Dannette couldn’t help but smile.
“Brief me when I get there.”
“And I want to hear all about Hank Billings.” As if she were sitting beside Sarah, Dannette could see her redden, her blush a sharp contrast to her blonde hair, which was probably tied back in a ponytail. Maybe she wore a baseball cap, for sure little makeup, and probably a blue NYU sweatshirt and jeans. She’d have her jaw clenched and be staring at the road as if she hadn’t heard Dannette’s comment.
Dannette laughed. “Listen, I already talked to Andee. I know you saw him … or rather he saw you. All I’m saying is, I want details from your perspective.”
“There isn’t anything from my perspective. He was there. He hung out with Conner and Micah.”
“He gave you flowers? and a CD?”
Sarah groaned. “What didn’t Andee tell you?”
“She didn’t tell me if you smiled when you got them. If you think he’s at all a remote possibility. She didn’t tell me if you like him back.”
“I don’t. He’s … infuriating.”
Okay, that description hit a little too close to home. Will Masterson was infuriating. He knew how to tangle a girl’s mind and make her wish she had turned around and run for the hills. The way he hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and stood there roping her thoughts, screaming arrogance with his cowboy swagger and lazy smile, made her wish she’d given him another good wallop with her flashlight. Hank Billings, however, was … sweet. With a slow smile and a Texas drawl and tease in his voice. Sarah just didn’t have eyes to see it.
Or maybe she did. Which attested to the way she had, in fact, run.
“Okay,” Dannette said, “I’ll drop it. But I’m looking for details tonight over a medium pepperoni pizza with black olives.”
She heard the smile in Sarah’s voice. “How far out of town is the rest area?”
“About thirty miles.”
“I’ll be there within the hour. Wait for me.”
Dannette clicked off and shot a look toward heaven, feeling for the first time in a long while the gaze of the Almighty upon her.
“Yeah, Jeff, I’m going in after her.” Will held the telephone to his ear while he threw his night-vision goggles, a sleeping bag, a couple of MREs he had stored in the back of his truck, his Beretta, a knife, a rope, a tarp, a compass and flashlight, a canteen, and two pairs of extra socks into his rucksack. He was already dressed for stealth—black ski hat, BDUs, black sweater, and hiking boots. He’d gone without the camouflage paint for now but tucked the compact into one of his many pockets.
He had no doubt that right now Hayata was combing the woods for their little lost rabbit.
“How about search and rescue? Are they in on this?” Jeff asked, his voice grim.
“If you mean, am I teaming with them, the answer is no.” Or maybe no wasn’t strong enough. How about, not in a billion years, not if they strapped him to a piece of C-4, not if they stuck toothpicks under his fingernails and tied his tongue to a hornet’s nest. N-O, no. He wasn’t going to trail along in Dannette’s shadow. Aside from the obvious fact that she’d probably shoot him on sight, with this getup he was bound to obliterate his cover.
And wouldn’t that be fun? He, disclosing his true identity; she, overjoyed to discover that he’d lied to her … again. She’d probably have to wrestle her dog for who got to tear him limb from limb.
“I’ve heard extraordinary things about K-9s. If you follow her—”
“I’m not exactly an amateur here.”
Jeff stayed silent.
Will rubbed his forehead, staring at the man in the rearview mirror, and noticed the bruise on his temple. He looked like the terrorists he was hoping to thwart. If Dannette caught sight of him, he wouldn’t have to endure her disgust—she’d run for the border.
“I’m sorry. It’s just … I don’t need her. I’ll find the girl. Trust me.”
Jeff ’s voice was sober. “We have to trust you. We have no choice. There is an agent on his way to help you look, so don’t forget to check in. But find her—and soon. Before they figure out that she’s deliberately gone AWOL and give our man Nazar an early morning bullet to the head along with his goat milk and plov.”
Will wasn’t sure if that was a vote of confidence or not, but he nodded and clicked off. He tucked the phone into his pants pocket and shouldered the pack before pulling onto the road.
He had no intention of running into SAR queen Dannette Lundeen. And if he did, maybe he’d run for the border.
