The Galaxy's suspension groaned in protest as Steve navigated the unmarked police car around another tight curve into the higher elevations. They'd left the blacktop behind several miles ago, fighting the large sedan through dirt roads and the occasional stretch of crushed concrete on their steady travel to the Hollow Springs campground.
"You do know we don't have four-wheel drive on this thing, right?"
Steve's voice was strained after an hour of intense maneuvering through the mountainous terrain.
There hadn't been much time to enjoy the different stands of pine trees and lush meadows, as he tried to keep the Galaxy from leaving the increasingly deteriorating back roads. Even the peaceful chirping of birds he was promised was currently being drowned out by the roar of the powerful V8 engine, as the sedan slowly climbed uphill.
"Says here another two miles and then there should be a sign pointing to the right. The campground is a half mile from there.", Mike answered undisturbed and readjusted his black reading glasses, as he studied the map in his lap intently.
Another pothole from a recent washout shook the car and its occupants violently, causing Mike to nearly lose his grip on the file and map, and sending some of the paperwork from the backseat onto the floor.
"Can you try not to hit every rut there is?"
"You think I am doing this on purpose?!", Steve countered exasperated and pointed at the rugged road ahead, "These washouts are everywhere. I can't avoid them. Matter of fact, I think I just lost a filling."
Chuckling amicably for a moment, Mike rolled up the map and used it to hit his partner upside the head, before taking in his surroundings again.
"Well, if Emily and her two girlfriends made it to the campground in their Buick, then we should be able to do the same. They have had some heavy rains here in the past couple of weeks. They're probably to blame for this mess. That's about the only thing I agree with the Sherriff on."
As Steve steered the Galaxy around another steep curve, the road grade suddenly improved. Judging by the change of the surface color, somebody had gone through quite a bit of trouble to add several loads of gravel to improve driving experience.
Sighing in relief, the young Inspector loosened his death grip around the steering wheel for the first time since their adventure began, and relaxed against the bench seat.
"Does it say anywhere in this brochure whether or not they keep the campground open year around? You'd think tourist numbers dwindle this time a year. We haven't seen a soul since we left town."
"Let me look…", putting the map aside, Mike rummaged through their thick case file, until he came across the R&I information regarding the campground, "Says here it's open year around, but several of the amenities do shut down between November and February."
"So if you break down out here, you're pretty much on your own. It's not like you can call a tow truck…"
Steve's lighthearted comment raised some warning flags in Mike's mind about the issue they had discussed earlier. If their organ ring truly used the services of a local towing company to select potential donors for their undoubtedly long client list, where were these people being transported to? And wouldn't they have to be sedated, or at least restrained to keep from fighting? What level of organizational structure were they digging into here?
He certainly couldn't wait for the R&I information he was promised for later this evening on everything related to the local towing companies.
As the terrain ahead leveled out, Mike was beginning to see the occasional pathways going off to the left and right, allowing hikers to reach different areas of the massive park. When they passed by a well-maintained two-track blocked off by a black metal gate, he was surprised to see an old house at the end of it.
"Almost looks like people have cottages up here. I guess it's as secluded and cozy as any place…", Mike mumbled and finally noted a large sign for the campground ahead.
Steve didn't answer right away, his green eyes fixated on the road, as he navigated the large police car skillfully around the last group of potholes, before turning right at the sign.
"That or maybe some ranger station. You do wonder what people do around here if something happens."
"Isn't that the fun of camping? Being out in the elements? On your own?"
Mike's gentle nudging did wonder to improve his partner's tense mood and Steve smiled, before looking over at the Lieutenant.
"Remember, I am a city boy. My idea of wilderness is chasing Clarence Hoby through the Tenderloin on foot. That's as much as I need."
They chuckled for the remainder of the short drive until Steve pulled the Galaxy into a deserted parking area surrounded by benches and a makeshift grilling pavilion used for family gatherings and picnics. A good four acres of trees had been cleared to create an opening for campers to spread out and enjoy. Off on either side of the campground were unisex toilets and showers, and the center featured a large three-sided map of the surroundings.
Mike couldn't make out any signs of recent activity as he got out of the car, immediately feeling the drop in temperature from the higher elevation. Leaving the paperwork on the dashboard and straightening out his black overcoat, he drew in a deep breath of fresh mountain air, savoring the brisk sensation it left in his lungs.
As he let his eyes drift over the open area, Mike noticed a two-track going off to the south into a denser portion of the forest. A small creek they'd crossed before getting to the camp ground had eaten its way into the mountain side from the north, growing increasingly deeper, as it continued its downward journey.
Evaluating the crime scene in his own fashion, Steve began to walk toward the east end, where, according to Julie, their tent had been pitched. Mike watched the gusty wind blow the young Inspector's beige overcoat and black dress jacket wide open, exposing the .38 Special clipped to his left hip.
