Search and Rescue

by Valerie Hansen

  She stroked the top of his head and saw his stub of a tail begin to wag. “That’s right, boy. I’m one of the good guys. You can trust me. Now let’s see if I can trust you.”

  She unsnapped the leash. At first, the timid dog stayed close to her, not venturing far until he caught a scent and put his nose to the floor.

  “You have natural ability and curiosity,” she said, keeping her voice gentle. “Good boy.” The stubby tail wagged faster. “I can get you over your fear. I know I can.”

  So, who’s going to help me? Sophie asked herself. It had been a long time since she’d had such a strong flashback to her dysfunctional childhood, and even longer since she’d let it show enough to be noticeable. What was the matter with her? Chief Hayes—Ryder—was liable to think she was as unstable as the new dog.

  “I’m not. Not at all,” she insisted. “There must be lots of people who don’t like to be yelled at.” And, to be totally honest, Ryder had not actually shouted. Maybe it was his reference to her being stuck in her office, combined with a harsh tone, that had pushed her panic button. As a child she’d spent long hours hiding in her closet and had even crawled under the bed a time or two, seeking escape from her parents’ anger. By themselves, her mother and father were generally amiable, but put them together and they didn’t seem to know a civil word.

  “Which is why I love dogs,” she reminded herself, smiling at her new boarder. “Come, Phoenix.”

  His ears perked up and he stopped to look at her. Pleased, she repeated, “Come,” and turned to walk away. To her delight, the mottled gray Aussie trotted along behind. By this time his short tail was wagging his whole rear end.

  “Good boy. Sit,” Sophie commanded. Phoenix plunked down so fast it was a blur. She made him wait while she entered the kitchen, then released him to join her.

  “You are going to be perfect for the chief,” she told him. “Now, let’s get you food and water bowls and fix a place for you to sleep in my room. Are you hungry?”

  Two leaps and a skid on the slick, marbled vinyl floor took Phoenix straight to the refrigerator. Tongue lolling, he danced in circles.

  Sophie had to laugh. She cupped his furry face on each side and gazed into his light brown eyes, positive they reflected intelligence. “Dogs eat dog food out of bowls in this house,” she told him. “Didn’t they teach you safety in those other places?”

  He barked in her face. “Eww, dog breath,” she joked. “Follow me and pay attention. Lesson one is going to keep you from getting poisoned.”

  Sadly, it was necessary to teach working dogs to ignore treats from strangers in order to protect them. The Canyon County Training Center did allow their graduates to eat from a human partner’s hand, but only when given a specific command.

  With Phoenix close at her heels, Sophie pulled out two weighted dog dishes and placed them on a mat beside the back door. The expression on his face when he saw they were empty made her laugh again. “Patience, buddy. I’m working on your dinner.”

  He watched her every move, quivering with excitement before she released him to eat. Then he approached his food as if he’d been starving. That kind of dog could be harder to train to leave food fragments alone but considering his rapid improvement she felt confident he was a quick learner.

  As soon as he’d licked up the last crumb and polished the food dish with his tongue, Sophie accompanied him outside.

  The instant his paws hit the porch, Phoenix bristled and began to growl. Sunset was casting her small backyard in long shadows, the lingering heat making portions of the ground shimmer.

  Sophie followed the dog’s line of sight to her chain-link fence and past it to a stand of ancient ponderosa pines. The climate might not be conducive to grass and a lot of greenery but it was perfect for drought tolerant trees and scrub brush. Normally, that kind of growth made it easier to spot threats but at this time of day every silhouette seemed to mask danger.

  A gust of wind lifted her hair, bringing a welcome draft of cooler air. She squinted to see what was bothering Phoenix. If he was the kind of dog who alerted at every lizard or blowing leaf he might not be suitable after all.

  Opening her mouth to speak, Sophie never had the chance. Phoenix leaped off the porch without touching the steps and tore toward the wire fence. His bark was fierce, his hackles bristling.

