Sarah bolted upright to a sitting position, “Oh, hey Trooper Graves, is there something I can help you with?”
“I’m hoping you, or at least your dogs can help.”
She knew the trooper professionally. They had attended a few emergency preparedness classes together and chatted, but they were really only acquaintances until a few weeks ago.
Dave had recently been accepted intothe canine division. The state outfitted him with a black and tan bloodhound to use for tracking suspects. He had come from a non-dog background, though. He had a lot to learn—not only about scenting, but about dog behavior as well.
He had always been friendly, asking her questions about her German Shepherds, the scent work they did and how her job was going at the 911 center. Dave had made her work station a daily stop on his way out each evening as she headed in for third shift. He peppered her with questions concerning scent training and working canines. He seemed to hold her opinions in more regard than others who also showed interest. Sarah looked forward to their conversations.
Still trying to clear her sluggish head, Sarah apologetically asked him to repeat himself. She grabbed a notepad and pen from the coffee table drawer.
“Sure, we’re available. What do you need?”
“Well, we’re not quite sure yet. Possible missing person’s case.”
“Possible? Either you’re missing or you’re not,” Sarah grinned to herself.
“Well, yeah, I know,” Dave slowly replied. It was as if he was trying to concentrate on his wording. “A hiker spotted an empty boat early this morning out at Lake Marburg. Boat was caught up along the dam, halfway across the lake with the electric motor still running.”
I wonder how long one of those motors will run, Sarah thought. Maybe something to inquire into. Her boat experience was limited and she didn’t have a great deal of knowledge when it came to their mechanics.
“Do you know who the boat belongs to? Has a cursory inland search been done?” Sarah continued.
“Park rangers are still trying to identify the vehicles in the parking lot with empty boat trailers and are working on finding out who owns the boat. Rangers have also visually checked along the shorelines without success. It’s been a few hours since it was found and no one has come to claim it. Right now we have a few agencies responding… local dive team and a small ground-pounder unit. We’d like to get your team out there as well. They’re certified for water search, right?”
Sarah cringed at the mention of the local dive team. She recalled that they had been difficult to network with from earlier experience. Pretentious bastard, Sarah thought as she remembered her encounter with the dive team’s commander. Not a thought she wanted to convey to Dave at the moment.
“Oh yeah, both of my dogs are certified for water recovery as well as a few other handlers and canines on my team.” She watched her dogs stretch and yawn continuously as though trying to defuse a tense situation. They watched her from the corners of their eyes. Their behavior perplexed her, but she put it off, thinking they were feeding off her energy. “What’s base camp’s coordinates?” Sarah asked.
Dave read off the coordinates and Sarah copied them down along with a few additional notes in her waterproof notepad.
“Can I also get a contact number for you and base camp? Once I find out how many team members are available and their ETA, I’ll call you back.” Dave gave her his cell number as well as that of the lieutenant managing the search.
“Great, Sarah, really appreciate it. Looking forward to hearing back from you soon.”
Sarah ended the call. Her mind raced with thoughts of all that needed to be done. Her pulse quickened and her anxiety level pushed higher.
Stop it. Just chill out, she told herself. One deep breath, and Sarah began to make mental notes. First off, she texted her teammates to see who was available. She typed in the code for the deployment, and the search type.
Once Sarah sent the call-out, she began to get herself and her dogs, Gunner and Sam ready. Most of her equipment was already loaded in the truck, so there wouldn’t be much to prepare. Most first responders kept their supplies ready and waiting in their vehicles. Right now, she needed to wait on responses from her team.
The reality of it all started to dawn on her. This was the first time she had personally responded to an agency request for the team. Although she had been on numerous past searches in a supporting role, she had never actually deployed with her own dogs. Newly certified, they had only recently passed all of their evaluations.
But we train like we’d been deployed, she thought. She took a deep breath trying to control her excitement and nerves. A lot will be riding on this call-out.
First things first, she thought. She’d only had a couple hours of sleep. Coffee. Strong coffee. She filled the brewer to the top with water, doubled up on the grounds and flipped the switch.
The dogs picked up on her heightened anxiety. You could see the energy radiate from Gunner and Sam. The more boisterous of the two German Shepherds, Gunner ran laps between Sarah and the front door. Sliding to a stop, he almost knocked her over. Sam pretty much glued himself to Sarah’s side and wouldn’t take his attention off her.
“Settle!” she yelled. They both looked at her numbly. “How do you guys even know what’s going on?” It was like they could read her mind.
Both Gunner and Sam were search and rescue canines skilled in the art of air-scenting to locate lost people. The public normally referred to them as sniffer dogs. They were certified in wilderness and urban settings to search for live humans. Both dogs were also certified in recovery, or as some handlers classified it, human remains detection. And this past summer they had passed their evaluations in water recovery.
The dogs were obsessed with their noses and scenting. Anything and everything was fair game, even when they were not training or working. At times, it could be embarrassing where they would stick their noses. No place, no area, nothing was off-limits or private that didn’t deserve a good sniff.
