Desert Rescue (K-9 Search and Rescue)

by Lisa Phillips

  Martin. Tucker. Patrick.

  Focus.

  “Patrick.” She touched his shoulder with one hand, pushing at his weight, and pressed two fingers to his neck with the other. The man she loved. The one who had saved her life. “Rick...” Calling him that was so natural now, even if it was little more than a breathy moan. “Rick.”

  His weight was heavy on her, and she felt a steady pulse. Tucker barked. The wet feel of... Don’t think about that. A buzzing noise interrupted her thoughts. Patrick still hadn’t moved or even moaned. She turned his face to her and patted his cheek. “Wake up. Please wake up.”

  “Cops!” One of the gunmen beat feet away from them. Scurrying off to try to escape what was inevitable.

  “No, they’re army!” someone else shouted.

  Whoever it was, Jenny didn’t much care. Either way, they were the good guys and she wanted these bad guys to leave. Or at least not try to hurt any of them again.

  Tucker barked. He sounded agitated, and she realized she was learning his temperaments. Jennie looked at her brother, who had tried to kill her. Gun pointed, trigger pulled, actually fired a shot in her direction. She couldn’t believe it. So much so that it wasn’t just Patrick’s weight causing her to be breathless.

  Martin stared up at the sky, his jaw hard. His reckoning was coming. But not before he told them where Nate was. Still at Patrick’s house, or somewhere else?

  Jennie would get her son back. She would. God, keep my son safe until I get there.

  Patrick groaned. Jennie rolled him off her, onto the ground beside her. Tucker leaned forward on his four paws. After a second of tension, he barked twice. The action caused his front paws to lift off the ground as he announced his displeasure at Martin.

  “Tucker!”

  She didn’t want her brother to hurt him. What if Tucker got injured and Patrick wasn’t conscious enough to intervene?

  Patrick groaned again and she heard him suck in a long breath. The next sound from him was a moan.

  Jennie didn’t know if it would work, but she said, “Tucker, come!” using a loud, commanding voice like Patrick did.

  The dog glanced at her.

  “Come.”

  He started toward her.

  Jennie peeled off her sweater. When she turned back to Patrick, she tried not to react. Tried. A whimper escaped her lips. She balled up the fabric and pressed it hard against his shoulder, leaning on him with as much weight as she could.

  He moaned again, his eyes focused on her.

  “You were shot. Don’t move.” Jennie looked at the sky. A helicopter? Whether it was the army or the state police, she didn’t care. “Help is on the way. Just hang tight, okay?”

  Most of the gunmen had fled.

  She looked around for her brother and saw him climb the side of the truck. Patrick had done it much more easily. It took Martin a couple of attempts before he managed to haul himself to the open door so he could drop inside.

  Those moments Patrick had been beside the truck and she’d been by her brother and the other gunmen, even holding on to Tucker’s leash, had been some of the scariest of her life. Now her brother was behind the windshield. Trying to get the drugs? She glanced at the helicopter. The authorities were closing in.

  Soon there would be nowhere to go.

  She turned back to Patrick. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. Jennie wasn’t sure she believed him.

  “You need to be okay.” She held the sweater tight. Patrick lifted a hand and placed it over hers. She said, “You have to be here when I get Nate back.”

  “I...” He gasped a breath but didn’t finish, pain washing over his face.

  Her heart soared just at the idea that he still cared about her. There was no time for that to sink in, though. Not the full extent of what it would mean for them. For their son, and the future.

  She leaned down and touched her lips to his in a fast kiss. “We’ll talk later. When things are safe.”

  Her brother rooted around in the cab of the truck.

  His men had disappeared. In the distance three big Humvee-looking vehicles kicked up dust as they approached in formation. The helicopter was closer now, circling around them.

  Those men would swarm over this whole area. Martin would be locked down.

  She couldn’t let him be taken by the authorities without telling her where that man had taken Nate.

