“Meg!”
Her head snapped up at the sound of her name to find Webb sprinting across the parking lot toward her.
“Looks like someone is happy to see you.” Lauren angled out of Webb’s way so he had a straight path to Meg. “I’m going to go check in with Craig. Rocco, come.”
Reaching her, Webb pulled Meg into his arms, lifting her right off her feet, her walking stick dropping from her hand to fall to the ground with a clatter. “Your shoulder . . .” she whispered.
“Is fine. My God, I’ve been frantic all night long, scared to death you ran into trouble out there.” He put her down and stepped back, taking in the cut over her eye, the streaks of blood down one side of her face, and the crusty neckline of her shirt. Gently cupping her cheeks in his hands, he angled her head down to examine her wound. “You did run into trouble out there. What happened?”
“We were shot at. Trying to avoid being gutted by an arrow, I dove off the path and rolled down a steep hill. Something slashed at me on the way. I think it was a tree branch. At the bottom of the hill, I got tossed into the Conasauga River, and then had to fight to keep from drowning while I shot the rapids without a boat. And before you ask, there’s no concussion. I didn’t hit my head. But the gash was a problem, because I got blood all over me and then that’s what I smelled like.”
“Predators.”
“Yes, the worst of which was a pack of hungry coyotes who were looking to defend their territory from an interloper.” She looked down affectionately at Hawk. “We managed to get away from them, but it got a little too close for comfort for a while there.”
“I’m beyond glad you were successful. The wound needs a really good cleaning, which is going to hurt like hell, and then I can close it for you.”
“Stitches or that awesome glue you used the last time?”
“Glue. It’s better for facial injuries and decreases the chance of scarring.” He frowned and turned her head slightly sideways. “You might scar, though. Maybe you’d prefer a trip to the ER and a plastic surgeon to do the job right.” He tipped her face up to him.
“You’ll do the job right. After all, you’re the one stuck staring at this face a lot of the time.”
“Any other injuries I can’t see? When you came down the path you looked a little unsteady. I could read the exhaustion, but is there more than that?”
“I’m generally banged up, but otherwise okay. I got lucky. When I went down that hill, I could have hit a tree or a rock and broken my head open or cracked my spine. I’m bruised, and I have some smaller contusions and blisters from hell, but the head wound is the worst of it. When we get back to the cabin you can help me clean up and do a full check. But by tomorrow I’m going to look like . . . what was it you called it? An Arizona sunset?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it. I feel like I’m bruised everywhere.” She closed her eyes and let herself sag against him. “I’m so tired. I didn’t dare let myself rest last night. I dozed off for a few seconds, but that was it.” She raised her head when running footsteps announced McCord’s arrival.
“Meg! You’re okay?” McCord rubbed a palm over her shoulder. “We were worried about you and Hawk. Hawk, buddy. How are you? High five!”
Hawk, who had been sitting beside Meg, lifted one paw and slapped it against McCord’s extended palm.
McCord ruffled his ears. “You’re filthy, my man, but you look good.” He straightened. “Did you tell her?”
“Not yet.” Webb’s response was almost a growl.
Meg stiffened and pushed away from Webb, but he kept ahold of her shoulders. “Tell me what?” Her gaze shot from Webb’s frown of displeasure to McCord’s anxious eyes.
“I was waiting to make sure she didn’t need medical attention first. And she does.”
Meg tried to pull out of Webb’s hands and toward McCord, but Webb held her fast. That in itself made her stomach dip. “What don’t I know?” she insisted, knowing practical Webb would never sugarcoat the situation.
“Lacey’s been hurt.”
Fear sluiced through her like ice water. “What? How badly?”
“Bad.”
In a flash, she was back in that dark alley in Richmond, Virginia, crouched in the pouring rain, her dead K-9 in her arms, his blood smeared all over her hands and uniform. The memory of that agony rolled over her like a wave, her breath catching and her vision going grainy. “Where is he? Brian!” She pulled one shoulder free, but Webb managed to grab her again.
He pulled her in closer and got right in front of her. “Meg, take a breath and listen to me.”