About a few hundred feet out, Steve made a sharp left turn, his gaze focused on something on the ground.
"Hey Mike…"
The excitement in his partner's voice made him jog the short distance halfway between their crime scene and the two-track. By the time he reached Steve, the young Inspector was crouched down, using his ballpoint pen to lift something off the ground without touching it.
"What have you got?"
"A souvenir…of sorts…maybe evidence…"
Standing back up and sporting a victorious smile, Steve held up the small orange ball for Mike to see.
"What is it?", the Lieutenant asked, squinting his eyes, but unable to make out the writing.
"It's one of those antenna balls. Gas stations give them away for promotions and stuff. This one's from a Union 76."
Mike's head shot up in an instant, his eyes meeting those of the young Inspector intently.
"A Union 76 again, eh?"
Spinning around his axis to see if any other valuable debris could be found in the area, Mike pursed his lips, his mind suddenly going a million miles per hour. Glancing down the two-track behind them, he noted that was reasonably wide open, enough to suggest regular traffic during the busy season. And only fifty feet away were the bathrooms Emily Smith was supposedly heading to.
"This could have gotten ripped off during a struggle. Maybe she fought her abductor…"
Steve nodded, as he shoved their newest piece of evidence into a clear plastic bag for further processing.
"If our theory on the tow trucks is correct, he could have been parked here without anybody thinking anything of it. And if not here, he could have been sitting down that two-track a few hundred feet waiting. When I talked to Julie, she said there were only a handful of campers parked here when they showed up, and she wasn't sure if anybody was actually in them at the time, or had just parked them there for the season, because they never did see anybody."
Steve bit his lip nervously and ran a hand through his wavy hair, straightening out the damage caused by the wind.
"It doesn't figure…", Mike answered disappointedly and shook his head, before facing his partner again, "Think about it…if they're sleeping in a tent some…what…some four-hundred feet away…how could they have not heard a car go off? I mean, if there was a struggle, any commotion of sorts …there had to have been noises. Something those other two girls would have heard, even if nobody else was around."
Surprisingly, Steve raised his index finger, a wily smile playing on his lips.
"Well…just between you and me and the fencepost here, Mike, from what I gathered during the phone calls with both, Julie and Jolene, let's just say that there was a little bit more involved in that camping trip than just a friendly sleepover. Of course, that too never made it into the police report."
"They were doing drugs?"
"Mhm hm. Smoking grass. And drinking. They could have been so strung out that they never would have heard a car door slam if it was right next to them…"
Mike was about to validate Steve's excellent argument, when the noise of an approaching engine stopped both detectives in their tracks. Meeting his partner's worried green eyes for a brief second, Mike tilted his head to the side, hoping to get a better idea of where the sound was coming from.
His question was answered when a set of headlights appeared around a curve of their two-track just a few hundred feet out. A white pickup truck with a towing boom on the back slowly made its way down the road, causing a few smaller branches hanging askew to break off, as the large vehicle passed by.
"Of all the things…", Steve breathed and took a step back, following Mike's example, who had positioned himself off on the side and away from the road.
"Of all the things is right…"
As if to help ease his own mind, Mike put a protective arm in front of his younger partner, as the tow truck rolled past them undisturbed, the middle-aged Hispanic driver with the blue baseball cap nodding at them in acknowledgement.
The Lieutenant didn't need his glasses to see the unmistakable "Angel Towing" logo on the cab.
Both detectives stayed perfectly still as the large truck slowly crossed the campground, its rusty towing chains rattling continually as he drove past the parked Galaxy, before turning onto the dirt road they'd come in on.
"Okay…that was weird…"
Steve was the first one to snap out of the state of confusion. Reaching for the ignition keys in his pant pocket, he tried to step forward, but just like a railroad crossing gate, Mike's protective hand remained firmly in front of him.
"Don't you want to go after him?", the young Inspector wondered, his eyebrows raised.
"No.", Mike said and slowly lowered his hand, glancing down the two-track, before pointing at the parked Galaxy, "If we trust the map, there aren't many places for him to go to other than back into town. What I want to know is where he came from…Now, you are the only person I know who can drive this tank as smoothly as a sportscar and make it do things it's not intended to do…do you think you can take it down this road safely?"
Hesitating for a moment, Steve followed his lead and gauged the structure of the two-track ahead, his eyes narrowing as he went over the task in his mind.
"The tracks are pretty deep in the back corner there, we're going to have to make sure that we stay centered so we don't ground out the frame. I also saw some mud sprayed onto the fenders of that tow truck. We'd better be on the lookout for deep puddles. Otherwise yeah, I can take a stab at it. You've promised me some change of scenery. Time to take you up on it."