He parked on a dirt road, a quarter mile from the rest area. The late-afternoon sun ran fingers of light through the trees, dappling the shadowed ground with pools of fire as he tromped through the woods toward the area where he’d seen Dannette tag the scent. He noticed her truck in the parking lot. A Jeep Cherokee was parked beside it.
So Dannette had returned with reinforcements. He felt his pulse jump and wasn’t at all pleased by his reaction. Okay, so he could admit she had sparked his admiration. And his curiosity, with her jaded comments about newspapermen.
But he had a mission to accomplish. One that, if successfully completed, would ensure him a quick and painless exit from her horizon.
He hiked into the forest, looking for broken limbs, crushed grass, and quickly found where Dannette and her dog had entered. In fact, as he wound deeper into the forest, it was easy to follow the footprints. The dog’s path seemed erratic, straying from the deer trails, the clear brush, and diving through tangled forest where it seemed illogical for a human to pass.
Unless that human was trying to hide.
The sun continued to disappear, and twilight hued the forest a dingy gray. He heard voices and the cracking of underbrush and slowed his pace. It wasn’t like he’d find much at night, but after Dannette gave up and returned to a hot dinner and a warm bed, he’d pick up the trail. He hoped to find Amina by morning.
He tracked the depressed soil and broken forest to a creek bed. It seemed a spring run, and from the way the water had been despoiled, he knew the group had crossed not long ago.
He took a drink of water from his canteen, wiped his mouth, replaced the cap. He should hang back and make sure Missy didn’t pick up his scent. No, he should do better than that. A dog could smell detergent and fabric softener a mile away. He crouched by the river, picked up mud, smeared it over his face, his clothes. Yum, the fresh scent of worms and decaying loam.
He waited, his heartbeat ticking out time, until he heard only the rustle of wind against blossoms. Then he crossed the river and prayed that the wind didn’t change.
“What’s her name?” Sarah walked behind Dannette, who had her eyes on her dog, analyzing her behavior. Missy still had her snout in the air, and every once in a while would barrel ahead, confident of her course. Then she’d double back in confusion, circle, and rework the area.
It didn’t help that the wind seemed to change its mind, carrying with it a thousand different scents. They’d already walked half a mile, and again Dannette thanked the Lord for His opportune provision. Sarah had talked Dannette into packing her rig with the essentials for an overnight bivouac—a single tent, her sleeping bag, food, and water—just in case they had to pitch camp. And now, with her dog excited and on the trail, Dannette didn’t want to surrender to the night. She had a wide-beam Maglite and an abundance of batteries. Add that to the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and she felt she could hike all night.
The girl was out here and, judging by Missy’s movements, was on the run. A normal victim would stay to obvious paths or head toward the sound of a highway. This one ran into bramble and occasionally depressed the ground behind large felled trees as if hiding. Who was she afraid of, and why?
“I don’t know her name,” she answered Sarah. “An elderly couple reported her missing, and they gave only a cursory description.”
Dannette had been pretty accurate about her friend’s attire. Sarah had tied up her long, straight, blonde hair with a rubber band, and it s
tuck out of her baseball cap. She wore no makeup and looked like an ad for L.L. Bean in her faded jeans, hiking boots, and Gore-Tex jacket under a lime green down vest.
“So, you really don’t know if she’s even out here?” Sarah, the practical one in their group—even more so than Dannette—had an NYC accent that made her sound sardonic even when she was only asking a question. Dannette knew her well enough not to bristle.
“It’s worse than that, Sarah. Someone called in and reported her found.”
Dannette heard Sarah stop behind her. “What?”
Dannette turned and saw Sarah frown. “Yes,” Dannette said. “But the couple also said the girl seemed scared. As if she was in trouble. And in my gut I can feel it. She’s out here.”
Sarah stared at her, and Dannette knew she was rehashing all the times they’d worked together when Dannette had gone on instinct rather than cold facts. Much of SAR work was accurate guesstimate. The other half was the God factor. Dannette couldn’t help but feel she had a pretty good amount of both.
