TWO TO DIE FOR

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TWO TO DIE FOR Page 4

by Allison Brennan


  He checked the alarm panel by the front door. All green. Everything on and functioning normally.

  Maybe it was just the silence that had woken him up.

  Then he heard another sound, like claws walking across the deck. A coyote, maybe, or bear. Sean wasn’t much of an outdoorsy person, his love of the mountains notwithstanding. He liked the hiking and fresh air a lot more than the wild animals and sleeping in tents.

  He flipped on the lights and was stunned to see Bandit sitting on the deck. When the lights went on, the dog stood up and barked.

  “That’s Bandit,” Lucy said from behind him.

  Sean turned off the alarm system and let Bandit inside, along with a burst of cold, cold air.

  “Hey, buddy, what are you doing here?” Sean knelt down and scratched the dog. His fur was icy to the touch and he was panting. He must have been out for some time.

  “Hank must be worried sick about him,” Lucy said.

  Sean inspected the Golden Retriever. “He’s filthy. Poor guy has some vine stuck in his fur.” He frowned and inspected a cut on Bandit’s nose. The poor dog looked exhausted. “He’s been out for a while.”

  “I’ll get him some water.” Lucy went into the kitchen.

  “What’s up with you, buddy?” Sean asked.

  Bandit licked his hand and whined.

  “Did you get chased by a mean old bear? Go after a rabbit maybe?” He was young and not well trained. He could have broken away from Hank and gone after an assortment of animals. Had a little adventure. Hank said he was prone to wandering, but always came home.

  Would Hank have let him out this late? Did Hank think he’d come home on his own? He must be worried about the pup.

  Lucy came back with water, which Bandit lapped up greedily. He had a slight limp, though as he walked around the family room and whined, it seemed to improve.

  “Let’s drive him back to Hank,” Sean said. “Grab an extra blanket for the back of the car.” It wasn’t a long walk, but it was dark and the hillside was steep, even if they stayed to the path.

  Sean had a dog when he was a kid, but Kirby had been hit by a car right in front of Sean when he was eleven. The idiot driver didn’t even stop—sped right through the stop sign on Sean’s street, missing Sean by mere inches and killing Kirby on impact. He’d never wanted another pet.

  Lucy came out and put her hand on Sean’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” She squatted next to him. “Sean—are you okay?”

  “I had a dog once. He died. I don’t know why I’m thinking about him now.” As gently as he could, he pulled the worst of the vines out of Bandit’s coat. They were prickly, and the leaves had a sticky underside. He didn’t remember seeing these plants between his house and Hank’s. Bandit must have gone far off.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “It was a long time ago.” Kirby had been an English Pointer. Well, mostly. He had something else in him, the vet thought possibly a quarter lab, but his markings were all pointer. Sean had adopted him from the pound. Originally, Kirby was going to be a family dog, but he picked Sean. Funny how dogs did that. Sean took Kirby everywhere with him.

  “Does this look like an animal scratch to you?” Sean asked.

  Lucy inspected Bandit’s nose. “I don’t think so. Maybe a branch. Hank will need to have him checked out, get him on antibiotics just in case.”

  “I should have gotten Hank’s phone number, make him come and pick up his dog.” Sean sounded angry, and he didn’t know why. Hank wouldn’t intentionally risk his dog’s life, but Sean didn’t understand why he’d let him out so late in the first place.

  “You don’t mean that. There’s a logical explanation.”

  They dressed warmly because the temperature had dipped into the low teens. They took Bandit down the stairs into the garage. Bandit laid down on the blanket Lucy spread out on the back seat of Sean’s car.

  It took only minutes to drive to Hank’s house. Hank’s old Jeep was in the driveway, but the only lights on were exterior security lighting that turned on at sunset.

  “It’s late—maybe he went to bed,” Lucy suggested.

  Sean didn’t think Hank would go to bed when his dog was lost. Why hadn’t he asked Sean to help look for Bandit?

