The Search

  “Bodies, not cadavers. I hate that word. It dehumanizes.” She shaded her eyes. “How far out could a car hit the water?”

  “It depends on how fast the car was going.” He pointed to a hill a few miles away. “If it bounced and went off that incline at a high speed, it could be thirty, forty feet out. If it went into the water here, it could be right underneath us.”

  “It’s not right underneath us. Monty would tell me.” She settled back in the boat. “But we’ll start close to the shore.”

  12

  “It’s about time you got here.” Logan came out of the cabin as Galen parked by the front door. “Hurry. I need to take your rental car.”

  “I’ve been exactly two and a half hours,” Galen said as he got out of the car. “And that’s extraordinary considering I was in Dodsworth when you called. Really, Logan, you can’t yank me around all over the country if you expect me to find Rudzak.”

  “This is important.”

  “She’s all right, you know. I told you she called me to verify Henry Smith’s identity. She’s not being stupid and Smith will watch her.”

  Logan got into the driver’s seat. “I want to go myself.”

  “Then why didn’t you? Why bring me here?”

  He started the car. “Maggie.”

  “Maggie?”

  “The wolf. Someone Sarah trusts has to take care of her.”

  “You want me to baby-sit a wolf? That’s not in my job description.”

  “You don’t have a job description. And if you had one, it would be censored. Maggie’s on the back porch. I just changed her bandage, but if I’m not back in a few hours, check it again.”

  “You’d better be back. I’m not too enthusiastic about—”

  Logan was gone.

  Galen shook his head as he watched the taillights disappear. It wasn’t like Logan to roar off in a panic when there was no clear-cut danger. But then, Rudzak had always been the exception to any rule with Logan. Ever since that time with Chen—

  Galen jumped as a piercing howl broke the silence.

  “Jesus.” He turned and went into the cabin. Back porch, Logan had said.

  Maggie lifted her head and snarled when he appeared in the doorway. What the hell had Logan gotten him into? Change a bandage? The wolf wouldn’t let him near her.

  He’d better find a way. “Hello.” He moved slowly toward her. “Aren’t you a beauty. It seems we’ve got to become each other’s best friend.” Maggie didn’t take her malevolent gaze from him. “I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I don’t trust many people either.” He sat down a short distance away and crossed his legs. “But we’re probably a lot alike. So I’ll just sit here and talk a bit to you.”

  The last rays of the setting sun were casting scarlet streaks over the lake and Monty still hadn’t indicated a find.

  “Does Monty need to go ashore again?” Chavez asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Monty’s concentration was so intense on water searches that he had to take frequent breaks to prevent burning out. “It’s been only about forty minutes.”

  “It seems longer.”

  It seemed longer to her too. Time was dragging as the tension built.

  “Should we go in and start again tomorrow?” Chavez asked.

  “No, not unless we’ve covered all the territory. Darkness doesn’t make any difference to Monty.”

  “I hoped you’d say that. I want to go back and tell those parents we searched the entire area and didn’t find anything.” He guided the boat out farther into the water. “I’ll stay as long as you will. But are you sure Monty can tell if there’s anyone under the water?”

  “As sure as I can be,” she said tersely. “If you didn’t think Monty could do it, why did you send for me?”

  “Sorry.” He held up his hands. “I don’t know much about the technicalities of water rescue. I just wanted to do what I could for those parents.”

  “I know.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess I’m kind of tense. Maybe they’re not in the lake. God, I hope not.”

  “But if they’re here, Monty will find them? How does he do it?”

  “The body of a drowning victim releases invisible skin particles. The particles have their own vapors and oil and gas secretions that are lighter than water and rise from any depth to the surface. The minute they come into contact with air, the particles form the narrowest point of a widening scent cone. Monty will recognize the cone and follow it back to the area of heaviest concentration.”

  “Incredible.”

  “Training. Monty and I spent an entire summer learning how to locate underwater victims. We were both pretty waterlogged by the time we got it right.” She patted Monty’s head. “He is pretty incredible. His ability to pick up a scent is fifty-eight times greater than any human’s and his sensitivity to particular molecules may be thousands of times greater.”

  “Impressive. Then, if he doesn’t find a scent, we can assume they’re not here?”

  She shook her head. “If there’s heavy algae, it could trap the scent. Layers of cold water can do the same thing. There are other factors that can interfere, but Monty’s been able to locate the—”

  Monty barked.

  “Shit.” So much for hoping those kids were safe.

  Monty began running back and forth in the boat, his head down, pointing at the water.

  “He’s found something.” Her hand tightened on the leash. “Cut the motor and let the boat drift.” When Chavez obeyed, she sat still, watching. Monty was excited, but he hadn’t found the source yet. “Start the motor, but keep it very slow. Go first to the right and then to the left.”

  When they’d turned left and gone a few yards, Monty went crazy. He strained at the leash, trying to paw and nip at the water.

  “Here.” She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. “Throw out a buoy to mark the spot.”

  Mark the spot. Mark this spot so those parents could find their children. Lately it seemed as if she always had to just mark the spot and go on.

  “Are you okay?”

