The search continued for four and a half days, with the unrelenting tenacity of a hungry bull dog on a soup bone. With each passing hour, the hope that my wife and young Molly were alive diminished but to give credit where due, the searchers never let up in their fervor. Painstakingly, the men and women visited each and every building in an incredibly wide area while dogs sniffed the surrounding woodland for bodies or a recent grave.
There were leads, but few. A dog-walking elderly gentleman swore he sighted the much publicized blue van and the search swung to that area. The authorities secured the van's mileage from the previous owner and carefully attempted to construct miles driven to pin-point Grasso's hideout. The result tended to show it was relatively close by. Real estate records were scoured for any known relative of the now deceased murderer in an attempt to locate family owned property, a difficult chore as mother Grasso wedded three men and lived with countless others.
Detective Dick surmised Grasso had telephoned Howie from the hideout and then driven to the rendezvous. The time between the recorded call and the fatal crash was such to give further credence that the kidnapper held his captors nearby. These conclusions only added to the frustration of not locating the nearby lair.
Assistant Director Summerfield announced to the press at the height of the search, more than two hundred officers and volunteers were involved. The hoard represented thousands of man hours yet all their efforts proved unsuccessful.
Beneath a barn in the Hills above Santa Barbara, California. I knew I had only bought time for Molly and I and our captor would soon learn of the nonsense I'd fed him and be done with me. I just hoped and prayed somehow his contact of Ben or Howie could be used to locate us. Not with standing this, I resolved not to do all in my power to keep Molly from suffering his abuse. I had made a promise to her and I intended to keep it, regardless of the outcome.
I considered using the tools available as weapons but dismissed the action as folly. He was simply far too wise to allow me the opportunity. The possibility of escape was nil so secure was our twelve foot square cell. Concrete walls surrounded us and the door, the only opening was a massive solid wood hulk. The ceiling above us was divided with half the room beneath a concrete slab and the remainder under what appeared as thick planking, well out of reach to either of us.
Than an idea struck me; if we were sealed in, why not seal him out? I discussed my proposal with Molly who with wisdom beyond her years, agreed. We discussed the risks, but only briefly. Yes, I considered we might die here but it was a relief to take action, no matter how perilous. The barn was far enough from the house so he would not hear our hammering. The nails were heavy duty and we drove them vigorously and in abundance until our arms gave out! We were sealed from our captor! But sealed from freedom as well.