  When she saw the problem her heart skipped a beat. A large rattler was coiled, ready to strike, mere feet in front of the dog. If she called him now and he turned his back on the reptile he was sure to be bitten!

  Although she was still armed she didn’t want to shoot so close to civilization unless she had to. Praying silently, she slipped off the porch and opened the door of her metal toolshed.

  A broom would only irritate the snake and a shovel was too unwieldy. A hoe, however, was ideal. If she couldn’t scare off the rattler she might be able to pin its head long enough for Phoenix—and herself—to escape. It wouldn’t be the first snake she’d routed since coming to Desert Valley, but it was the first incident involving a working dog. If the fangs pumped venom directly into a dog’s head, the chance of survival wasn’t good.

  Phoenix was still barking when Sophie approached behind him. Too bad she and the Australian shepherd didn’t know each other well. If they had, she would be able to better predict his reactions.

  Staying to one side, Sophie inched closer. There was no way she could swing faster than a snake could strike. The trick would be getting the metal blade of the hoe between it and her dog, then trying to pin it or push it away. If it had recently fed and was only defending itself, it might turn and flee.

  Another short step closer. And another. She extended the hoe. The snake’s forked tongue flashed out, its mouth opening. She could see folded fangs descending. It was ready. So was she.

  Phoenix backed up slightly. The rattler’s head rose. Sophie was out of time and she knew it. She thrust the blade forward. Her aim was accurate. With one lunge she managed to force the viper’s triangular head to the ground.

  Startled, Phoenix jumped back. He began to circle her, barking, while the snake writhed, struggling to get free. As soon as she was certain the dog was out of striking distance she gave the blade a last push, dropped the handle and made a dash for the back door.

  She didn’t get far. A slightly smaller rattlesnake was crossing her path. Two more were curled up on her back porch! Incredulous, she climbed onto an old rickety picnic table, hoping it wouldn’t collapse under her weight.

  “Phoenix, come!” The order was more than forceful. It was filled with alarm.

  Sophie braced herself as the dog vaulted to the bench, then joined her atop the table. Encountering one venomous snake wasn’t that unusual in the desert but this... This was incredible. Why in the world had they suddenly invaded? There was no wildfire to drive them into her yard. And if there had been a den located nearby she should have noticed problems right away, not several years after moving in. Such reptile gatherings tended to be seasonal and this was her third summer here.

  Wide-eyed, she scanned the ground around the table and noted three more reptiles. They instinctively knew that direct August sun would kill them and had taken refuge in shady spots. Unfortunately, some were resting between the picnic table and her kitchen door. Once night fell they’d move. But by then she’d have trouble seeing well enough to avoid being bitten, not to mention keeping Phoenix safe.

  Sophie was trapped. Frustrated. Mad at herself. She hadn’t even brought the hoe to the table with her. How long could she stay crouched without her legs and feet going to sleep? And how long could she keep the new dog from attacking the reptilian menace and getting himself killed?

  Easing into a sitting position and preparing to fold her legs, she glanced down. One of the smaller snakes was climbing onto the bench. Once he got that far he’d be able to reach the top of the table! Sophie lo
wered one foot over the edge, hooked a toe under the side of the bench, and kicked.

  It wobbled. Teetered. When it fell all the way onto its side it was farther away, hopefully far enough to keep all but the largest rattlers from getting to her.

  And speaking of those... A triangular head poked over the edge of the table. Its forked tongue vibrated. There was no way she was going to try to kick this one away.

  Drawing her gun she started to take the standard two-handed aim, then thought better of it and used one hand to grab the dog’s collar so he wouldn’t bolt when she fired so close to him.

  The first shot hit the reptile under the chin and threw it backward. Trembling, Sophie leaned over the table’s edge to make sure she’d killed it—and came face-to-face with its bigger brothers. More shots finished those. By this time, she sincerely hoped her neighbors had heard enough to call the police because she didn’t want to take her eyes off the snakes for a second.