He waited until she met his eyes, and she knew he could see her terror for Lacey mixed into memories of Deuce’s death.
“They’re not here,” he continued. “When Brian carried Lacey out—”
A moan escaped her. Carrying a dog out meant the injuries were critical. And carrying a full-size German shepherd out of the deep wilderness would have been a challenge even for someone in Brian’s top condition. But he’d done it in an effort to save his partner’s life.
“Craig called in air rescue to take Brian and Lacey to the nearest emergency vet. It was going to take too long otherwise to get out of here by the mountain roads. Craig got in touch with a clinic in Chatsworth so they’ll be ready for them when they arrive. They’ve got surgical facilities and a couple of vets standing by. They know it’s a law enforcement canine coming in. Brian and Lacey should be arriving shortly and they’ll do everything they can.”
Meg’s knees threatened to buckle and only Webb’s support kept her upright. This horrifying news on top of the strain of simply surviving the previous eighteen hours nearly knocked her flat. Webb seemed to sense that and walked her backward, toward the edge of the parking lot, then lowered her down to sit on the trunk of a fallen tree at the boundary of the forest.
Across the parking lot, Craig and Lauren jogged toward them.
“What happened?” Meg whispered.
Webb crouched down in front of her so they were eye-to-eye and took her hands in his. “It was a cougar attack. They’re extremely rare in this area, but they’ve been spotted in Tennessee, so it was only a matter of time before they drifted south. They were on their way back after Lauren found you, when they crossed the cougar’s path. It went for Brian first, but then Lacey got in there and the real scrap started. She drove the cat away in the end, but she was critically injured. By the time Brian finally got her out, she’d lost a lot of blood. Meg, you need to be prepared that this might not end well. Brian’s going to need you.” His eyes dropped to where she normally wore the pendant, but it was absent as she didn’t wear it on searches for fear of losing the irreplaceable totem. “You’re the only one of us who really knows what he’s going through.”
“I need to go to him.” She looked at Craig, who ran up to stand behind Webb. “Craig, I need to go to Brian. He shouldn’t be there alone.”
“Agreed. Webb, can you and McCord take her?”
“Yes. Meg needs treatment, but I’ll see if I can beg some supplies from the clinic.”
“Otherwise she checks out?”
“So far, but I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Uncle Sam is paying for all this, so tell them to add her supplies to my bill,” Craig said. He gave Meg’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m glad to see you, but I’ll catch up with you later. We’re waiting for Scott and Theo to get back, and then the three of us and the dogs will be right behind you.”
“I’m driving.” McCord pulled out his phone and called up his map app. “Where are we going?” Craig gave him the address and McCord typed it in. “Got it. Let’s go.”
Webb pulled Meg to her feet. “There are dry clothes, shoes, and a couple of towels in the SUV. You can change as we go.”
She yanked her hands free and used nervous energy born of pure fear to sprint with the men and Hawk across the parking lot toward McCord’s SUV.
CHAPTER 24
Totem: An object or symbol bel
ieved to have special significance to a family, clan, or society.
Wednesday, April 17, 10:22 AM
Dalton Veterinary Services
Chatsworth, Georgia
McCord stopped the SUV right in front of the door of the clinic. “Go. We’ll bring Hawk.”
Meg gave him a sharp nod. “Hawk, stay.” Then she was through the door and running up the front walk.
After changing into dry clothes, she’d spent the entire trip trying not to back-seat drive as McCord skillfully managed the narrow, winding mountain roads. She wanted him to open it up to sixty on roads that could handle a maximum of twenty miles per hour, many so treacherous as to require convex mirrors around their hairpin curves. Once they had to stop short of a turn as an eighteen-wheeler maneuvered around the curve using both lanes of the two-lane highway. The driver had cut it so close, he’d been only a hairbreadth from brushing against the rock wall. Luckily, he’d made it through and they’d been able to continue on. McCord had pushed the speed as much as he could, but they all recognized that dying on the way there wouldn’t help Brian at all.
But now—finally—they were there.
