Stuart Woods - Dark Harbor

“Anything in the workshop?” Young asked.

“Nothing.”

Rhinehart turned to Stone. “This is because of my record, isn’t it?”

“Hal, they’re searching every house and outbuilding on the island,” Stone replied. “Every structure has to be cleared, and the woods and beaches, too. It was just your turn.”

Rhinehart nodded.

“I think we’re about done here,” Young said.

They all trooped up the stairs. Young thanked Rhinehart and apologized for the intrusion, and the four men got into Young’s cruiser.

“I guess that clears Rhinehart,” Young said.

“I guess so,” Stone replied.

“I’m taking you home so you can get some rest.”

“All right.”

Young dropped Stone at the top of the driveway. “I’ll call you the minute we find anything.”

Stone noted that he didn’t say “Holly” or “her.” She had already become an object.

STONE WENT BACK TO THE HOUSE, and Mabel brought a sandwich on a tray to the study.

“You look terrible,” she said. “Eat; you need your strength.”

“Mabel, when was the last time you saw Holly?”

“Well, after you left for your lunch appointment, she had a sandwich, then she did some work in that little room of Dick’s while I was vacuuming, then she changed into her running clothes and went out. I saw her stretching when I took out the garbage.”

“What time was that?”

“Pretty close to one o’clock,” she replied.

Stone looked at his watch. Holly had been missing for twenty-four hours. After that long, the chance of recovering her alive fell off sharply as the hours passed. And after forty-eight hours, she was very likely dead.

There were exceptions, he knew, and that was what kept the hopes of friends and relatives of missing people alive. There was that girl out in Utah who was kidnapped and held for more than a year. But that rarely happened.

Thinking of friends and family, he suddenly had an awful thought: He had not called Hamilton Barker, Holly’s retired master-sergeant father. He opened his address book and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Ham?”

“Yep.”

“It’s Stone Barrington.”

Ham’s voice brightened. “Hey, Stone, how are you?”

“Not so good.”

He became wary. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Holly; she’s disappeared.”

“What do you mean, ”disappeared“?”

“First of all, Holly and I are on an island in Maine called Islesboro. There have been some kidnappings and murders here; some of them were women.”

“Anybody who tried to kidnap Holly would have his hands full,” Ham said.

“I know that,” Stone agreed. “Nevertheless, she went out jogging yesterday at this time, and she hasn’t been seen since. A search of the whole island is under way, but she hasn’t been found yet.”

“What’s the name of the island again?”

“Islesboro; it’s in Penobscot Bay.”

“Hang on a minute.” Ham left the phone, and Stone could hear him talking to a woman, probably Ginny, his girlfriend. “Stone, I’ve got an atlas here. I see Penobscot Bay.”

“It’s a long, narrow island off Camden.”

“Got it. Does it have an airport?”

“Yes.”

“Here’s Ginny, tell her about it.”

Ginny picked up an extension. “Hello, Stone?”

“Yes, Ginny. Nice to hear your voice.”

“Tell me about the airport.”

“It’s a paved strip, twenty-four hundred feet long; the runways are one and one niner. The identifier is five seven bravo, and the unicorn frequency is 122.9.”

Ham spoke up. “We’re on our way, Stone. We’ll call you from our fuel stop and give you an ETA. Can you meet us?”

“Wait a minute, Ham,” Stone said. “The strip is unlighted, and there’s no way you can get here before dark in… what are you flying?”

“A Bonanza B-36TC,” Ginny replied. “We just bought it.”

“It’s a good twelve hundred nautical miles, so you’re at least six or seven hours away; even with a tailwind by the time you’re airborne it will be mid-afternoon.”

“We’re coming,” Ham said.

“I want you to come, Ham, but please, at least spend the night at your fuel stop. There are trees at the southern end of the runway and a house at the other end. It’s a short strip, and you do not want to land there at night.”

“He’s right, Ham,” Ginny said. “We’ll take off this afternoon, spend the night along the way and take off again early tomorrow morning. We’ll be there around mid-morning.”

“All right,” Ham said, resignedly.

“Call me when you take off tomorrow morning, give me your ETA and I’ll meet you at the strip.”

“Okay,” Ginny said. She gave him her cell phone number. “Call us if there’s any news. I’ll get the message at the fuel stop.”

“All right,” Stone said, “and I’ll have a bed for you here.”

Ham spoke up again. “Stone, where’s Daisy?”

“Holly left her in a kennel in New York.”

“Goodbye,” Ham said, and hung up.

Stone hung up. Now he was going to have a distraught father on his hands, not that Ham was the sort to show his distress.

The phone rang. “Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Lance. I’m sorry to take so long to get back to you, but I’ve had something of an emergency here. I tried to call Holly on her cell phone, but I was sent straight to voice mail. What’s happened?”

Stone told him, as briefly as possible.

“What’s being done?”

“The state cops have organized a search party, and they’re walking every inch of land and searching every house on the island.”

“Good. I may be able to help with that.”

“I think they’ve got it covered, Lance.”

“I have other ways of covering it. I can’t get there before tomorrow morning, though. Will you meet me at the airport?”

“Of course. What time?”

“Let’s aim for eleven o’clock. I’ll call you if there’s any change in my ETA.”

“Lance, a favor. Will you bring Dino with you?”

“Of course.”

“And bring sidearms.”

“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“One other thing: Bring Daisy.”

“She’s not with Holly?”

“No, she’s in a kennel. I don’t know which one.”

“I’ll find her. See you tomorrow.”

Stone hung up feeling a little better. Help was on the way.

STONE STOOD AT THE Islesboro airstrip and scanned the skies. Seth Hotchkiss stood beside him.

“There,” Seth said, pointing.

Stone followed Seth’s finger to a black dot low in the sky. “You have an eagle eye, Seth.”

“So did my daddy. Runs in the family. Which lot is in this airplane?” Seth had brought his pickup truck to help.

Stone squinted. “This is the Bonanza, I think. Holly’s father, Ham, and his girlfriend, Ginny, who’s the pilot, will be in that. I’d like you to take them back to the house and get them settled in a guest room, while I wait for the other bunch. I’ll put Lance and Dino in the guest house.”

“Ayup,” Seth replied.

The Bonanza was straight in for runway one now, and he saw the landing gear come down and heard Ginny reducing power. She cleared the trees and dropped the airplane on the numbers, braking hard. Stone stood on the tarmac, his hands raised, to show her where to park.

Ham was out of the airplane immediately, even though Ginny had to let the engine idle for five minutes to allow the turbocharger to cool before shutting down.

“How are you, Ham?” Stone asked, shaking his hand.

“Not good. Any news?”

Stone shook his head. “Let’s hope no news is good news. Shall we get your gear into the truck?”