  They walked up to the porch and knocked on the main door. Sean tried the knob. Locked. He knocked again. “Hank!” he called. “It’s Sean Rogan. We found Bandit.”

  He waited a minute, listened for sounds to indicate someone was walking inside. Nothing.

  He glanced at Lucy, but didn’t say anything. He retrieved his lock pick from his pocket. Hank was in his seventies. He could easily have fallen and injured himself. Or worse.

  “He could be out looking for Bandit,” Lucy suggested.

  “At one in the morning?”

  Sean didn’t believe it, and neither did Lucy.

  He picked the lock quickly and they entered, closing the door against the cold. Lucy found the light switch. Together, they searched Hank’s small, cluttered house. Empty with no sign of disturbance. The dishes had been washed and put away, and there was no food out. Hank might be a collector, but he was a tidy man.

  Bandit whimpered, and Sean wished he knew what the dog was trying to tell him. “Do you know where Hank is, Bandit?”

  Bandit curled up in his bed and looked at Sean.

  “I’ll leave him a note that we have Bandit,” Lucy said. “Why don’t you get some of his food and we’ll keep him the rest of the night.”

  Lucy found paper and a pencil and wrote a note for Hank, leaving their cell phone numbers as well, and put the paper on the center of the clean counter. Sean filled a paper bag with Bandit’s dry food, then they turned off all but the kitchen light, locked up, and drove back to their house.

  “We should call the police,” Lucy said.

  The police wouldn’t be able to do anything in the middle of the night. Sean wanted to search for him, but didn’t know where to start. He didn’t have the proper equipment or lights, and he didn’t know the terrain.

  “Call them,” Sean said, “but if Hank isn’t home in the morning, I’m going to look for him myself. He said he planned to hike up the mountain, toward the fire road. Maybe he fell, injured himself.”

  Lucy squeezed his hand. “We’ll look for him together.”

  #

  Lucy hung up the phone, frustrated. The sheriff’s department said they’d send a deputy to Hank’s house, but that there was nothing else they could do until morning. She understood their reason—Hank was a lucid seventy-year-old retired forest ranger. If he got into trouble, he would know how to take care of himself, or call for help. Lucy prayed that was the case, not that he was seriously hurt. Or worse.

  Sean had made a bed for Bandit on the floor of their bedroom. The dog knew the blanket was for him, and he curled into a tight ball—as tight as a Golden Retriever could get. Poor pup wasn’t himself.

  Sean sat on the floor, petting the dog. “Try to get some sleep,” Lucy said. “We’ll be up early to look for Hank.”

  Lucy didn’t want to think about him being cold and alone tonight, and hoped he had enough equipment with him to be able to withstand the temperature. The only blessing was that it wasn’t wet, otherwise he would be in far more danger.

  “Bandit can help,” Sean said. “He’s a smart dog. I’ll bet he can retrace the path Hank took.”

  She reached out and took Sean’s hand. He let her help him up, pulled her close. Tension tightened his muscles. “We’ll find him, Sean.”

  “I know.”

  He didn’t sound confident, which bothered Lucy. Sean was always the confident, optimistic person in their relationship.

  They crawled back into bed and Sean held Lucy close to him. She doubted they would sleep, but she closed her eyes.

  She’d just felt Sean relax and had herself started to drift off when a distant sound startled her. Sean was immediately up and on his feet.

  “What was that?”

  Lucy sat up
. “A truck?” She wasn’t certain. It didn’t really sound like a vehicle.

  “Hank said he heard an odd sound the other night and planned to investigate.”

  Lucy turned the light on low. Bandit was on his feet, his ears perked up.

  Sean looked out the window, though they couldn’t see the road from here. “It sounds too far away to be on our road. Maybe the highway, but it sounds like it’s coming from the west, not south. Maybe some sort of machinery or road work. But—I don’t know, I didn’t see any signs on the highway that they were doing roadwork at night.”

  “We can’t do anything about it tonight, Sean. Sounds carry up here. It could be coming from nearly anywhere.”

  “I know, but …” His voice trailed off as he stared out the window. Sean hated sitting around and waiting—it was his own personal hell.

