Читать книгу Tracking Justice - Shirlee McCoy - Страница 13

THREE

Eva didn’t plan to give up. She was bound and determined to help find her son.

That much was obvious.

It was also obvious that having her wandering around in the Lost Woods could only lead to trouble. Dozens of hikers had been lost there over the years. Some had been recovered. Many hadn’t.

Austin had been on plenty of search-and-rescue missions in the thousand-acre wilderness. He knew the area well, and even he got turned around on occasion.

“You need to go back to base camp,” he barked over his shoulder, Justice tugging at the lead, anxious to be given his head.

Eva didn’t reply.

Not a word.

Not even a hint that she’d heard.

He pulled Justice to a stop, aggravated, annoyed and frustrated.

“I’m searching for your son, Eva. You’re slowing me down.”

“I have his coat. It’s cold tonight. He’s going to need it.” She held out a thick blue coat, her arm shaking, her voice steady.

“Thanks.” He took it, tucked it into his backpack, not bothering to explain that he had plenty of blankets and knew how to warm someone with hypothermia.

“Do you think he’s okay? It’s freezing out here, and he’s just a little guy.”

“We’re in the forties. That’s well above freezing.”

“You know what I mean, Detective.”

“Austin.” He urged Justice to seek again, not willing to stop for a conversation. Not wanting to spend any more time trying to assuage Eva’s worry. She needed to go back and wait. It was as simple as that.

Unfortunately, forcing the issue and dragging her back would waste time they didn’t have.

Forty-three degrees was cold. Especially for a kid who wasn’t dressed for the weather.

“If he’s still with his kidnapper, do you think that—”

“Eva, I don’t have time for a question-and-answer game, okay? If you want to have that, then go back to the head of the trail. I’m sure Slade is there. He can answer every question you want to ask.”

“I can’t go back. Not when Brady is out here somewhere.”

“You’ll be helping him more if you go back. Do you understand that you’re slowing me down?”

“Go as fast as you want. I can keep up.”

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes.”

“That could be hours. You know that, right?”

She didn’t respond, and he glanced over his shoulder, irritated by her presence. She was a wrench in the works, a roadblock getting in the way of the smooth teamwork that he and Justice usually achieved without effort. “This is your son’s life that we’re talking about, Eva.”

“I know,” she said simply. No dramatics. No tears.

“Then you’ll understand why it’s better for me and Justice to do this alone.”

“Let me ask you something, Austin. Do you have any idea how it feels to wake up in the middle of the night and realize that your child is missing?

“No,” he responded honestly.

“Then you can’t understand why I need to be here.”

“You’re wrong. I can understand. But finding the missing is what Justice and I are trained to do. We put everything we have into it every time. You can trust us with your son’s life.”

“I don’t trust anyone. Especially not when it comes to Brady.”

“This time, you don’t have a choice.”

“Sure I do. I trusted the police to find my parents’ murderer. That hasn’t happened. I trusted Brady’s father to keep his promises. Look where that got me.” She laughed, the sound achingly sad. “Now, I trust God and myself. That’s it.”

“I’m not anyone you’ve dealt with before, Eva. Maybe you should keep that in mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When I’m on search and rescue, every person I’m looking for is my family. I don’t leave family behind. Not ever. As long as there’s a chance of recovering Brady, I’ll be out here searching for him.”

“Who decides when there isn’t a chance?” she asked quietly.

“Time.” He shoved through thick foliage, holding back branches so they didn’t slap her in the face.

“How much time?” Eva persisted.

“I don’t know. Every situation is different.”

“I can’t go home without him.” Her voice quivered, and Austin remembered the softness in her eyes when she’d held her son’s photograph. The lone tear that had slid down her cheek. She was tough, but she was also a mother whose child was missing.

“Then let’s both pray that you don’t have to,” he said, because he wouldn’t promise that he’d find Brady. No matter how much he wanted to. He’d gone down that path before. It had ended in tragedy and heartache.

For a moment, Eva was silent.

Maybe she was waiting for the vows that Austin wouldn’t make, hoping that he’d reassure her, tell her that finding Brady was a certainty.