  Up until then, Phoenix had held his position pretty well, considering. Now, however, he rose slowly, hackles bristling, and stared past the side yard to the street beyond. Sophie recognized the dog’s attitude immediately. He was no longer concerned with chasing dangerous snakes. There was something else in his sights. Something he’d sensed was evil without even seeing it.

  She swiveled, kneeling, looked in the same direction and brought the muzzle of her gun up, ready for self-defense.

  A sudden thought stripped away her bravado. How many shots had she fired at the snakes? How many bullets were left? Did she have any? In the heat of the moment she’d failed to count and if she dropped the clip out now to look, she might not be able to replace it fast enough.

  Only one thing was certain. There was at least one shell left in the chamber or the slide would have stayed back.

  Was one shot going to be enough?

  THREE

  “You’d better get over here, Chief,” rookie officer Shane Weston said, once Ryder answered the phone. “And don’t bring Titus. I think we’ve killed all the snakes but we could have missed one or two.”

  “That was what all the ruckus was about? There was enough radio traffic to have handled a small war. I could hardly make out a thing the way you were interrupting each other’s transmissions.”

  “Sorry, sir. It was pretty hectic for a while. I’m surprised she managed to keep that dog safe.”

  Ryder scowled. “Dog? What are you talking about? Was the call at the training center?”

  “No,” Weston said. “I thought you knew. Sophie Williams had a backyard full of rattlers.”

  “What? The dispatch was for the corner of Desert Valley and Second, so I didn’t realize they meant her house down the block.” His pulse jumped when he imagined the scene. “I might expect a bunch of snakes gathering like that in the spring but not now. How many were there?”

  “Hard to say. We’re still counting. That’s why I called you.”

  “Go on.” Ryder was losing patience. With Lily at home and no one to watch her, any action on his part was going to be delayed until he could drop his daughter back with his babysitter, Opal Mullins.

  “There’s more. Sophie insists somebody else was here, sneaking up on her. I’m not convinced. The snakes had her cornered in the yard and she was pretty paranoid about it.”

  Ryder clutched his phone so tightly his hand throbbed. “Is there a chance they may have been dumped there?”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” Shane said. “Some lowlife sure has it in for our head trainer. Since the bullets missed her this morning, I did wonder if they tried to kill her with a batch of rattlers.”

  “Kind of hard to plan ahead for an attack like that,” Ryder said. “Although I suppose they might have gathered them to release at the training center and changed their minds.”

  “Terrific.” He snorted wryly. “Look, the worst of the danger is over and nobody was bitten. I just thought it would be good to get your input on this. You know how Harmon and Marlton can be when they’re trying to avoid paperwork.”

  “Yeah. The sooner they retire the better,” Ryder replied. “I can’t believe Louise didn’t call me right away. Isn’t she covering the desk?”

  “Not this late. So, should we hang around? Are you coming out?”

  “Yes,” Ryder said. “I’ll have to drop Lily at the babysitter’s. Give me fifteen minutes, tops.”

  “Copy,” the rookie officer said as he prepared to end the call. “Wear your boots.”

  Ryder looked over at his drowsy, little blonde five-year-old and had to smile. He’d been reading her a bedtime story and she’d laid her head on the cushiony arm of the sofa when he’d stopped to answer the phone.

  The sight of such a loving, beautiful child made his heart beat faster, yet constricted his gut as if he’d just taken a body blow. He’d failed to protect her mother. He was not going to fail Lily. The mere concept was abhorrent. This child was his life, his legacy, his and Melanie’s, and nobody was going to harm her. He’d die before he’d let that happen.

  He gently rubbed Lily’s bare feet. “Wake up, honey. I have to go out. I’m taking you back to Miss Opal’s.”

  “Uh-uh. It’s story time. You can’t go away again.”

  Ryder felt guilty and compensated as best he could. “How about we go out for ice cream after I get back?”

  That seemed to brighten the child’s mood although she was still making a face. “With sprinkles?”

