The Gathering Place Read online

  “What about search dogs?”

  Luke added. “Does Cape Light have a unit?”

  Sanborn folded his arms over his chest, seeming to take notice of Luke for the first time. His eyes narrowed. “We got some dogs from Hamilton first thing this afternoon. They started off at the Hegmans’ house, then lost the scent just outside of town. We didn’t find them much help, frankly.”

  Luke seemed undaunted by the reply. “Well, two-men pairs are okay to cover the town. But you need to cover the large open areas inch by inch.”

  “Inch by inch, huh? If we had an army at our disposal maybe,” Sanborn challenged him, his voice rising. “Are you here to help search, McAllister, or take over my job?”

  Luke had expected something like this. He knew that the police chief and others in Cape Light still resented him for bringing in the center. He was used to their attitudes. So used to it, in fact, that it didn’t faze him. He was too worried about Digger to let any of it get under his skin tonight.

  “I’m telling you, you’re doing this wrong. With all due respect,” he added. “Like the dunes over there with the high grass. You need to get a long line of, say, twenty men with the search vehicles moving behind them. Have them walk straight across to the other end. As for needing an army to do it, what about the National Guard or even the Coast Guard? They might send some help out here, maybe even a helicopter to sweep over the coastline and marshes—though it’s too late to see much now,” Luke added unhappily.

  “That’s not a bad idea. Have we called them, Jim?” Emily asked.

  “I’ve been waiting,” he admitted. “But I guess it is time.”

  The chief’s expression looked tight and grim, and Luke allowed himself some sympathy for the man. He probably resented having an ex-cop from Boston—a disgraced cop, no less—telling him how to run his show. It was completely understandable. But Luke had run searches like this before, and he knew he couldn’t afford to remain silent when Digger’s life was on the line.

  The police radio buzzed, and the chief picked up the call. “Sanborn.” He listened intently. “Give me the coordinates,” he said. Luke watched as he turned to the map and marked a spot. “Yeah, I got it. Keep following the trail. Check back in five minutes. I’ll be right there.”

  As he clicked off, he glanced up at Emily. “Digger’s pack was found on a trail that leads into the woods off the Beach Road. Had snow on it, so it must have been there awhile,” he said disconsolately. “The officers are still following the trail.”

  He pointed to the map. “The path must be about here, leading into the woods behind the Cranberry Cottages.”

  “It’s marshland back there, isn’t it? Behind the woods, I mean,” Emily asked.

  “There are high reeds and mud. You can’t see two feet in front of your face. A lot of water, which I hope is frozen hard enough to walk on. There’s some quicksand in there, too.”

  “Oh, dear. It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Emily said.

  “It’s no place to spend the night at Digger’s age,” Sanborn responded. He swallowed hard, as he rolled up the map.

  “It’s a break,” Luke insisted. “This could be the lead you’ve been waiting for. But now you have to use it.”

  The older man turned to Luke, his eyes flashing with anger. “So what’s my next move, McAllister? You want to run this show, go ahead. What do we do now?”

  Luke stepped up to the truck bed and looked over the map. “Call all the searchers to that location. You want to cover this section first. Then this next section here.”

  “And what if he’s not in there? What if he’s down here in the flats or in the dunes, where we haven’t even looked yet? Or somewhere along the road? We won’t have anyone left to check those areas.”

  “If Digger’s still in the woods, there should be more evidence. Even if it’s just trampled-down brush,” Luke argued. “Without enough people looking at once, you might not get to him in time.”

  The police chief paused a moment. He glanced at Emily. “What do you think, Mayor?”

  “I think Luke’s got a point. If it were up to me, I’d say, let’s try it and see how it goes, but it’s your call.”

  Sanborn nodded, avoiding her gaze. “All right then. I’ll send the bulk of them down to that spot.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll meet you over there. There should be some flares on the road.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll find the spot.” Emily turned toward Luke. “Okay, let’s go,” she said to him.