  Her gaze left the yellow buoy floating on the water to see Chavez staring at her sympathetically. “I’m fine.” She smiled crookedly. “No, I’m lying. I was hoping I wouldn’t find anything. Let’s get out of here. I’m having trouble holding Monty.”

  “You warned me he’d try to jump in the water.” He started the motor. “Do you need my help?”

  “No. As soon as the excitement passes, he’ll realize they’re dead and he can’t save them.”

  And neither could she.

  “It doesn’t have to be those kids,” Chavez said. “Couldn’t it be an animal or—”

  “No, Monty knows the difference. It’s at least one human being.”

  Monty had stopped fighting the leash and was looking back at the spot marked by the buoy.

  Save.

  “You can’t save them, boy.”

  He was already realizing he couldn’t save them, and she could sense the sadness.

  Help.

  “You did help.”

  Monty lifted his head and howled mournfully.

  She stared at him in surprise. She was used to hearing him bark, even whimper, but he’d never given vent to that eerie sound before.

  Maggie’s influence?

  He howled again.

  “Christ,” Chavez muttered. “He gives me the creeps.”

  “He’s upset.” She reached out and stroked Monty’s head. “He’ll be better soon.”

  “Sorry.” Chavez grimaced. “Let him howl. I suppose we owe him a big debt.”

  “We’ll know that when you get a scuba team out here.”

  “I’ll put in a call right away.” Chavez cut the motor as they neared the shore. He jumped out of the boat and guided it onto the bank. “Though I’d better tell them to report tomorrow morning. It’s dark now, and trying to locate wreckage underwater can be dangerous enough in daylight.”

  “Will you tell the parents
tonight?”

  He shook his head as he helped her from the boat. “It won’t hurt to give them one more night of hope. Hell, maybe your Monty is wrong. Maybe that million-dollar nose has a cold or something.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She nibbled at her lower lip as she urged Monty from the boat. His tail was tucked between his legs, and he lay down on the bank and stared out at the water. This wasn’t good. She constantly had to fight to keep Monty from going into deep depression. Sometimes it took weeks to bring him out of it. She turned to Chavez. “Will you do me a favor?”

  He looked at her inquiringly.

  “Go hide in the woods.”

  “What?”

  “Go hide and let Monty find you.”

  “I haven’t got time for games. I have to go and make my report.”

  “Ten minutes. That’s all I ask. It will help Monty. It’s a form of therapy. A rescue dog gets terribly depressed when he finds only the dead. Monty needs to find someone alive.”

  “I shouldn’t waste—” He looked down at Monty. “Poor mutt.”

  “Just ten minutes.”

  “Okay.” He took out his phone. “I guess I can phone in a preliminary report while I’m hiding.” He made a face. “Though you can bet I’m not telling anyone I’m playing hide-and-seek with a golden retriever. Do you need anything of mine to let him sniff?”

  “Your cap will do. I’ll give you five minutes’ head start. Just hide in the woods somewhere. But don’t make it too easy.”

  He took off his black cap and handed it to her. “Ten minutes.”

  “Right. Thanks, Sergeant.”

  He smiled. “No problem. We wouldn’t want him to have psychological problems.” He started up the incline. “Jesus, what am I saying?”

  She watched his shadowy figure disappear into the darkness. Nice guy. He had made the search as easy as possible, and not many officers would have been willing to go out of their way to accommodate a dog.

  Monty whimpered, his gaze still on the water.

  She knelt beside him and put her arms around his neck. “It’s okay. You did good work today. In a few minutes we’ll go find someone else and then we’ll go home. You’ll see Maggie. Won’t that be nice?”

  Monty nuzzled his head against her shoulder. At least he wasn’t staring out at the water any longer. She held Chavez’s cap beneath his nose. “Smell. He’s lost. Soon we’re going to have to go find him.”

  Gone?

  “No, he’s alive. Only lost.”

  She felt a little lost herself just then. Lost and discouraged and alone. She wanted to go back to the cabin and see Maggie and then curl up beside Logan and close out the world.

  Logan. She had tried to shut out the thought of him all afternoon; only now and then had the memory of the night before filtered through. But now it would do no harm to think about him, and she needed warmth and passion to shake off the knowledge that those poor kids were—

  Stop thinking about them. Take care of Monty and then leave and go home to Logan. She stood up and took out her flashlight from her utility belt. “One more sniff.” She unhooked his leash and passed the cap beneath Monty’s nose. “Find.”

  He bounded up the incline toward the road.

  She caught up with him deep in the woods a few minutes later when he paused to scent the air. He was quivering, excited, his whole being concentrating on the job at hand.

  Good. That’s what you need. Forget death. Find life. She held out the hat, but he ignored it and turned and raced off to the south. He’d caught the cone.

  She ran after him, her flashlight spearing the darkness ahead.

  Bushes.

  She ducked around them, but one branch caught her arm as she passed.

  A gnarled fallen log.

  Jump over it.

  The ground on the other side of the log was muddy, and she slipped. She caught herself and ran on.

  She could see Monty ahead, stretched out, in a dead run up the hill ahead. He reached the top and stopped, his head lifted, silhouetted against the night sky. He looked back at her and barked.

  We’ve got you, Chavez.