Sarah thought it might be best to load the dogs in the truck prior to changing into her search uniform. She herded both dogs out the front door.
“Truck,” she commanded and they ran to the vehicle and stopped at the tailgate. “Wait.” The dogs stood and watched Sarah as she made her way to the back of the truck. Dropping the tailgate, she told both dogs to “hup” and they responded by jumping into the bed of the truck. Two extra-large dog traveling crates were secured just inside the truck bed. The dogs patiently waited while Sarah opened the crate doors. Giving the cue, “Crate,” each dog went into his respective crate. She locked and secured the doors behind them.
“You guys are awesome,” she lavished them with praise. Leaving the tailgate and hatch of the truck cap open to allow cool air to circulate, Sarah turned and headed back inside the house.
“Okay, my turn,” she said out loud, and headed down the short hallway. No pictures or decorations of any sort hung on the walls. The dark wood paneling dated her home. The lack of décor expressed the frugal minimalist in her. No reminders, no pictures of the past, no sentiment of days gone by. The only item that hung on any wall was an unframed mirror above a small table at the end of the hall.
Sarah went to the closet where her team uniform hung. Her phone started to ping with responses from teammates as she pulled her official issued team shirt and BDUs—military type trousers—off the hangers. She would wait to hear from everyone before she called Dave back.
It was the responsibility of each team member to send a return text stating whether they were available or not. They were all civilian volunteers. Never expected to show up to every search or call-out, they still needed to respond regardless. It wouldn’t be much longer since most of the team had already sent their reply. As in the past, when she had acted as the dispatcher for her commander for a call-out, it was only a matter of minutes.
The smell of coffee circulated throughout the house. Sarah pulled two travel mugs from her cabinet, a
nd filled one for now and one for later. She liked to be prepared and preferred her own stout homebrew over the usual watered-down crap that was normally offered at a search.
Stepping outside her kitchen door into the breezeway, Sarah covered herself with bug repellent. She stood for a moment to let the spray dry. Gunner and Sam excitedly barked in their crates. She laughed thinking how eager they were to be going out to work.
“Chill out, guys! We’ll be heading out soon!” she yelled to the two impatient dogs.
They didn’t know the difference between training and actually being deployed on a real search, she contemplated. To them it was all the same. It was a game. They used their noses to locate humans and in return, they got to play enthusiastically with their favorite toy and their handler. What could be better to a couple of extremely high play-driven dogs?
Checking her phone again, she went through the responses on the screen. Texts had come in from everyone. The team commander, as well as two other canine handlers were available and could respond to the search within half an hour. She sent all three a text with an ETA of 1100 hours and the base camp address.
Finding Dave’s number, she dialed. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hey Dave, Sarah here.” She could hear the commotion of base camp in the background ratcheting up her anxiety another notch.
“What can you provide for us?” Dave asked.
“We can supply five dogs. They can provide shoreline search as well as work off boats. ETA of 1100 hours for all handlers except me—I can be there in 15 minutes.”
“Great, we really appreciate it, Sarah. See you soon.”
Sarah tied a red bandana around her head in a tri-fold and secured it in the back. It helped to keep her feral curls in place. Next she pulled on her team-issued ball cap with logo and unit number embroidered across the front. She checked herself in the hall mirror. Her hat helped hold her hair in place. Copper-colored curls pulled back, name tag in place, shirt tucked in, she headed out the door.
The reality and excitement of the search hit her. This is really happening, she thought. I hope I’m prepared and ready for this. I know the dogs are. And then the intense adrenaline kicked in.
Chapter 4
Sarah
With the sun shining in the cloudless sky, Sarah sped down the road toward the state park. After several days of massive thunderstorms, cooler, drier air had replaced the humid, sticky wet weather. A trail of broken branches, downed trees and small flashflood gullies passed by as Sarah made her way toward the entrance. In her rearview mirror, she could see Gunner and Sam looking through the truck’s back window. Their eyes were glued to the back of her head. She laughed. They knew they were heading somewhere to run scent problems and they weren’t going to take their focus from their handler.
Sarah arrived onto an already hustling and active scene as base camp continued to grow. Other first responder search teams were arriving. Missing person searches seemed to bring everyone out. Even though the state police had jurisdiction over the park area, there looked to be police agencies onsite from every local podunk agency. Must be a slow morning, she thought, nothing else going on in the area.
As she entered the public marine parking lot, she was stopped by a state trooper managing the traffic congestion. She rolled down the window of her pickup truck and came to a halt. Gunner and Sam instantly broke into a barking frenzy as the officer approached the vehicle.
“You here for the search, I assume?” the trooper asked. “Your guys seem a little excited,” he smiled.
“Sorry,” Sarah said with a sheepish grin. “Always on the edge of out of control,” she laughed. “I’m with the local county search and rescue dog team. There should be three other handlers and their dogs from my organization arriving shortly.”
The trooper asked for her identification and contact information, and noted all the details on a clipboard. “Okay, Ms. Gavin, you can head toward the back of the lot if you want to park the dogs furthest away from all the commotion.” He pointed in the direction he wanted her to go.