  Luke fell into step beside her, his hands digging into his jacket pockets. They reached her car, and he turned to her. The wind off the water was chilling as he tugged at his words. “This is the right way to go, Emily.”

  Emily pulled open the door to her truck. “I hope so. I don’t know if I can live with myself if it isn’t.”

  Luke jumped into his 4Runner and gunned the engine. Farther down the lot he saw Chief Sanborn pull out, followed by three cruisers and the ambulance.

  For a moment Luke allowed his doubts to surface. What if he was wrong? It had been Sanborn’s call finally, but if they didn’t find Digger, Luke knew he would be blamed. He was barely accepted here as it was. He would have to leave, no question. All the work he’d done here, the roots he’d put down—it would all go down the drain.

  He would have to leave Sara. That would be hardest of all, he realized. Leave her before they’d even gotten started.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUKE KNEW THE VACANT LAND ALONG THE BEACH ROAD WELL. Though he had only moved here in the spring, he’d spent summers in Cape Light as a boy, which was the real reason he’d been drawn back to the town. He knew the road was bordered by a tangled wood, where narrow paths wove between overgrown trees, vines, and brush. The woods were not quite as hard to walk through at this time of the year. But nearly, he thought.

  At a certain point, the ground became too soggy for trees, and the terrain turned into a wide meadow, covered by tall dense reeds and scrubby bushes. If Digger had wandered that far, it would be hard to find him tonight. And if they didn’t find him tonight . . . Luke couldn’t allow his mind to consider the possibility.

  They would find him. They had to.

  As Jim had promised, orange road flares marked the opening to the woods. A good number of searchers had already arrived, and the road’s shoulder was lined with cars and trucks. Luke parked his 4Runner and joined Emily. The volunteers huddled in small groups, waiting for directions. Many greeted Emily, Luke noticed, but only Sam Morgan and Harry Reilly greeted him.

  The chief’s car pulled up, and Jim walked up to Emily and Luke. “Well, here they are,” he said. “I still don’t like sending the whole search crew into the same place.”

  “It’s useless on the trail,” Luke agreed, “but we’ve already established that Digger’s not on the trail.”

  “Good detective work, McAllister. He might have walked into the woods this morning and walked right out.”

  “Or he might have gone into the marsh and is now stuck in there,” Luke countered. “Let them all go down to the end of the trail, where the reeds start. Then have them line up side by side, a few yards apart and walk into the reeds.”

  The chief took a long harsh breath. “I’m giving this scheme an hour. If it doesn’t pan out by then, we’ll try it my way again.”

  “All right, Jim. Fair enough,” Emily said. She looked at Luke but didn’t say anything more.

  The police chief spoke to the officers present, and the group was soon organized as Luke had instructed. Luke pulled on a borrowed pair of rubber boots, turned on his flashlight, then joined the single-file line of men and women marching into the woods.

  The line of volunteers and police officers soon came to the end of the wooded trail, and they turned toward the edge of the tall reeds. Finally, they began to move forward, spots of light from their flashlights dancing around their feet. Luke walked behind Emily who was not far from the police chief.

  Despite the
cold snap, much of the wet boggy ground remained soft and muddy, sucking at their feet with each step. Luke pushed through the reeds and bramble, his gaze searching the ground for any clue, any sign that Digger had wandered into the marsh.

  “For the life of me, I can’t see why anyone would think the man could be in here. There’s no path anymore, and you can barely walk two steps. It just doesn’t make any sense.” Luke overheard the police chief complaining to Emily.

  “Let’s go on a bit farther,” Emily replied. “We’ve barely come a hundred feet.”

  “That’s just my point. I’m watching the clock,” Sanborn added gruffly.

  Luke swallowed hard and kept his head down. He was also watching the clock and knew that time was ticking down.

  Still, he had a feeling, a gut feeling, that Digger was in here. Since he’d come to Cape Light, Luke had found himself not exactly praying, but talking to God on a more regular basis. As he pushed through the tall weeds, he started a silent conversation. God, please help us out here. Give us some sort of sign. Another clue. We can’t do this without you.

