled. “Jesus, Houseman. Where do you ffnd these people?”
“Okay, okay.” I sighed. “But, we do have Toby saying that this Daniel Peel dude killed Edie. And he did run out of the house… ”
“He probably couldn't keep a straight face anymore,” she said. Then a deep breath. “Okay, right. Look, it's just late, and we've all had a long day, and it looks like it's just getting a good start, so, what do we need?”
It was good to get back to business. “We need an interview with Toby, a good one, and real soon. First of all”-I thought for a second-“I don't think we want Toby back in the house with the rest of them, especially not with the vampire business. If we do have something to that, I don't want them to know that we know.”
“Can we keep him isolated?” Hester asked the question even as she came up with the answer. “Of course we can. He's a runner.”
“You got it. A material witness, who's demonstrated his desire to flee.”
According to the Iowa Code, any officer may arrest any person as a material witness, provided that the person is a material witness to a felony, and if the person might be unavailable for subpoena. Toby claimed knowledge of a felony, all right. He'd already run once.
And we were, via the bridge across the Mississippi at Freiberg, less than five miles from Wisconsin. We can't subpoena from another state, and we sure can't subpoena somebody we can't ffnd, even if they stay in Iowa.
I went to the squad car.
“Hey, Toby?”
“What?”
“You know that I'm a deputy sheriff, don't you?”
“Now what?” He had a right to be suspicious, and he certainly appeared to be.
“Well, Toby, since you've run once, and since you're a material witness in a felony case, I'm placing you under arrest as a material witness.”
“You can't do that!” They always say that. Hell, even their attorneys say that.
“It's done, Toby,” I said. “Don't be too bothered about it. I told you about that earlier today, didn't I? We'll take good care of you.” I gestured to Sally. “Go ahead and take him in. Stop and have him checked at the Maitland Hospital before you book him. Just in case of some lawsuit over his leg.” I moved a bit closer to him. “Okay, now, you've got the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you in a court or courts of law. You have the right to an attorney, and to have him present during questioning.” I smiled. “Got that?”
“I don't believe this,” said Toby. “I just don't believe this.”
“But, do you understand what I've just said? You gotta understand it, Toby.”
“Yeah, yeah, I understand all that shit. But it just isn't gonna help, is all.”
“Don't worry,” I said. “It should be a lot easier than running through the woods in the dark.”
“Yeah. Right.”
“Hey, Toby, just consider it revenge for scaring the hell out of me.” I smiled.
“What?”
“When you ran right by us in the woods. Just before you fell in the foundation.”
He shook his head. “I never ran by you. I was lying down until I got up when you turned your lights on. When I ran into the hole.” He gave kind of a satisfied smile. “Like I said, dude. Like I said.”
Sally and I exchanged what I would call meaningful looks and then she glanced back toward the woods. “I think we'll be leaving now,” she said quickly. She turned to Toby, in the backseat behind the thick Plexiglas screen. “Now you behave, Toby, and just be quiet back there, and put on your seat belt.” She got into the squad, and left the door open while she buckled herself in.
“Don't pick up any hitchhikers,” I said. That earned me a look from Sally. “Don't forget, cite under Code Chapter 804.11. Make certain you include that.”
“Okay, boss.”
“And no questions to hi
m until one of us gets down there.”
I went back to Hester. “We can talk to him when we get back to Maitland. Ought to be good enough.”
“You know what bothers me?”
“Tonight? Hard to tell,” I said. “What?”
“The man who joined us at the restaurant. That Chester dude.”
“Yeah.”
“So, somebody shows up who hunts vampires, then we have a suspect say that our victim is killed by a vampire. What're the odds?”
“Tonight? Pretty good.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I'm afraid we better talk to this Chester guy again. Not right away. Damn. Not tonight, anyway.” She brushed a wayward strand of hair from her forehead. “But this stinks. It almost feels like some sort of setup.”
“Maybe… ”
“Do you want your office, then, to get hold of this vampire hunter and set up an appointment?”
“Oh, Harry will keep us in touch,” I said, half kidding. “Right now, the two of us are the only people who know all the connections. I'd like to keep it that way.”
“There's a third one, Carl.” She was beginning to smile, broadly.
“Who?”
“Dangerous Dan the Vampire Man,” she said, and snickered. “Honest to God, I'm never coming to Nation County again.”
“We're entertaining, you gotta admit,” I said.
“Right. So, anyway, regardless, then we need a search warrant application for the house and related property, real quick.” She looked tired. “And then we need to do the damned search, and in a house this big, that could take a day or more.” She regarded the Mansion, looming in the dark. “Easily. Can your department stand the cost of putting the residents up for the night?”
Well, we sure as hell couldn't leave them in the house.
“Let me call Lamar,” I said, “but I think we should talk to the group inside, first.”
“Sure.”
We explained to Hanna, Huck, Kevin, and Melissa that we were going to make out an application for a search warrant, and submit it to a judge.
“Then what?” asked Huck.
“Then,” I explained, “the judge either issues the warrant or he doesn't. If he does, we begin the search.”
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