  Lucy took his hand and led him back to the bed. They sat on the edge and she put her head on his shoulder. Bandit walked over and laid down at Sean’s feet.

  It was a long time before either of them slept.

  Chapter Five

  Before dawn, Sean rose and made a pot of coffee. He disliked coffee, but he needed the caffeine.

  While it brewed, he checked his email. Most of it he ignored—nothing that couldn’t be dealt with after his honeymoon, or at least until after they found Hank. He glanced at a message from his brother Kane, who was watching their house. Everything was in order. JT Caruso had sent a message days ago confirming the annual RCK meeting and debriefing at the end of January. They had a lot to discuss in light of everything that had happened over the last few weeks. Sean sent off a confirmation message to JT, adding that if there was an emergency to text him because he wouldn’t be checking his email regularly.

  JT responded immediately: What are you doing on your computer now?

  Ha, ha, Sean thought.

  The only other message he opened was from Nate.

  I emailed Lucy about what’s been going on in the office—I don’t want to disturb you two, but I don’t want her coming back blindsided.

  Sean replied:

  If you don’t respond to her questions, she’ll start to worry, and this is a worry-free honeymoon, so tell her what she wants to know, but nothing more.

  At least, it was a worry-free honeymoon until Hank disappeared.

  When Sean and Lucy first moved to San Antonio, he met everyone on her team, and Nate Dunning had quickly become his closest friend. Nate was a combination of Lucy’s brothers, Patrick and Jack. Patrick was Sean’s best friend, and they shared a love of technology and video games. Nate was former Army like Jack, and had that same edge that a lot of the long-time military guys had. Other than his family—in which he included both JT Caruso and the Kincaids—there was no one else Sean trusted more than Nate.

  Sean ignored the remaining emails about RCK business; there was nothing urgent on his plate. Anything time critical would come direct from JT.

  Sean felt surprisingly confident about his decision to return to the family business. He’d left last year because he and his brother didn’t see eye-to-eye. Sean was supposed to be an equal partner, but Duke had treated him like the problem child, the one who was always getting in trouble. Duke was stunned that Sean had walked away, but if he hadn’t, he’d never have been able to return on his own terms. Now, he and Duke could work together, but Sean reported directly to JT and took assignments as any of the other partners took assignments—on their own terms. He no longer had Duke checking up on him or second guessing him or telling him he had to work for one client but couldn’t take on another.

  Duke couldn’t help himself. He’d raised Sean after their parents died, and Sean hadn’t been the easiest teenager out there. He’d been very angry and very smart, a dangerous combination. He’d done some stupid and reckless things. Duke was the one who stayed, when he could have done what the other Rogans did—throw themselves into school or work. Sean would always appreciate that Duke sacrificed so much to be his guardian, but it was only recently that Duke had seen Sean as an equal, not as the troublemaking little brother. And only because Sean had made his stand.

  Sean poured himself coffee. He grimaced as he drank. He’d tried it every way he could, and nothing appealed to him. Lucy liked it light and sweet, but her way was too sweet for him. He added cream, which made the taste go from awful to just bad.

  He sat back down and pulled up a mapping program on his tablet. He had investigated the area before he decided to buy the house, and he needed to overlay all the maps to figure out the most logical way to retrace Hank’s steps. It was clear they would need to start at his house and go from there, but what was up off the fire road? There were several properties, but federal land—managed by the Bureau of Land Management—cut through the mountain and was responsible for maintaining the access road.

  He pulled down property records of the area and overlaid those on the topographic map, and realized that Hank’s property went west until it reached the federal land. The access road cut through several other private properties, though the government portion was a hundred-foot-wide strip with the access road in the middle.

  Sean quickly researched the rules of access—not that he would follow them—but he couldn’t find any major restrictions. No overnight camping in the area seemed to be the only prohibition.