  She looked at Tucker. “Stay.” Then she clambered to her feet. She stumbled but managed to stay standing. What should she do? Martin had dropped the gun before he climbed into the truck. She swiped the weapon from the ground and realized it was Patrick’s. Jennie moved around to the windshield and planted her feet.

  She raised the weapon and pointed it at the glass. “Martin!”

  He looked up. A split second of fear crossed his face, and then he turned back to his search.

  “Tell me where Nate is!”

  He didn’t respond. She said it a couple more times, but got no response.

  Jennie redirected her aim to the bottom corner of the windshield, in front of the steering wheel. She squeezed the trigger and fired a shot.

  Jerk. Exhale. She fixed her stance and readied to fire again. She took a long breath and let it out slowly. Calm. That was what Nate needed right now.

  “Tell me!”

  Her brother shifted. From behind the windshield she’d just shattered, he turned to face her. His first shot slammed a baseball-size hole through the windshield.

  She yelped and jumped out of the way. He still had his gun.

  The second shot was closer. Jennie dove for the ground. She saw him climb out the door, and she lifted her arm. Empty hand. Jennie looked around for the weapon.

  As soon as she had it in her grasp and lifted it, he’d disappeared out of view. She ran to the truck and saw him beyond it, sprinting away at full speed, hauling a duffel bag over his shoulder.

  Tucker’s dog tags jingled.

  He passed her, racing after her brother.

  “Tucker!” Martin would surely shoot him. Right?

  The helicopter circled in front of her brother. She heard a yell, but didn’t know where it came from. As Jennie watched, the dog launched himself at her brother and took him to the ground.

  A gunshot rang out.

  “Tucker!”

  * * *

  Patrick gritted his teeth and rolled. He managed to get up and stumble toward Jennie as white spots floated across his vision. His teeth ached, he was clenching so hard.

  He nearly went down but snatched the gun from her. She gasped.

  Patrick moved to Martin and Tucker, giving his dog a quick pet.

  Martin groaned. His legs shifted, but he couldn’t get up with the weight of Tucker on his back. Patrick noticed a knot forming on Martin’s forehead.

  Patrick held out his hand to the dog. He had nothing to give Tucker, so he rubbed the sides of his face and put his own close. “Good boy.”

  His equilibrium shifted and Patrick nearly fell forward. Nausea rolled in his stomach and he had to admit his shoulder screamed fire right now. He pushed out a breath between his teeth and planted a knee.

  He waved a hand for Tucker to back up. “Down.”

  The dog moved off Martin. Patrick stuck a knee in Jennie’s brother’s back.

  A uniformed man approached. “Hands up!”

  Patrick lifted one hand. “New Mexico State Police.”

  “You’re Officer Sanders?”

  He nodded. “She’s with me.”

  Jennie flushed with relief. Even dirty and bedraggled, her expression full of fear and adrenaline, he thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

  Standing around them was a crowd of uniformed state police, interspersed with a lot of camo-dressed army guys. Some had MP bands on their arms. All had high-pow
ered rifles.

  “We’ll take that guy off your hands.” The soldier held a hand out, and Patrick clasped his forearm. The guy practically hauled him off his feet—a sergeant. Ready to take Martin into custody. Finally. Well, Patrick was the one who had found him.

  They weren’t going to take Martin away until he told them where Nate was.

  When he turned to see them cuff Martin and lift him up—a whole lot less gently—Patrick said, “Where is Nate?”

  The army guys glanced at him. Patrick kept his focus on the man who would’ve been his brother-in-law. He even might still be now, after Patrick and Jennie figured everything out. And got their son back.

  Patrick took a step. The movement sent pain through his torso. He was assuming there was no serious damage. He’d been shot in the shoulder and was pretty sure the bullet had gone all the way through—out the back. The best scenario. It wasn’t naïve to think like that—it was hope.