“Thanks,” she finally said. Nothing else. No begging or pleading for a guarantee.

“For what?”

“For not feeding me a bunch of lies about how certain you are that you’ll find my son.”

“You deserve the truth, and the truth is, I can’t promise a good outcome, but I’m going to do everything that I can to make sure we have one. Come on. Let’s pick up the pace.”

He loosened his hold on the leash, allowing Justice more slack. The bloodhound leaped forward, his paws scrambling in the thick layer of fallen leaves and pine needles. They’d searched this area before, and Justice followed the scent trail easily, baying once and then taking off.

Austin ran behind him, his feet pounding on packed earth and slippery leaves. No thought of Eva and whether or not she could keep up, just focusing on the feel of the lead in his hand, the tug of Justice’s muscular body, the tension that surrounded both of them.

Justice stopped at a small creek, sniffing the ground and moving back and forth across the creek bed. He stopped at a small flag, his tail wagging slightly as he acknowledged the area that they’d searched so intently, the prints that Austin had cast and photographed.

“Seek,” Austin urged, and Justice bent his nose to the ground again, his ears dragging along the wet creek bank.

Nothing.

Another ten minutes. Fifteen.

He pulled Justice up with a quick command, bent to study a small footprint pressed into the earth. Five toes. A little heel.

A little boy walking with his kidnapper or running from him?

Eva crouched beside him, her pants dragging in the mud, her sneakers caked with it. “His feet must be so cold.”

“Kids are pretty hardy.” He tried not to think about the children who hadn’t been. The lifeless bodies he’d found on riverbanks and in deep forests. Tried not to remember little Anna Lynn. Missing for four days before Austin had finally been able to bring her back to her parents. She’d been the daughter of one of his closest friends.

The search hadn’t ended the way he’d wanted it to.

Never again.

That’s what he’d told himself. No more emotional involvement. No more allowing himself to be so personally invested. But how could he not be when a little kid was lost, scared and alone?

He shoved the thoughts away and stood. “He headed downhill from here. We picked up the trail at a creek there. Come on.”

He led the way down the steep hill, Justice panting behind him. He gave the bloodhound a minute to lap water from the cool creek, then pulled the shirt from his pack again.

“Seek!” he commanded.

Justice raised his head, sniffing the air.

“Seek!” Austin encouraged, and Justice ran to the edge of the creek, snuffled at the ground.

Nothing.

“Do you—”

“How about we just let him work?” Austin cut Eva off. He needed to focus. Needed to keep moving. Time was ticking by. Brady was still missing. As much as Austin had tried to play it cool with Eva, he knew how quickly a child could become hypothermic. Especially a wet child. Brady had walked through two creeks and there was a hint of moisture in the cold air. The clouds might open at any moment, pouring down rain or ice.

Please, Lord, help us find him before then.

He let Justice work the area around the creek for fifteen minutes, then led him from the water, Eva pressing in so close that he could hear her soft breath, feel the warmth of her body through layers of cloth. She had a presence about her, and even in silence, she was difficult to ignore.

In the distance a dog barked, and Justice cocked his head to the side, then bent it to the ground again. Still nothing.

Brady and his captor might have come this way a couple of hours ago, the scent trail diluted by time and forest life, but giving up wasn’t an option. Not now. Not an hour from now. Until Brady was home, Austin would keep searching.

Slow. That’s the way they were moving, circling one area after another as Justice nosed the ground. Eva didn’t say another word. No questions. No idle chatter. She just followed along, stayed out of the way, and let Austin and his bloodhound do their job. She wanted to run, though. Race past them both screaming Brady’s name. Hoping he would answer.

Dim light filtered through the tree canopy, the first rays of the rising sun breaking through the forest’s gloom. The area felt empty, Justice’s soft huffs seeming to fade into the expanse of wilderness that surrounded them. They moved up a steep ridge, crisscrossing the leaf-strewn ground as Justice searched for the trail. He paused, nose to the air, body taut. One quick bark and he strained against the leash, his powerful body plowing through thick foliage.