Well, most of the time. She wasn’t going to think about the times she’d been wrong.
“Okay, I’m in this with you to the bitter end.” Sarah smiled. “What better way to hang out with my best friend than by traipsing through the woods?”
Dannette grinned. “I wish Andee were here.”
Sarah nodded. “She misses all the fun.”
Missy bounded through the woods. In the darkening twilight, she looked more shepherd than retriever, the dark markings on her haunches and chest turning her wolf-like. In the shadows, she could raise the hairs on the back of a burglar’s neck. Sadly, that was about all she’d do, even if said bad guy had bathed in A.1. steak sauce.
Missy barked twice.
“Good girl!” Dannette said. “Refind!”
Missy had trained long and hard to find her victim, return to Dannette, and lead her to the find. Now the dog turned and ran out ahead, stopping now and again to confirm Dannette’s trail. Dannette’s pulse thundered in her ears as she parted the forest, hoping that they might all end the night with a sauna in the motel’s exercise room.
Missy stopped suddenly, standing over a bulge in the ground. Dannette’s heart lurched as she squinted to make out the form. Please, Lord, no.
She edged forward. Relief swilled through her when she recognized the heap as a ratty blanket. Dannette knelt, put on a rubber glove, and picked up the blanket as Missy sat, her eyes bright. “Good girl,” Dannette said and reached into her bag for Missy’s tennis ball. She threw it a few feet away. Missy ran to retrieve it while Dannette and Sarah stared at the blanket. It had obviously seen better days, but it didn’t look like it had endured a few rainstorms.
“It’s been recently dropped,” Sarah concluded.
“Yeah, that’s my take also.”
Missy returned with the ball. Sarah took it from her mouth, tossed it back down the trail from where they’d come.
“Well, what do you want to do? Pitch camp, head back, or keep looking?”
Dannette stood up, stared at the forest. It seemed to darken and close in on them with each passing step. And she couldn’t ignore the disappointment that hung in her chest. She’d hoped—seriously hoped—to find the girl before dinner.
In fact, that hope had been so alive, it kept her from feeling the fatigue that now weighted her legs, her shoulders. “I don’t know—”
Missy barked. Short, alarmed. As if in warning or … fear?
Sarah glanced at Dannette, then raced down the trail. Dannette ran behind her, her heart blocking her wind supply. It wasn’t unheard of for a dog to attract the attention of a wolf or even a bear. They had bears in these parts, right? grizzlies?
“Missy!” Dannette picked up her pace, hearing Missy’s growls, and caught up to Sarah.
Sarah skidded to a stop, her arm out, and thwacked Dannette neatly across the throat.
“What?” Dannette choked out. She spied Missy up ahead, and a streak of fear ran through her. Missy’s nape hair stood on end, and she had her legs planted, her lips drawn back and showing incisors.
She hadn’t seen Missy this angry since she’d gone face-to-face with a skunk on a search in Oklahoma. “Whoa, Missy,” Dannette soothed as she crept toward her dog.
Sarah grabbed her arm.
Dannette shot her a look, took in Sarah’s whitened expression, and followed her gaze.
A man stood on the side of the trail, slightly concealed in the trees. Dressed in black from head to toe, with mud smearing his face, he held up his hands as if in surrender.
Only he held a knife in one of those surrendering hands. One that could probably carve out the heart of Dannette’s dog. Or hers.
“Um … we don’t mean you any harm, mister.” She kept her voice soft as she curled her hand under Missy’s collar. “Please don’t hurt us. We’re just out here looking for someone.”
He stared at his knife, then lowered it. “I’m sorry …”
Dannette felt her breath gust out, fast and hard, as if she’d been punched in the chest.
No, it couldn’t be.
“I’m looking for the same thing you are,” he said as he sheathed his knife.
Beneath her hand, Missy relaxed, even began to wag her tail.
Traitor.
“Any luck, Dani?” he asked with that Western drawl that had the power to sizzle the nerve endings under her skin and drive her to fury.
