"As soon as I could collect my wits. Gib Campbell was on patrol duty, and he was there in three minutes. The prowler had gone, of course."
"You weren't able to see his face?" "The outdoor lights weren't on, unfortunately." "You should always leave them on when you go out in the evening."
"I thought I'd be home before dark; the days are so long in June."
A specific dread swept over Qwilleran. "I don't like the sound of this, Polly. I'd better get back to Pickax. I'll leave tomorrow morning."
"But your vacation has only just begun!" "I'm canceling it. I can't have anything happening to you."
"It's a sweet thought, dear, but—" "No buts! Can you stay home until I arrive?" "I have to be at the library tomorrow and Monday." "Well, don't go anywhere after work, and if you see anyone who looks the least bit suspect, ask for a police escort. I'll be home Tuesday and I'll call you every night while I'm on the road."
"Qwill, dear, you shouldn't do this." "I'm doing it because I love you, Polly! Now hang up so I can call Brodie!"
Qwilleran called the Pickax police chief at his home. "Andy, I'm sorry to bother you. Do you know about the prowler on Goodwinter Boulevard tonight?"
"Just happened to pick it up on my radio on the way from the lodge meeting. Campbell responded. No trace.
The prowler was after Polly. He was waiting for her when she came home."
"Where are you?" Brodie asked.
Tm still in the Potato Mountains, but I'm leaving for Pickax tomorrow. This worries me, Andy. Polly's connection with me is well known around the county — around Lockmaster County, too. I'm a prime prospect for a ransom demand."
"You're talking about . . . kidnapping? We've never had a kidnap case in a hundred years!"
"Things are changing. Outsiders are coming in, and you can expect more incidents. I'll be home Tuesday. What can you do about it in the meantime?"
"We'll step up the patrols on Goodwinter, and I'll talk to Polly tomorrow — see that she gets a ride to work. We don't want to lose a good librarian!"
After the two calls to Pickax, Qwilleran paced the floor anxiously, and the roaring of the wind added to his agitation. Soon the nightly downpour started, hitting the veranda roofs and the upstairs windows like hailstones. Before retiring, he packed for the journey and assembled his luggage in the foyer. The Siamese were nervous, and he allowed them to stay in his room. They promptly fell asleep, but the events of the day churned in his mind.
Sometime in the middle of the night, as he was tossing restlessly and listening to the wind and rain, a sudden, deafening roar drowned out all other sounds. It was like a locomotive crashing into the side of the house, like a jet shearing off the mountaintop, like an earthquake, a tornado, and a tidal wave! He turned the switch on his bedside lamp, but the power was off. Gradually the booming pandemonium receded into the distance, and he ventured downstairs with the bedside flashlight and even stepped out onto the veranda. Nothing seemed to be damaged, but there was an unearthly moaning on the mountain.
Somehow he made it through the night, trying the radio on batteries from time to time, but the local station never transmitted after midnight. When he finally managed to catch a few hours' sleep, he was aroused by the fitful behavior of the Siamese, pouncing on and off the bed. The sheriffs helicopter was circling the mountain.
Once more he tried the radio and found the station on emergency programming. Along with directives, warnings, and pleas for volunteers, there was this repeated announcement:
"Big Potato Mountain and parts of Spudsboro have been declared a disaster area, following the collapse of Lake Batata Dam early this morning. The dam burst at 3:45 A.M., dumping tons of water down the mountainside, washing out sections of Hawk's Nest Drive, and destroying homes on the drive as well as certain commercial buildings on Center Street and at Five Points. The Yelly-hoo River, already overflowing its banks, has been swollen by the rush of water from the artificial lake, and it is now feared that debris carried down the mountainside will collect in the Yellyhoo south of town and dam the rampaging flood water from the north. Residents on both sides of the river are being evacuated. The power has failed in most of the county, and most subscribers are without telephone service. The hospital, municipal buildings, and communications centers are operating on emergency generators. At this hour there is no report on casualties. The sheriff's helicopter is searching for survivors. Stand by for further information."
CHAPTER 18
"We're trapped!" Qwilleran said to the cats after hearing the news of the Batata washout. "It could be days before we get out of here! And we don't have a phone, water, refrigeration, or even a cup of coffee! Don't sit there blinking! What shall we do?"