“Do you think he’s found Brady?” Eva panted as she shoved through a tangle of tree branches. Her hair snagged on a twig, and she yanked away, her eyes tearing from pain, her pulse humming with hope and fear.

“He’s found the scent again. How far we’ll be able to track it is hard to say.” Austin’s answer was brief, his breathing unlabored. He didn’t even look winded, his long legs eating up the ground as he followed Justice.

“I can’t believe that Brady walked this far.”

And she didn’t want to picture all the ways that he might have gotten there if he hadn’t walked. Carried? Dragged?

“I’ve tracked kids that have walked farther.” Another brief answer. Fine. If Austin still wanted silence, she’d give it to him.

She didn’t speak again as they crested the ridge and ran down the other side. Justice stopped at the bottom, and Eva’s heart stopped with him. If he lost the trail, would he find it again?

Justice barked, his body seeming to vibrate with energy as he strained against the leash. They were heading into hill country, the woods deepening, the feeling of being cut off from time and place growing. They ran along the edge of a steep ravine, following a game trail that wound its way through the forest. No sign of anyone or anything, but Eva was sure they were being watched. Unseen eyes staring out of the shadowy woods and tracking their movements.

A branch snapped to their right, and Austin stopped, pulling Justice up short and issuing a sharp command for the dog to cease. His dark hair gleamed in the early-morning sunlight, his hard face shadowed with the beginnings of a beard. If Eva had been alone in the woods and seen him, she’d have walked the other way.

He gestured her over, pressing his finger to his lips as she moved in close.

Another branch snapped and Eva tensed, sure that someone would step out of the woods.

Silence fell. Thick. Heavy. Expectant.

Austin pulled back his jacket, his hand falling to the gun belt at his waist, his icy gaze scanning the forest. Justice stood beside him, hackles raised, body stiff. What did he sense? A bear? A deer? A person?

Several minutes passed and Justice relaxed, settling onto his haunches, his floppy ears whipping as he shook his sturdy body.

Gone. Whatever had been in the trees, but Eva still felt the threat, still wondered what or who had been watching.

“Let’s go,” Austin said, issuing a command for Justice to seek. The dog jumped up, nose to the ground, energy pouring through his body. Seconds later he barked, straining against the leash as he led them up a steep incline.

They ran up another hill, plunged down it again. Wove their way through trees and up to a cliff that overlooked the forest, following a path that seemed disjointed and erratic. A trail laid by a frantic, scared little boy?

Dear God, she hoped so.

She wanted to crest the next rise, round the next tree, see Brady standing there waiting for her.

She tripped, slid a few feet forward on her hands and knees, the earth near the cliff’s edge crumbling and falling away. A thirty-foot drop, at least. Her heart jumped, and she scooted back.

“Careful.” Austin appeared at her side, tugged her upright, his hands on her waist. There. Gone. So quickly she should barely have felt them. She did, though, his touch burning deep, reminding her of things better forgotten. Her cheeks heated, but there wasn’t time to think about it or to care.

Justice scrambled up a steep hill, his paws churning up leaves and dirt. Austin followed easily, grabbing tree branches and fists full of foliage as he fought his way to the top. Eva slipped and slid behind them.

Austin grabbed her hand as she neared the top, tugging her onto a ridge that overlooked the forest. A mountain of foliage shot up to the right. To the left, the ground fell away. A hundred feet below the trees huddled close, their winter-bare branches revealing glimpses of the forest floor.

Not a safe place for a seven-year-old boy, and Eva’s heart jolted with panic.

“What if he fell?” she whispered, the words barely carrying past the lump in her throat.

“He didn’t. Justice is still locked on to his scent. Come on.” Austin let the dog pull ahead again, and they skimmed the edge of the cliff, the slippery leaves and loose dirt slowing their progress.

Eva glanced into the abyss to the left, her head swimming as she imagined Brady falling head over heels.

Please, God. Let him be okay.

A fat branch slapped her cheek, the stinging pain barely registering past the hollow thud of her fear. She felt sick with it, her stomach and chest tight, her breathing labored. Everything she loved was wrapped up in Brady.

Austin stopped short and she ran into his back, her feet slipping on thick leaves as she tried to catch her balance.