“Sounds perfect, thanks.” Sarah pulled her truck forward and headed to the back of the lot. Driving slowly due to all the foot traffic, it gave her time to scan the area and pick out a spot where she could back in near the trees. After she put her truck in park and killed the engine, she sent a text message to her teammates to let them know where she was situated within base camp.
She secretly hoped Kellee would arrive soon. Sarah had always followed Kellee’s lead at a search. Thinking back to when they had first met several years ago, she felt it must have been fate. Although Sarah was not religiously dedicated, she did feel grateful and lucky to powers beyond herself and her control. That chance meeting guided her onto a better path in life and gave her hope there were better things in this world… and people who were actually good and kind.
Sarah had been eighteen and fresh out of foster care. Aged out on her birthday, she was put to the curb with her few belongings. Not knowing where to go or who to turn to, she had contacted a woman from a shelter who was a social worker. The woman put her in touch with a few other social workers she thought could help her situation. Although social workers weren’t always helpful, one had eventually helped Sarah find cheap housing. She also gave her the information on an open-house and job fair at a county firehouse in which Sarah ended up attending.
From that event, Sarah enrolled in a program for the county’s emergency services system and landed a job as an emergency management technician and 911 dispatcher. But most important of all, she met Kellee at the job fair. Kellee was the president of the local canine search and rescue organization that specialized in training German Shepherds for air-scenting to locate missing persons. Kellee had a booth at the job fair for her search team and two of her dogs were there. She had been looking for volunteers to join the team. Sarah, instantly smitten with the dogs, had let her guard down with Kellee.
Sarah joined the team and had spent hours hiding for her other teammates’ canines, reveling in the training. She’d become a dedicated and skilled canine handler. She also took the many necessary classes required by NIMS, the National Incident Management System. When she was ready to become a handler herself, Kellee helped Sarah find suitable dogs to train for air-scenting to become her partners in search work.
Gunner and Sam came into her life. Both dogs had a background that mirrored Sarah’s turbulent past. They had both been through several homes. Due to their high energy level and excessive play and prey drives, they had been difficult to place in a regular family home environment. Becoming frustrated in their situations, they had become destructive as well. The dogs were still young, and both proved to be perfect candidates for search work. The search training and level of activity kept the dogs satisfied mentally and physically. This kept them happy and balanced. They developed a deep bond with their handler, more than the average dog owner experienced. Sam and Gunner would do anything for Sarah.
Over the past several years, Sarah had opened up to Kellee. Insight into her emotionally and abusive fractured past. Kellee was one of the few people who understood the sins of the foster care system and what Sarah endured. She had come into her life at the right time and helped guide Sarah toward a better path, a better life. Sarah had been a little rough around the edges, but with Kellee’s consistent help, support and guidance, Sarah ended up blossoming into a successful adult. With Kellee’s assistance and persuasion, she enrolled in a state college program for women and worked toward a degree. She had only needed someone to care about her.
Sarah’s jumbled nerves were beginning to expose themselves again. She had never been the first to arrive or the one to speak with the agency running the search. This part was all new to her. Their team had never been called out by this county or agency and there would be much riding on how her team behaved professionally and how their dog teams performed in the field. This search would make or break whether they’d ever get called back as a resource in the future. T
here was no fixing a wounded relationship with an agency. Cowgirl up! she told herself and grabbed the handle to open the truck door.
Stepping out, Sarah quickly surveyed her surroundings. She had backed her truck into a spot near the trees with the nose pointing out toward the lake. She not only wanted her dogs shaded and their vision away from all of the activity, but she wanted a spot that gave her a vantage point to view that activity. It would keep the dogs cooler, calmer and let Sarah keep up with base camp goings on.
There were several vehicles between her and the shoreline. The state police had brought their older, smaller command unit and had situated it near the edge of the lot along the shoreline and tarmac. Beyond the command unit, Sarah could see a small, white fiberglass skiff grounded with a couple state troopers standing nearby. The sun was almost at its peak and the wind was blowing in from the water directly toward Sarah.
She walked to the back of the truck to drop the tailgate and lift the cap. She slid the side windows of the cap open as well to allow air to blow through the dog’s crates. Sam and Gunner were still barking. “Hey, guys,” Sarah spoke softly to them. The dogs stopped barking for a moment and tilted their dark sable heads at her. She couldn’t help smiling at their silly antics. “Just chill out, guys, I’ll be right back,” she told them and started toward the command center.
The local search and recovery dive team was already on scene gearing up to go out. She had run into this particular team at past searches she’d attended when still a trainee. She remembered them well. This dive team was not fond of the use of canines in water searches. They had new technology. Expensive equipment they believed infallible. They also needed to justify the expense of the unit. Side Scan Sonar (SSR) was finally making it into the hands of smaller run resources. Sarah agreed it was a great resource, but it still didn’t take the place—or could compete with a canine’s scenting ability—as far as she and her teammates were concerned.
Payback (The Canine Handler Book 1) Page 2