  The minutes ticked by. One of the volunteers turned an ankle on a tree root and had to be taken out on a stretcher by the EMS crew.

  Sanborn turned to Emily. “Had enough yet? This is a downright waste of time,” he said sharply. “Digger must have come down the trail, dropped the pack by accident, then realized he couldn’t walk in any farther and went back out again. You don’t need Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out.”

  Luke could see worry and indecision flashing across Emily’s face. She sighed and checked her watch. “We did put an hour’s time limit on the effort,” she acknowledged.

  Luke knew more than an hour had passed by now. Counting the trek in from the road, it was nearly two. She cast Luke a questioning look. “What do you think? Would Digger have come into the marsh this far? I mean, the chief has a point. There aren’t even trails anymore.”

  Luke shrugged. “Not to you and me. But Digger knew every path and shortcut within a ten-mile radius. He might have been taking some hidden path through the marsh that cuts down to the beach. Or he might have gotten lost looking for it.”

  It wasn’t just his ego talking or some need to be right. He still had a nagging feeling that Digger was around here, somewhere. And it was the kind of feeling that detectives are taught not to ignore.

  Sanborn huffed impatiently. “I’m calling the searchers in. We agreed on one hour. It’s been far longer than that.”

  Emily glanced at Luke then back at the police chief. She nodded. “All right. If you think we’ve come far enough. It is hard to see how he could have made it back here,” she added quietly.

  Luke turned away from them, staring at the wall of reeds swaying in the darkness. The sight made his heart heavy with dread and fear. Digger was back there somewhere; he just knew it.

  “I’m going to stay,” he said suddenly.

  Emily turned and stared at him. “Alone? Do you think that’s wise?”

  “You can’t stay out here alone, McAllister,” Sanborn cut in harshly. “We’ll be sending out a search team for you next. I won’t permit it.”

  Luke met his gaze. “Guess what? I don’t need your permission. We just crossed the line onto my property. I’m going to keep searching out here.”

  Sanborn gave him a hard look, then turned to Emily. “You heard him, Mayor. I won’t be responsible.”

  The chief clipped his radio back on his belt, then raised his light straight up, swinging it back and forth, a signal to others that the hunt in this area was over. Police officers at other positions in the marsh signaled back in answer. There was a moment of heavy silence. The sound of failure, Luke thought.

  The searchers turned and headed back to the road. Emily stayed behind a moment.

  “I don’t think it’s very wise of you to stay out here alone,” she said to Luke, when the chief was out of earshot. “But I can see you’re determined. At least take this.” She took her key chain out of her pocket, then pulled something off it and handed it to Luke.

  Luke looked down at the metal whistle in his hand. “Okay, thanks,” he said, slipping it into his pocket. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost out here, too.”

  “I certainly hope not,” Emily said in a serious tone. “I’m going back with the others now. But I want you to test the whistle in about five minutes or so. It will make me feel better if I know you can be heard if you need help.”

  Luke felt a little silly complying with the request, but he nodded anyway. “Sure. No problem. I’ll try it in a few minutes.”

  He’d put Emily’s reputation on the line tonight. He could at least blow the whistle if it made her feel better.

  “All right, then. I’ll be listening for it.”

  Emily turned to join the others. The last of the volunteers were vanishing down the trail back into the woods, and the area looked suddenly very dark without the reassuring glow of the searchers’ flashlights.

  Luke pushed forward. It was harder going with his single light. He started onto what he thought was a trail, but it soon dwindled and disappeared. He moved slowly, searching the ground for any clues that Digger had passed through. But he was only one pair of eyes now. If Digger was lying in the reeds unconscious, Luke might walk right by him and never know it.

  Luke paused and checked his watch. It was time to signal Emily. Standing in the darkness with his single beam of light, he was suddenly grateful for the whistle. He blew on it sharply, took a breath, and blew again.

  He sighed and looked around, wondering if he should walk in a new direction.