He snagged her arm, pulling her forward as he crouched near Justice. The dog whined excitedly, his deep bark breaking the morning stillness.

“Release,” Austin said, and Justice backed away, dropping down beneath a thick-trunked oak and panting heavily.

“Look at this.” Austin pointed to something half-hidden by leaves and dirt. At first Eva couldn’t make out what it was. White and gray and brown fuzz covered by forest debris. A splash of bright blue.

“Is it an animal?” she asked, leaning closer, the truth suddenly right there in front of her face. Blue plastic eyes, a shiny black nose, white fluffy face.

“A stuffed animal,” he responded.

“Snowflake! Brady must have brought it with him.” She reached for it, and he captured her hand, gently pulling it back.

“It’s evidence, Eva. We don’t want it contaminated.” He lifted the stuffed dog with a gloved hand, tucked it into a plastic bag he pulled from his pack.

“He was here! Brady was here!” She stood, whirling around, frantically searching for some other sign that her son was close.

“Yeah. And it looks like he was alone this time. Look.” Austin pointed to a small footprint in the dusty earth. Bare. Every toe clearly defined. Another was just a few inches away. No sign of boot prints like the ones at the creek.

That was good.

Right?

“He must be terrified.” She wanted to cry but couldn’t let the tears come.

“I’m going to radio in and get the other search teams to the area. We’ll do better consolidating our efforts. Drink this while I get people organized.” He handed her an energy drink, poured water into a small dish for Justice.

Maybe Eva should have opened her energy drink, drank it up as quickly as Justice lapped up his water. But she felt too sick, her head throbbing endlessly, her stomach churning. Worry beat a rapid pulse through her blood, and she wanted to sit down and close her eyes. Open them again and find herself back in bed, Brady safe in the room beside hers.

“We’re set.” Austin clipped his radio into place, frowned at Eva’s still-full bottle. “You’re not going to do Brady any good if you’re dehydrated and exhausted.”

He took the bottle from her hand, opened it and handed it back to her, his fingers warm and callused. There was something comforting about that. Something nice and a little too wonderful about the way it felt to look into his face, see his concern and his determination.

She swallowed a few large gulps of the energy drink. Took two more sips for good measure, and then recapped the lid.

“Happy?” she asked, feeling vulnerable beneath his steady scrutiny.

“I’d be happier if you let me call someone to escort you out of the woods, but since I don’t want to waste time arguing, I think it’s best if I just say yes.” He tucked Justice’s empty bowl into his pack, took the energy drink and did the same. “Seek!”

They were off again, and Eva had to swallow hard to keep the drink from coming back up. Her stomach heaved, but Justice was on the trail, lunging against his collar and leash, his orange vest bright in the watery dawn light.

He ran like the best think in the world lay at the end of the scent trail he was following, ran like he couldn’t wait to be united with the boy that he was seeking. Ran like it mattered, and Eva thought that if she ever gave in to Brady’s begging for a puppy, she’d get him a bloodhound. Maybe Austin could give them some tips on how to train a dog. Maybe...

She shoved the thought away.

Thinking ahead, planning for Brady’s return...that was one thing. Planning to include Austin in their lives after Brady was found, that was something she wouldn’t allow herself to do.

Sweat trickled down her face as they raced past trees and headed up a small hill. Sunlight speckled the ground with gold and warmed the winter chill, the world a blur of gold and green and brown, the only sound Justice’s frantic barks and Eva’s panting breath.

Something snapped behind her, the sound so loud and startling she turned, caught a glimpse of a dark figure deep in the woods. There. Gone. There again. Moving away from them, but somehow sinister in the forest stillness.

“You okay?” Austin asked, and she realized she’d stopped, was searching the trees.

“I saw someone.” She pointed to the area where the figure had disappeared.

“Probably search and rescue.”

“He wasn’t wearing an orange vest like yours, and he didn’t have a dog.”

An explosion ripped through the morning quiet. One short sharp report and then another.

A gun!

Austin shouted something, and she was falling, colors swirling around her as she landed hard on the thick pine carpet.