  A moment later Monty disappeared as he tore down the other side of the hill.

  Sarah stopped a moment to catch her breath. She could afford a minute before she went down to praise Monty. He’d be so proud and happy that maybe he’d forget—

  Someone was behind her.

  She whirled around.

  No one.

  Nothing.

  But someone was there.

  Something is watching, Chavez had said.

  She had laughed and made a joke about a bear. She didn’t feel like laughing now. The fine hairs at the back of her neck were lifting.

  “Smith?” It had to be Henry Smith. He had said he was going to keep an eye on her.

  No answer.

  Her hand tightened on the flashlight, and she forced herself to cast the beam slowly over the terrain. Trees, shrubs, boulders. So many places to hide. Anyone could be—

  Monty howled.

  He’d found Chavez. Relief surged through her. She wasn’t alone. She had Monty and Chavez. She bolted up the hill and then down the other side. She could see Monty now. He was sitting near a pile of boulders, his head lifted. Chavez must be behind the—

  Monty howled again.

  She skidded to a stop. It wasn’t right. Monty always indicated a find by barking and running back to her. He shouldn’t be sitting there, howling.

  She moved forward slowly, her flashlight focused on the boulders. “Monty?”

  He didn’t move. His gaze was fastened on something hidden behind the boulders.

  “Sergeant? He’s found you. It’s all right to come—”

  Then she saw him.

  His uniformed body was facedown on the ground.

  And the hilt of a knife was sticking out of his back.

  Monty edged closer. Help.

  She couldn’t help Chavez, she realized, sick. That knife had been driven through his body, pinning him to the ground. Who could have—

  A twig cracked on the path behind her.

  Her heart leaped to her throat.

  Something is watching.

  “Monty!” She flew down the hill, past the boulders. “Monty, come!”

  Running footsteps behind her.

  Knife. Knife in the back. Knife tearing through flesh.

  All she had as a weapon was the flashlight.

  Monty was running ahead of her down the path.

  Suffocating darkness. Where was she going?

  It didn’t matter. Follow Monty.

  Footsteps pounding behind her.

  Faster. Go faster.

  A break in the trees up ahead. She could see light.

  The rest stop. Relief tore through her as Monty stopped and looked back at her, waiting.

  “Go.” She spurted ahead and out on the concrete tarmac. A car she recognized was parked beside the building. Henry Smith’s car, and he was sitting behind the wheel.

  Thank God.

  She glanced over her shoulder as she ran toward Smith’s car.

  No one.

  But someone was there. She knew it. She could feel it.

  She pounded on the window of the car as Monty bounded excitedly around her.

  Smith didn’t look at her. Why the hell didn’t he—

  Because there was a small round hole in his temple.

  She backed away from the car.

  Dead. Dead. Dead.

  Smith dead. Chavez dead.

  And someone was back there in the woods, watching, coming closer.

  “Sarah.”

  She whirled and threw her flashlight at the man coming toward her.

  Logan grunted as the flashlight struck him in the chest. “Dammit, that hurt. Why couldn’t you—”

  “Logan.” She threw herself into his arms. “Dead. They’re all—” She couldn’t stop shaking. “And he’s out there. He was running after—” She tore out of his arms.
“We have to get out of the light. I thought I was safe. He has a knife. . . . But Smith was shot. He must have a gun too.”

  “Easy,” Logan said. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

  “The hell they’re not.” Logan. No one must hurt Logan. She couldn’t bear it if— She pulled him toward the building. “Get inside.”

  He only moved to stand in front of her. “It’s safe.” His gaze raked the woods surrounding them. “Look up the road.”

  Headlights. Two Sheriff’s Department patrol cars were coming toward them.

  She went limp with relief.

  “I called them when I started down that screwed-up road. I wanted to be able to find you without scouring the entire lake area. They said they’d meet me here.” He turned to face her. “Now talk to me. Slowly and clearly. Who’s dead?”

  Her knees felt as if they wouldn’t hold her. She leaned back against the fender of the car. “Chavez. And Smith. He’s in the car. I thought he was the one following me. He said no one but him had followed me from the ranch, but there must have been—”

  “Shh, just a minute.” He went around the car, took out a handkerchief, then carefully opened the driver’s door and looked inside. “Christ.” He slammed the door and turned back to her. “And Chavez?”

  “In the woods. Behind some boulders. My fault. I sent him out there alone.”

  “Show me.”

  “I don’t know if I can find it.” She rubbed her temple. “But Monty can.” Poor Monty, he would hate going back to Chavez’s body. She had promised him life and brought him only more death. “If it’s safe for him. I’m not going to have some crazy loon shooting at my dog.”

  “He’s not crazy. And when he sees all those troopers, he’ll leave as quickly as he can.”

  “How do you know? You think it’s Rudzak, don’t you?”

  “Don’t you?”

  She didn’t know what she thought. She was finding it difficult to think at all. But evidently the question didn’t need answering, because Logan was walking away from her toward the patrol cars that had just pulled into the parking lot.

  Monty stopped ten yards from the boulders and wouldn’t go nearer. She didn’t force him. She had no desire to see that bloodstained knife again.