She jerked open the door to find a cheerful, bright reception room with a young woman in scrubs sitting behind a tall desk. But Meg’s eyes were only for Brian, sitting by himself at the far end of the room, his head in his hands.
“Brian!”
His head snapped up, his gaze fixing on her, eyes full of pain she felt like a blow to the gut. She’d felt that pain herself and it had nearly killed her.
Yet sliding in behind the pain was relief at seeing her in one piece. “You’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” She dropped to her knees in front of Brian and gathered him in. For a moment he was limp and motionless, and then his arms clamped around her fiercely, almost too tight for her to draw breath as he pressed his face against her throat. He simply held on as tremors quaked through his body.
“She tried to protect me.” His voice was only the thread of a hoarse whisper. “The cougar came out of nowhere and went for me, got in a few swipes, and she jumped in between us. It went for her throat. She fought it off, got in a few bites of her own, and in the end drove it away.” His breath caught. “And then she collapsed. Her breathing . . . it was so . . . shallow.” And he broke.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Meg saw the door open and Webb, McCord, and Hawk enter. She thrust one hand out toward them, palm out and fingers spread—Stop!—and then turned her attention back to Brian as he shook in her arms. He was struggling to control himself, and she could feel his measured inhalations as he tried to keep himself from hyperventilating.
He pulled away and rubbed his hands over his face.
That’s when Meg saw what she’d missed in her rush to get to him—the torn and blood-soaked material over his upper right arm and right side. With a gasp, she pulled back to run her gaze over the rest of him. “You’re hurt.”
She tried to gently tug his right arm forward so she could see it better, but he pulled it from her grasp. “It’s not that bad.”
“It looks bad. You need to let Todd examine you.”
“Later.” He let out a shaky breath. “I need to pull it together. Can’t fall apart.”
Meg clamped both hands over his. “Listen to me, Brian. Nobody knows what you’re going through better than me. That’s your partner in there. I know you’re married to Ryan, but in many ways, Lacey is your other half. She’s your heart dog. Of course you’re terrified and upset. But you brought her in alive, and she’s full of grit and spirit. She’s going to fight to get back to you. And we’re going to hold on and wait for her.”
He nodded silently as his breathing steadied and his trembling slowed. He noticed Webb and McCord still standing by the door and he slumped, his head dropping as his face flushed. “They’re going to think I’m overreacting.”
“Never.” When Brian looked up sharply, she continued. “They know what these dogs are to us. What we are to them. They’re here to stand vigil with you. To support you. And Craig, Lauren, and Scott are incoming.” She pushed off the floor to take the chair next to him. “We’re all with you, every step of the way.”
Brian tipped his head sideways to rest against her shoulder. “Thanks,” he whispered.
Meg leaned her head against his and threaded her fingers through his, holding on tight. “Always.” She looked at the men and gave them a nod to come closer. “Hawk, come.”
Hawk trotted over, but instead of going to Meg, he went to Brian, sitting between his spread knees and resting his chin on Brian’s thigh.
Brian dropped his free hand to Hawk’s shoulder to stroke. “How do they know?”
“I don’t know, but they always do.”
Hawk didn’t move over the next hour, simply comforting with his presence. Webb got up, talked to the receptionist, flashed her his ID, and then went into the back rooms with her. He returned five minutes later with gloves, disinfectant, bandages, and a tube of Vetbond. He dealt with Meg first as Brian watched and held her hand, occasionally wincing as her grip became overtight while Webb cleaned her face and throat, and then sealed and bandaged the wound over her eye. Then Webb insisted on checking out Brian, working around Hawk, muttering over the wide spread of the claw tracks on his side and upper arm. Luckily both sets of scratches were relatively shallow and were easily cleaned and dressed. Then Webb retreated a few seats away to sit beside McCord, as if sensing that Meg and Brian needed a little space.
Shortly after, they were joined by Lauren, Scott, their dogs, and Craig. For a roomful of people, it was deathly quiet, with only rarely muted whispers. A few times Meg noticed McCord texting and figured he was keeping Cara up to speed with developments.