Was she seeing things, or had Will Masterson gone from nosy, annoying reporter to die-hard stalker?
Chapter 8
“WERE YOU PLANNING on using that thing?” Dannette’s voice held only a touch of fear. The rest was 100 percent pulsating anger. “Because I don’t appreciate your threatening my dog with it.”
“Missy, shh, it’s just me,” Will said, holding out his hand to the dog.”
Dannette made a sound of disgust but put a hand on Missy’s head. “C’mere, Miss. It’s just Mr. Can’t-Understand-No.”
Missy sat, and her tail swishing in the leaves told Will that perhaps she had a better opinion of him than her mistress did. Will felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t meant to scare the animal, but when he heard something rushing through the forest toward him, his reflexes kicked in and he’d palmed the knife and headed for the brush.
Of course, Missy had to follow him. He felt sick when Dannette appeared before he could silence the dog—nicely, of course—and hide.
She glared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Like I said, looking for the same thing you are. A teenage girl. Lost, maybe hiding.”
Dannette narrowed her eyes. She glanced back at a tall blonde, who had an equally angry death-ray look zeroed in on him.
“How did you know she was hiding?” Dannette asked, wariness in her tone.
He opened his mouth, trying to dredge up words.
“Forget it. Really, I don’t want to know.” Dannette shook her head. “You are the most tenacious reporter I’ve ever met. And that’s putting it as politely as I can. Don’t even try to find a decent explanation for your getup. I can spot a stalker when I see one.” She grabbed her dog’s collar, tugged her gently to her side. “Get lost, Masterson, or next time I’ll tell Missy to fetch, as in your nose.”
He made a face, conjuring up that visual.
Dannette and her friend turned and headed up the trail. He heard the woman ask Dannette, “Who is he?”
“I’m a reporter,” he answered, amazed that he was still sticking to that story. Someone who was trained in stealth should obey Dannette’s words and turn around—at least far enough back so his scent would blend in with the forest. Then he’d reacquire Amina’s trail.
Only following Dannette’s and Missy’s footsteps the last hour had confirmed a few basics—namely, he’d find Amina faster on Dannette’s tail than sniffing out his own lead. And with darkness closing in and Hayata on their own determined manhunt, Dannette and her friend might need a little protection. Especially if Hayata decided on
commandeering the K-9 team for their own personal SAR use.
That last thought made him speed up the trail behind her. “I’m also a guy who wants to help.”
Dannette whirled, and if he wasn’t already wearing mud, the look she gave him would make him feel like pond scum. “We don’t need your help. We’re just fine.”
Her friend wore a frown. “Dannette, maybe he can help us.” She shot Will a look. “If he takes a bath somewhere and dosn’t stand too close.” She wrinkled her nose, waved a hand over her face. “You’ve got the sneaky thing down to a science.”
“Obviously not, or Missy wouldn’t have found me.” Will touched Missy’s head. “You’re too smart; you know that?”
Dannette moved between him and her dog. “What is it with you? Do you not understand the meaning of the word no? I don’t want your help.” She held up a finger to stop her friend’s protest. “We’ve been down this road. This girl’s trail is erratic, so my guess is you’re right on the idea she might be in trouble. I do think she’s hiding. If you do the math, you can probably guess that any news articles about her aren’t going to make her life better. In fact, you’re liable to decimate it. So turn your smelly self around and head south, Cowboy, before I unleash Missy on you.”
Will crouched before the dog, who was pushing her snout around Dannette’s hand, looking for his affection. “Missy loves me.” He rubbed her jowls. “And what if I promise not to write a word?”
Dannette frowned at him as he looked up. “I’m not sure you’re physically able to make that kind of promise.”
More able than she realized. Writing wasn’t his forte, and in fact, he’d sent more than one article off to HQ for them to hone and edit before turning it into the paper. He grinned. “No articles. Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Do you even know how to survive in the woods? The last thing Sarah and I need is dead-weight. You gotta keep up.”
He stood. “Yeah. I’ve been on a couple of camping trips. I’ll be all right.”
Escape to Morning Page 9
