A poor, frightened child was wandering alone in the wilderness, probably crying, freezing and hungry. That was all that mattered.
She looked to Graydon. “Okay. Show me exactly where you found the glove. We’ll start there.”
“It was over by the rest rooms, on a path that leads into the forest.” He pointed. “That way.”
“And you’re sure she left of her own accord?”
“Positive. Several people saw her go.”
“Okay.” Taking the glove, Stacy held it for Lewis to smell, then guided him in the direction Graydon had indicated. It didn’t take him long to strike a trail, put his nose to the ground and start into the woods at a fast pace.
“Good boy, Lewis. Go on! Find her!” Adrenaline surged through Stacy, sharpening her already keen senses. Praise God, the trail was still warm so the chances of finding the child were very good, especially with a competent tracking dog like Lewis on the job.
He was the calm, sensible one of the pair, the one whose head was always clear, whose canine judgment she trusted implicitly. Clark, on the other hand, was a clown in a dog suit. It was hard to believe they were half brothers.
Which reminded her… Glancing over her shoulder, Stacy caught a glimpse of Graydon and the younger dog. They were lagging behind while Clark sniffed the base of an interesting tree. That figured. His faculties might be as good as Lewis’s but his instincts pertaining to a search were sorely lacking. Until he learned to prioritize, he was next to useless as a rescue dog, no matter how well he could find hidden items in the course of his training.
And speaking of useless, she added, there was also the matter of Graydon Payne. She should never have assigned Clark to him. It would probably take her weeks to undo the damage he was doing to the poor dog’s training.
She called back. “This way! Make him follow us.”
“How do you expect me to do that?” Graydon yelled. “This dog has a mind of his own.”
“Yours is supposed to be stronger,” she countered. “Show him who’s boss.”
“He is, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Whistling, Stacy got the retriever’s attention and he headed for her at a dead run, dragging the surprised man along behind him in a stumbling, sliding charge.
By the time Graydon and Clark arrived at the spot where Stacy had stood, she and Lewis were already underway again.
“You could wait for us,” he shouted.
“Not when there’s a child who needs me,” she called back over her shoulder.
He jogged to catch up, his smooth-soled shoes slipping on the pine needle carpet as Clark pulled him along. Short of breath, he managed to gasp, “You really take this stuff seriously, don’t you?”
Stacy’s jaw clenched. She was used to having people question her skills, especially since she was a fairly small woman, but coming from Graydon Payne the remark sounded even more negative than usual.
“Search and rescue is my life,” she said flatly. “And I’m very good at my job.”
When he answered, “I believe you,” sounding totally truthful, she was temporarily speechless.
“If this had happened a month ago, before all the trees leafed out, we’d have a better chance of spotting her.” Stacy paused to catch her breath and check her topographical map. The sloping, densely forested and rocky terrain had slowed Lewis’s progress considerably and he seemed to have temporarily lost the child’s trail.
Graydon was breathing hard, too. “We’ll still be able to find Missy, won’t we?”
“I hope so. It’s not as cold today as it has been. That gives us a bigger window of opportunity.”
“You don’t sound terribly concerned.”
“Don’t I? Sorry.” She took a drink of water from her canteen. “The truth is, I care very much. I also know that an emotional approach to a case like this often leads to critical mistakes. That’s the last thing we want. If Lewis doesn’t find her soon, I’ll call in other handlers and add more dogs to the search party.”
“Good.” Graydon eyed the canteen, held out his hand. “I could use a swallow of that.”
“Where’s yours? I told you to get survival gear before we left camp.” For the first time, she noticed he wasn’t carrying a backpack.
“You gave me so little time I didn’t have a chance to do more than grab this coat out of somebody’s truck,” he alibied, patting the front pockets of the bright-orange hunting jacket. “I’ve got a candy bar in here but that’s about all.”
“Terrific. I knew I shouldn’t have let you come along.”
Bestowing a slight, lopsided smile on his companion and trying to look suitably contrite, Graydon held out the candy bar. “Trade you half of this for a drink of water?”
“I have my own food. Thanks, anyway.”
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“Nope.”
His smile grew. “You have changed.”
Stacy looked up at him and nodded. “Mister, you have no idea.”
Chapter Two
Graydon slipped the candy back into his pocket. “Please?”
“Is this your idea of begging? Sheesh!”
“I’m not used to it. That’s the best I can do. Come on. Be a sport and give me a drink.” He reached toward the canteen, freezing in midmotion when Lewis growled. “Oh-oh. Maybe I should have offered the candy to the dog.”
“Don’t do it. Chocolate can be toxic to dogs.” Stacy couldn’t help smiling as she explained, “Lewis is my official protector. When you got too close, he let you know how things stood, but I don’t think he’d go so far as to actually bite you.”
“How comforting.”
Relenting, she held out the canteen. “Here. Just don’t drink too much. We need to save some for Melissa when we find her.”
Raising one dark brow, Graydon kept an eye on the defensive animal at her feet, took a swallow and handed back the canteen. “Do you think we’re close?”
“I can’t be sure. Lewis was acting confused when I stopped. He’s either lost the trail or it’s become complicated because the child doubled back.”
Graydon cocked his head toward the far end of the taut leash he was still holding. The younger dog was busy sniffing dirt, sprigs of grass and nearby insects. “This one acted kind of funny by that dead tree at the bottom of the hill. Do you think he might have caught a whiff of Missy’s trail?”
“Clark?”