  The Cannons—the people who carved the bears—owned a large chunk of property to the north. They were only a few miles as the crow flies, but there was no easy way to get to their property from Sean’s because of the steep terrain. If Sean and Lucy couldn’t find Hank on foot, he’d drive over to the Cannons’ property, which abutted the vehicular entrance to the access road. He might have to borrow a truck; he didn’t trust his Mustang on the rutted, unpaved roads in the area.

  Lucy came downstairs. “You should have woken me up.” She leaned over and kissed him.

  “I would have in a few minutes.”

  “You need to eat something,” Lucy said. “We’ll have no energy for a long hike without fuel.”

  He glanced at her. “You don’t need to cook.”

  She shot him a narrow look as she opened the refrigerator. “You sound scared.”

  He smiled, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Lucy had many skills; cooking wasn’t one of them.

  She pulled out the left-over frittata he’d made yesterday. “I can use a microwave,” she said.

  “And very well, I might add,” he said.

  She cut two pieces, warmed them in the microwave, and placed them on the table.

  “Eat, I’ll follow-up with the Sheriff’s Department. I doubt they have news, but the squeaky wheel and all that.”

  Lucy put the phone on speaker, and the dispatcher patched her through to a deputy. “Agent Kincaid? This is Deputy Anita Longfellow.”

  “Did you find Hank?”

  “I just came on duty, but I’ve been briefed.”

  “He’s been missing since last night.”

  “Another deputy went to his house when you first called and we put out the call to be on the look out for him, but as dispatch told you last night, there was nothing more we could do.”

  Sean said, “Deputy, Sean Rogan here. Hank told me he heard a vehicle or machinery on the fire access road west of his property on Thursday night. My wife and I heard the same noise late last night, about three in the morning.”

  “I’ll head up there as soon as I check Hank’s house.”

  “So are we.”

  “I don’t advise that.”

  Sean grunted. He didn’t care what the sheriff’s department said—a man was missing, they needed all the help they could get.

  Lucy said, “Deputy Longfellow, you need help searching, and both Sean and I have experience.”

  “I can’t stop you, but be prepared and carry a radio. Cell phones often don’t work on the mountain, and the last thing I need is another missing person. When and if we confirm that we have a lost hiker, we have an experienced search and rescue unit we’ll call in
. I’m not blowing you off, Agent Kincaid. Just let me do my job.”

  “Call me as soon as you know anything—even if it’s nothing. We’re worried about Hank.”

  “I have your contact information.” The deputy hung up.

  Lucy frowned. Sean said, “We didn’t expect more.”

  “I’d hoped they’d welcome our help.”

  “They will when they meet us and realize how valuable we are.” He kissed her, then motioned to the backpacks he’d packed before Lucy woke. “Make sure you grab extra ammo, just in case, and there’s a first aid kit in the master bathroom. Wear your hiking boots.”

  “Hank’s smart,” Lucy said. “He’s trained, he knows the area.”

  Lucy sounded like she was trying to convince not only him, but herself. Seventy might be the new fifty, but anyone could get hurt in the woods, even the most physically fit athlete. Sean had once fell down an old mine shaft, and if it hadn’t been for Lucy’s quick thinking, he might not have been found in time.

  Sean finished the left-over frittata, though he didn’t really taste anything. He forced another half cup of coffee down, then fed Bandit. Lucy went upstairs to dress, but Sean had been ready since he got up. He was antsy, even though safety required they wait until after sunrise to head out.

  Sean had the area mapped out, and he would let Bandit take the lead—as long as he thought the dog knew what he was doing. Though still technically a puppy at just under two years, Sean suspected that Bandit was a lot smarter than he acted.

  While Sean might not be well-versed in hiking or tracking through the wilderness, he knew what to look for. His fear was that they wouldn’t find Hank alive.

  Or that they might not find him at all.

  #

  Sean parked at Hank’s house and they put their packs on. It was cold but windless. Bandit immediately ran up to the deck of his house and sniffed around. Sean inspected the house again—it was as they’d left it late last night. Hank hadn’t been home.

  Lucy called him outside. “Here’s the path Hank uses—it’s clear he hikes through here all the time.”

 

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