  He grunted. “Will that guy kill him?” Patrick needed to know.

  Jennie sniffed back tears.

  “He’s your nephew, Martin. You turned him over to that guy? You want me to bring you up on more kidnapping and accessory charges on top of all the trouble you’re already in?” He was personally involved in this case. Patrick wasn’t going to be the one to pursue this, given the army was involved, but he would make sure the full force of the law came down on Martin Wilson’s head.

  “I want a deal. Then I’ll tell you where he is.”

  Patrick got in his face. “No deal. You shot me, and you had your guy kidnap my son. Twice. Where is he?”

  He wasn’t going to threaten the man in front of this many people. That wouldn’t go down well. Patrick would find it hard to support his family if he were fired—or thrown in jail himself.

  But Martin knew what he implied.

  “Where is he?”

  Given the gunshot wound, Patrick couldn’t fight him. Martin was cuffed anyway.

  Maybe a few days ago he’d have wanted revenge. Before Patrick learned that trust in God was his best weapon.

  Make him tell me.

  It was an honest prayer, but maybe not theologically correct. Patrick needed all the help he could get right now.

  “Sanders!”

  He turned again and saw Eric running toward him. Behind Eric, Sheriff Johns walked a cuffed gunman toward their huddle. The sheriff had a wound on the side of his face, as though the guy had fought being cuffed and Johns had taken the man down. Eric had a smudge of dirt on the front of his shirt.

  Patrick swayed, light-headed all of a sudden. Jennie lifted his arm on his good side and stood under it, holding him up.

  Eric stopped in front of them.

  “We need to find Nate.”

  Patrick was glad she’d said it. He wasn’t sure he could put the words together right now.

  “Your man needs a hospital.” The army sergeant passed Martin off to one of his men and came over to Eric. He motioned to indicate Patrick and said, “You should take him in. We’ve got this covered, and the sheriff can round up Wilson’s men.”

  “We need to find my son.” Patrick forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Martin knows where he is.”

  “Martin says differently,” the sergeant said. “Told me he doesn’t know where his man took your boy.”

  “His nephew.” Tucker leaned against his leg, but Patrick would probably pass out if he touched his dog’s fur right now. That was the side where he’d been shot in his shoulder.

  The sergeant nodded. “I’ll keep working, but if he asks for a lawyer, there’s nothing I can do. He won’t get a deal. I’m sorry.” He looked apologetic, even as he shrugged it off. “He’s coming with me.”

  Eric waved a cell phone. “We found this on one of the gunmen. We can track every cell it communicated with in the last three days. Get all their GPS locations and figure out who isn’t here. Maybe we can find Nate that way.”

  “That will take too long.”

  “We have all these guys—” Johns shifted the man he held “—so maybe one of them will talk.”

  The cuffed gunman laughed. “What’s it worth? Cause I want a deal, too.”

  Patrick wanted to punch him. Not constructive, but it was how he felt.

  Jennie straightened her shoulders. “Tell us where he is.” She should have sounded distraught. Instead, she sounded strong...and full of grief. “Don’t you have people you care about?” she asked the gunman. “How would you feel if one of them was in danger?”

  The gunman’s lips quirked, and he huffed.

  “Can Tucker find him?”

  Patrick squeezed his eyes shut as he thought it over through all the pain in his shoulder. “We need something to get a scent from, and we can start from the last place he was seen.”

  Eric pulled out his keys. “I’ll drive.”

  Patrick opened his eyes and met his partner’s gaze.

  Eric said, “We’ll find him.”

  He nodded. Patrick had no intention of stopping until he found Nate. He would probably keel over on the way, but he wouldn’t back down.

  They started for the car. Eric ran ahead and drove over the desert they’d walked, back to pick them up. They had no idea where Nate was. None of the gunmen had talked, and Martin either didn’t know or refused to say. I don’t care. It wouldn’t stop them from finding him.

