Tempe watched the state cops work the scene at the home but was more interested in the odd couple in the unmarked sedan. He knew the driver was a cop but the older man he was driving around didn’t seem to be a candidate. He was obviously crippled and pale, gaunt as if he was suffering from disease or recovering from an accident. Yet, the rookie cop deferred to him as if he were a superior. In his manner, the sick man was cop-like, his gaze penetrating and measuring. When the man entered the Hall alone, Tempe waited for an hour, but he never saw the older cop exit. The rookie driver left after punching something into the dash computer.
Tempe followed, staying far enough behind that the young cop couldn’t make him. He snickered to himself, knowing that his boy had run away, managing to outwit both the asshole school Director and the cops. He eyed the surrounding woods, not unlike those of his home state with which Cris was very familiar. Tempe would bet that the boy was heading deep into the forest with the intention of camping and hunting his way home. If he remembered home. Tempe wasn’t sure how much the boy remembered from before the accident. If he knew his mother was dead, if he remembered his name or where he had lived. He might, the Deputy thought, return to the town where his mother had hidden from him for the year both had been missing. Yet, in the whole year he had lain in a coma, not one neighbor or friend had come forward to claim that they knew John Doe.
Neige looked up a Google map of the intersection he was sitting at; where a paved two-lane road crossed a graveled one. The sign said that it was part of the South Hill State Forest and the road was a seasonal one– open only from spring to November.
Nearby was an old gravel pit and a handful of caves with the largest one called Salt. Natives to the area had mined it for salt in the years before white men had arrived and then shared it with the settlers. The last time it had been mined and in use was the 1870’s and rumor had it that it was part of the Underground Railroad network.
He parked on the trail opening and walked until he saw the Search and Rescue people setting up an operation center with state cops and men in suits covered with FBI windbreakers. They were talking in segregated groups and eyeballed the rookie as he drove by in the unmarked. No one said anything to the driver but merely stared as the car went slowly past the cluster of Federal people.
On a hunch, Neige went back to his truck and took the road toward the other spot on Google map – a small town called Unadilla. By the time he reached city limits, he had no idea where he was supposed to drive but he did see a small woman walking the streets holding the long lead of an enormous bloodhound. The dog was obviously on a scent as he took his handler through town, across the railroad tracks and to an auction barn. Neige knew immediately what the place was and not just by the familiar smell. He laughed. His eleven-year-old son was not only holding his own against the nation’s elite police force, but he was beating them at their own game. Against both the State Police and the FBI.
His truck looked right at home in the lot with trailers and unless someone noticed his out-of-state license plates, he would just be another cowboy looking for a bargain. He parked and went inside the sale barn, caught the eye of a heavy older man in Carharrt jacket who looked remarkably like the other two men he was with.
“When’s the sale?” the Deputy asked.
“Every other Friday,” he was told.
“What’s going on? I’ve seen Staties all over the neighborhood.”
“Some kid ran away. We think he stole a horse from the sale barn.”
“You have any riding stock on hand?” Tempe asked. “Plus, tack?”
He older man eyed him. “Where you from?”
“Louisiana, that explains the accent,” Neige grinned. “I’m up here for a Law Enforcement Conference. Deputy Boudreaux.”
The man stuck out his horny palm and they shook, each vying for the hardest grip. Tempe let the man win.
“Chambers. Dan Chambers, my brothers Carl and Pete. My father owns this place and Susquehanna Stables. What are you looking for?”
“A good trail horse. Big enough to carry me and camping gear all day. Tack to go with it. Can you help me out?”
“Come on over to the stables and we’ll show you a few,” Dan Chambers offered.
“Which way do they think the kid took?” he asked casually, and Dan pointed behind the auction barn.
“He headed that way. Southwest. Goes into some pretty rough country.”
“If he keeps to the same direction where will it bring him out?” Neige asked.
Chambers asked abruptly, “what’s it to you?”
Instantly, the Deputy’s eyes flared, and the older man took a step back, holding his hands out. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just that the Staties have been asking questions along with the FBI and some detective from the city.”
“NYPD? Up here? Why?”
“He didn’t say. Why are you interested in a runaway kid?”
“Because he’s my son,” Neige said and walked off.
“What about the horse?” Chambers called after him.
Neige turned around. “Shove it up your fat ass.”
The three closed ranks as the Deputy entered his truck and pulled out onto the road toward the Interstate, his intention to follow the trail left by the lame detective and the rookie cop.
On the assumption that there weren’t that many places for the pair to rent a room, he drove by the handful of bed and breakfasts where he spotted the Crown Vic in the parking lot. He sneered his disdain. His department had gone to the newer Ford Interceptors, a much better chase vehicle.
The car was parked in a wheelchair slot, so he assumed that the cop was in the closest room to the car. Neige didn’t want to go in and ask which room number, he didn’t want the clerk telling the detective that someone was asking about him. Instead, he put a burner phone in the back seat through a cracked window, turning on the locator app. With it, he could follow the New York City cop without being tagged.
Watching for a while, he left when it was apparent that neither cop nor detective was going out again. He had to check in at his own hotel or lose his reservation. Next on his agenda was finding a decent place to eat.