Chapter 4

The stars shone their heavenly lights across town. As Hayden soaked in his lonesomeness, with Elizabeth retreated into the furthest corners of her mind, Done Lage, the police chief headed out on a late night call. He had just sat down to dinner when the house phone rang. It had been dispatch informing him that there had been a 911 call in to the station about five minutes ago. A hysterical teenager was on the line claiming her boyfriend had been dragged off.

“Send Jimmy to check it out, Lisa,” he barked at the operator, annoyed at the nature of the call and ridiculousness of the story.

“Donnie, the teenager is Elizabeth.”

Don’s heart, already strained by the years of bad eating and the job, skipped a beat as he stared over at his wife of twenty-five years. She was standing over an ironing board, ironing his work shirt for the morning, the same as she had done every night of his whole career. Elizabeth was their only child, the light of their life, a college student at Trident Community College here in town; she was planning on going west for the spring semester.

“Dinner is almost done, Don. Can’t it wait?” his wife protested as she hung the shirt on a hanger. He didn’t know why she bothered with the wires; the shirts were starched so heavily they could stand up on their own.

“Nah. This is pretty important, honey. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He grabbed his coat and service revolver.

He drove through the back woods to the other side of Lake Veronica—an area abandoned in the fall and winter and usually only occupied by teenagers who liked a bit of canoodling—where he was greeted by two of his patrol cars. He pulled over and parked, got out, and hiked his pants up over his belly.

“Don, over here.” Tony Diaz, a veteran on the force walked over to greet him.

“Where’s Elizabeth?” Don growled in an attempt to mask the concern in his voice.

“She’s over there with Linda. Look, Don, Chad is missing. When we showed up, Elizabeth was ranting about a figure that came out of the lake and grabbed Chad. She said they were sitting out on the hood of the car talking. We found some pot and a bottle of booze but she insists they weren’t drunk. She is pretty scratched up and shaken.”

“Where’s Chad?” Don was already heading over to Linda Portman’s patrol car. Tony followed.

“Missing. Like I said, we can’t find him at all.”

Linda had her front and back doors open, and Don found Elizabeth sitting there wrapped in a blanket. Her face was pale and she was shaking, her eyes wide and staring. Her whole body shook with the force of the tremors. Linda shrugged at Don. She looked just as upset as Elizabeth. He knelt down to meet her eye to eye, his body groaning under the strain. His daughter’s eyes looked distant and empty. She was drooling out of the right corner of her mouth and, as he sniffed, he caught a strong whiff of urine. She had pissed her pants.

“Honey? Lizzy, it’s Daddy. Daddy’s here. Are you okay?” He took her hands into his and found that they were as cold as the grave. He clasped them between his meaty paws and started to rub them. She was staring at him, but not at him, more like through him. He hated the look on her pretty face. He turned her head to the right and noticed a scratch mark running down the length of the hairline to her jaw. Her lovely blonde hair was matted on the side with blood and dirt, and her clothing, which was usually fashionably disheveled, looked like it had been run through a washer on the “mud” setting. She was rocking back and forth.

“She’s in shock, Donnie. We found her like this,” Linda said as she knelt next to him.

“Yeah, but from what?” Don asked, standing up. His knees popped and his back protested as he reached out a hand to steady himself on the door. He turned and noticed two other patrol officers near the lake. Breathing heavily, he left Linda with Elizabeth and headed over to them. He recognized Chad’s pride and joy, an ’85 Mustang hatchback that he’d rebuilt with his father. The doors were both open.

Jim Waters, the fresh blood just one year on the force, walked up from the shoreline and met him at the hood of the car. He shook his head. “Come check this out, Chief.” He motioned for him to look down on the sand that started about a foot from the hood of the car. A set of claw marks, the size of human hands, dug into the sand and followed all the way down to the waterline.

“We found her locked inside the car, huddled down under the dash in front of the seat. She was clinging to her cell phone. She refused to move and didn’t even begin to relax until she saw Lori.” Jim explained, he watched Don carefully, fearfully, as the man was prone to fits of anger.

Don looked at Jim and then back down to the shoreline. The sand was disturbed by not only the claw marks but by a swath from the hood of the car to the water’s edge that could have indeed been a body. A breeze kicked up and sent a chill through the night. Leaves rustled and spiraled as the men looked out over the lake.

Don felt sick to his stomach as his gaze raked back to the claw marks in the sand. He saw something that at first looked like a shell or a small rock. Yet, the closer he looked he could have sworn…

“Jim, give me your flashlight.”

His deputy fumbled with his utility belt and finally withdrew what Don had asked for.

Turning it on, Don knelt down once more as the object of his interest was flooded with harsh white light. He turned his head to look back up at the young man. “Jesus. Jim, get me an evidence bag and a pair of tweezers.”

Don sat there hunched and kept his eyes locked on the target as Jim ran back to the car. He could feel his calves burning and his gut turning to stone as he looked up once more at the Mustang not twenty feet from where he was squat down. He traced the indents made in the ground to the point where he was and out into the water once more as he heard Jim approach.

“Whad’ya got Chief?”

Don didn’t say anything as he handed the flashlight back and instructed Jim to keep it fixed on the spot where he’d had it.

“What is that?”

Don reached down with the tweezers in one hand, opened the bag, and gently withdrew a bloody fingernail. He placed in gingerly in the evidence bag and closed it up.

“Oh, my god.”

Don stood up unsteadily, white flashes in front of his eyes, and had to steady himself before he spoke.

“Put out an APB on Chad Rhine. I want all available cars searching for the young man, right now. Send a squad car over to his parents’ house.” He backed away from the drag marks. “Call Fenton Township, apprise them of the situation and see if I can’t get some help down here. Roger Drake owes me a favor.” Don handed the bag back to Jim and stormed toward the car.

“Sheriff, where ya goin’?” Jim called after him.

“I’m taking my daughter to the hospital.” Don shouted back. “Do as I say! And have someone check those damn reeds!”