Surely news had to come soon. How long could the surgery take? That would depend on the wounds, of course. But, as Meg reminded Brian, the longer they sat with no word, the longer Lacey held on.
The outside door to the clinic opened and a slender blond man stepped in, pulling off a pair of sunglasses. Meg stared, blinked, stared again, and half rose out of her chair. “Ryan?”
Beside her, Brian jerked in surprise and inhaled sharply. Then he was out of his chair. His husband met him halfway across the room, pulling him into a tight hug, holding on to him, one hand cupped behind his head, the other splayed wide over Brian’s back, rocking him from side to side.
Meg collapsed into her chair and turned to stare at Webb and McCord. “How did he . . .” Her voice trailed off as she caught McCord’s eyes locked on the men, a satisfied smile curving his lips. “That’s who you’ve been texting.”
McCord nodded. “I knew Brian would need him, and I had Ryan’s number in my contacts from the Stevenson case. I called him from the trail parking lot as soon as I knew where they were taking Lacey because that impacted travel plans. Ryan dropped everything and ran for the airport. By the time he got there, I had a flight arranged for him. And then a car at Chattanooga.”
“That’s amazing. It didn’t occur to me to do that.”
“You’re too close to this. It hits too close to home for multiple reasons. I’m on the outside looking in and could be detached enough to help Ryan. I’ve been in contact with him via text since he landed. Then it was a forty-five-minute drive here.”
Meg stood, circled Webb to McCord, and bent to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re a good guy, McCord. Cara would be proud of you.”
“So she said when I told her.” He looked at the two men, one devastated, the other shoring him up. “No one outside of another handler is going to understand what he’s going through more than Ryan. And God forbid the worst happens, he’ll need both you and Ryan to get through it.”
“That’s not going to happen. I—” Meg shot upright as the door to the clinic opened and a young woman in scrubs stepped through. “Mr. Foster?”
Brian stepped away from Ryan and spun around. He couldn’t say anything; he just stood there bracing himself for the worst.
Meg mov
ed forward so Brian stood between herself and Ryan. “This is Mr. Foster,” she said. “How’s Lacey?”
“She came through the surgery well.”
Brian almost went to his knees. Only Ryan and Meg, each grabbing an arm, held him steady.
“She’s not out of the woods yet, but she’s young and strong. The next twenty-four hours are critical, but I’m extremely optimistic.”
“Can I see her?”
“Sure. She’s in recovery, but she’s starting to come out of the anesthetic and she’d be steadier in strange surroundings if you were with her. Come on back.”
Ryan looked at Meg, who stepped away and nodded to him. Hand in hand, the men disappeared into the back rooms.
Meg dropped into the chair beside Webb, tipped her head against the wall, and closed her eyes.
He leaned in and brushed a thumb over her cheek. “You’re exhausted. I should get you out of here.”
“No, not yet. Soon, but not yet. I need to know Brian will be okay. I mean, Ryan is here, but . . .”
“But you’ve lived through what he’s going through and worse. You understand it at a visceral level.”
“Yeah.” She turned her head sideways to find him close. “You don’t think this is too much hullabaloo over an animal?”
“These aren’t just animals. In many ways they’re the other half of you.” His brown eyes were deadly serious; there was no mistaking his sincerity.
She gave him a half smile. “And here I thought you were supposed to be my other half.”
“What you and I have is different from your love for Hawk. But that love is just as deep and just as important. You expect to lose Hawk someday; he has a life expectancy that’s only a fraction of yours. But it’s a different thing to have that life taken early. Worse, to have it taken tragically. That’s a wound you don’t easily recover from, as you know all too well.” He clasped her hand in both of his. “And I know this day has to have floated some terrible memories too close to the surface for you. So while you’re watching over Brian, I’m going to watch over you. When you’re satisfied you can leave him, I’m going to take you back to the cabin, check out any other injuries you might have, and put you to bed for some long overdue sleep. Later, you can tell me all about what happened yesterday on that mountain.”
Leave No Trace Page 23
