Chapter 23 “Toby!” His name was shouted throughout the darkened forest for nearly thirty minutes, echoing under the spitting sleet that dropped from the sky.
Their cries had prompted no response and the men from the Winston police department lost track of the boy’s trail. They knew he’d made it at least to the other side of the creek, but couldn’t find much sign of him beyond where his footprints had disappeared into the underbrush. The only crumb of comfort came from the fact that the unusually large footprints, which were assumed to belong to the killer, could not be found in pursuit of the boy. They instead led to an area behind some trees where tire tracks revealed that a car had been parked. Lumbergh called on Ron Oldhorse.
It was fair to say that Oldhorse was an eccentric, a term t