  “If that’s what you want,” Ryder promised. “Now put your shoes on while I get my boots. I need to hurry.”

  Lily’s innocent blue eyes focused on him. “What happened, Daddy?”

  “A lady found rattlesnakes in her yard.”

  “Are you gonna shoot them?”

  Ryder couldn’t tell whether the child was asking because she needed reassurance or because she felt sorry for the snakes. “I’m not sure about all of them. I imagine my officers had to shoot some.”

  Sadly, she said, “Oh.”

  “They had to protect the lady and her dog.”

  “Dog? She had a dog?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like Titus?”

  “Uh-huh. Kind of.”

  Lily began to smile. “That’s different.” Sitting up, she rested her bare feet on the big yellow Labrador retriever lying against the front edge of the couch and wiggled her toes into his fur. His tail thumped but he didn’t rise. “I love Titus.”

  “Me, too,” her father replied with a sigh. There was only one thing worse than having to retire a faithful canine partner and that was losing one in the line of duty. He knew it was time to give the old dog a rest, but he also knew that Titus would brood about being left behind. That was a given.

  He reached down and patted the dog’s broad head. “No other dog will ever work as well as you do,” he said soothingly. “I don’t care who says otherwise.”

  “Can Titus go with us?”

  “Not this time, honey. You know Miss Opal’s cats don’t like to play with him.”

  The scowl returned. Nevertheless, the child had her sandals on when Ryder returned wearing his boots.

  He held out his hand. “Ready?”

  “No.” Lily tossed her blond curls, dropped to her knees and hugged Titus’s furry neck, placed a kiss on the top of his nose, then jumped to her feet. “Okay. Now I am.”

  The poignancy of the scene almost choked him up. So did the trusting way she grasped his fingers. Losing Melanie had nearly broken him—would have—if he hadn’t had Lily. Every day that passed he loved her more. And every time he went out on a call he prayed even harder for her continued well-being.

  Yes, he could have sent her away when Carrie Dunleavy’s crime spree was uncovered. But that would have meant trusting his little girl to someone else’s care 24/7 and he simply
could not do that. No one’s vigilance could be as sufficient as his because nobody could possible love Lily as much as he did. Nobody.

  He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her.

  * * *

  Sophie wondered who in the crowd of officers combing her backyard was going give the all clear. Rookie Ellen Foxcroft was probably at the hospital visiting her comatose mother, Marian, but Shane Weston, Whitney Godwin, James Harrison and Tristan McKeller had responded. They’d done most of the actual work while Eddie Harmon and Dennis Marlton, the old-timers, had stood back and relaxed, occasionally barking an order or chuckling when one of the novices found and dealt with another snake.

  “Typical,” she muttered, preparing to call out to either Eddie or Dennis and insist that one of them release her to go back to the house. Before she could, they both straightened and began to feign being busy. That could mean only one thing. The chief was here.

  To Sophie’s amazement, the sight of Ryder’s six-foot-two, athletic self brought instant relief and more than a touch of joy. He looked just as good out of uniform, in jeans and a T-shirt, as he always did with his badge on. She waved. “Over here!”

  Though he paused to speak with Shane and then James, he didn’t tarry long. Sweeping the beam of a flashlight ahead of him to double-check his path, he came directly to her.

  “You okay?”

  “I am now,” she replied, having to restrain herself from leaping into his arms like a scared kid. “Thankfully my neighbors heard me shooting and reported trouble. It’s been a very long evening.”

  “So they tell me. Why aren’t you and that mutt in the house?”

  “Because nobody has given us the all clear.” Scowling, she eyed the part of the yard she could see from her perch. “How bad was it? I heard enough shooting and shouting to last me for the rest of my life.”

  A smile quirked at the corners of Ryder’s mouth. “Fortunately, that will be a long time thanks to my officers.” He held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll get you to the house.”

  “I’d rather you carried Phoenix, just in case,” Sophie told him. “What if they missed one?”