  Then he heard a sound, coming from deep in the marsh. Something moving, pushing through the reeds. He held his breath, listening, praying it wasn’t just a deer or one last volunteer who had gotten separated from the group.

  Then he heard a dog barking. A few staccato barks, thin and forced, as if the dog had been at it for hours and its voice and energy were just about gone.

  Grace’s dog, he thought. She must be trapped back there. Was Digger with her? They could have easily been separated back here. . . .

  Luke pointed his light in the direction of the barking sound and plunged into the reeds again. He put the whistle to his lips and blew hard.

  The dog soon barked in answer, and Luke moved toward the sound. He felt a surge of energy, and despite his feet feeling like blocks of ice in the rubber boots, he moved through the rushes quickly, a goal finally in sight.

  Every few yards, Luke blew the whistle, eliciting more excited yelps from the dog. As far as he could tell, the sound continued to come from the same spot, and Luke wondered why the dog didn’t run toward him. She must be wounded or stuck in something. He hoped she wasn’t badly hurt.

  Finally, Luke pushed aside some branches, pointed his light, and spotted the dog in a small clearing. Panting, she stood still, then looked at him and wagged her tail. She didn’t look hurt, Luke thought. He wondered why she hadn’t run to him, then realized maybe the flashlight had scared her.

  He pointed his light down on the ground and moved forward. “Daisy, here girl,” he called out softly. He patted the side of his leg. “Come on, girl.”

  The big yellow Labrador tossed her head back and barked again, even more loudly. She suddenly turned and leaped, disappearing into the nearby brush.

  “Daisy! Come on, Daisy,” Luke called, running after her. He quickly crossed the clearing, then plunged into the brush, unmindful of the branches and vines cutting his face and hands.

  After a few terrible moments in which he was sure he had lost the dog, he spotted her standing near a thicket, whining and pushing at something on the ground with her nose. At the sound of his footsteps she looked up and barked at him.

  Luke felt his blood run cold. He stepped forward, flashed his light on the ground and was finally sure of what he saw.

  It was Digger, lying facedown on the ground, his arms and legs at strange angles. Luke dropped to the ground. Gently, he turned him o
ver and felt his neck for a pulse. It was weak, but the old man was still alive. Just barely.

  “Thank you, God. Thank you for helping us find him,” Luke mumbled, as he pulled open the scarf at Digger’s neck to check his breathing. He was breathing, but his skin color was bad, pale and bluish. He needed medical attention immediately. Luke hoped it wasn’t already too late.

  He pulled off his jacket and bundled it around Digger like a blanket. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do until the EMS crew got to him, Luke thought.

  Suddenly Digger stirred. He opened his eyes and looked at Luke, though Luke wasn’t at all sure that the old man recognized him. Then Luke felt Digger grasp his hand, his eyes filled with emotion. Luke leaned toward him. “You’re going to be all right, Digger. Don’t worry. I’m going to get help. I’ll be right back.”

  Digger stared at him a moment longer, then closed his eyes. The effort of replying was too much for him, Luke realized.

  Luke rose and ran back in the direction he had come, pushing through the reeds with all his strength. He remembered the whistle and began to blow on it again, as hard and fast as he could.

  He hadn’t gone far when he saw several beams of light coming toward him. It was Sanborn, Emily, and a police officer. “Luke, are you all right?” Emily called out to him.

  “I found Digger. He’s alive!” Luke shouted. “Get the stretcher!”

  The lights came closer, and Sanborn reached him first. His expression was a mixture of anger and relief. “Where is he?”

  “Through these reeds, not far. Follow me,” Luke said, leading the way. Sanborn paused and took out the radio to call for the EMS crew before following Luke.

  When Luke reached Digger again, he suddenly remembered Daisy. He glanced around for the dog, hoping she hadn’t run away again. With a sense of relief, he saw her resting at Digger’s booted feet, still panting, but looking as if she knew her job was done.

  Sanborn pushed into the clearing and squatted down at Digger’s side. He then checked the pulse in the old man’s neck.