  Eric drove to the rental house and went inside with Jennie to get a shirt, or something Tucker could pick up a scent from. Patrick shifted in his seat to face Tucker, in the back of Eric’s SUV. “Hey, buddy.”

  Tucker sniffed Patrick’s face, then licked his cheek. Normally that wasn’t okay—because it was gross—but Patrick realized a tear had rolled down. Better that it was gone when Jennie came back.

  “You wanna find Nate?”

  The dog whined. Probably just a reaction to the tone of Patrick’s voice—a brokenness and fear he’d never heard from his handler before.

  Jennie brought a shirt back, and Eric drove them to Patrick’s old house. He couldn’t think about the past. This was about Nate, not his own feelings.

  Eric pulled up behind the house.

  Patrick had Tucker scent the shirt. “Is that Nate?” The dog took a big sniff, reacting in a way he never had before. Tucker knew who wasn’t there. “Are you ready, Tuck? Wanna go? Ready? Let’s go!” The dog bounced up and down, tugging on the leash. “Tucker, find!”

  The dog raced ahead of him. Patrick fought the pain and led the way, leading Jennie back to their son.

  On the most important search of all their lives.

  We’re coming, Nate.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Jennie was exhausted. Tucker was the only one who didn’t seem to be. The dog had energy for days. Patrick and his K-9 partner raced ahead. Eric came second, with Jennie behind him. She didn’t even know how Patrick was still functioning.

  He’d been shot. Her life with him had flashed before her eyes as she’d pressed her sweater into his wound.

  Now he was walking around?

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  She glanced over to find Eric watching her as they both trotted along, trying to keep up with Patrick. “Um...what?”

  Her brain wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders right now. She watched Patrick ahead of them. Love him?

  “I always have. Not much changed, even after he left town. As much as I wanted to hate him for leaving me alone, I never really did. And now I know what happened, and why, there’s no animosity there at all.”

  This was good. They were racing across the desert behind Patrick’s old house—actually heading in the direction of her house. The distraction of conversation helped her not think about how much her legs ached. She would collapse eventually. Hopefully not before they found Nate, because that would only slow down the search.


  Eric eyed her. “He’s a good man.”

  “I know that.” She huffed out the words, breathy now that they’d been running for nearly fifteen minutes. “Probably the best man I know.”

  Patrick was better than anyone and everyone she’d ever met—except Nate. Father and son were tied on that scale.

  God, help us find Nate.

  “Because he’s your son’s father?”

  She shot Eric a look. That’s what Patrick’s partner thought of her? Jennie only appreciated Patrick because of his biological connection to their son? If it was true, it was also completely shallow. She could separate the two.

  If she only acknowledged him because of the fact he’d fathered Nate, that meant she saw no additional value in him.

  Jennie would never shortchange Patrick like that. He had so much honor and worth. His mom had raised a good man, regardless of how she’d felt about Jennie. They could get to a place where Nate would have his grandmother in his life, and two parents that respected each other and loved him.

  Underneath it all, Jennie would still feel that same pain she’d always carried. Knowing what she’d lost, because of her father. What she could never have back.

  There was simply too much hurt between them. Her family had tried, at every opportunity, to destroy Patrick. Her love wasn’t stronger than the pain he’d endured—or the grief over all he’d lost.

  He would never forgive her.

  She picked up speed, ready to get to her son. She’d seen Tucker search a couple of times now. Given how he was acting, he clearly had something. Nate.

  Despite how sweet Patrick had been, this was about him and Nate. About bringing a grandmother into her son’s life. And having the chance for him to get to know his father. They’d slipped back into old habits on a few occasions, with those wonderful hugs. The times he’d kissed her forehead.

  But this wasn’t about a relationship between them. And it never would be when she couldn’t believe his feelings were real. Not just because she wanted Nate to have a true family. She’d never trust his affection had no strings.

  “Is Patrick going to be okay?” Jennie asked.