All That I Dread

by Linda J White

  “Find Pip,” Nate called out to my dog.

  It was a little annoying that he was telling my dog what to do, but I went along with it this time. We were all exhausted, and Nate was hurt, and well, I just decided to ignore it.

  But as we neared the bottom of the hill, I began to panic about Luke. He was nowhere in sight nor could I hear where he was. I blew the emergency whistle again, and suddenly, I heard him barking. It was his happy bark, and seconds later he came crashing through the forest along with a very dirty and bedraggled border collie. Pip.

  “Good boy, good boy!” I cried. “Good dog!” Thankfully, we had just set Kelly down, and I was able to pound Luke’s side and let him know how happy I was. I looked up at Nate. “How’d you know he’d find her?”

  Nate shrugged.

  The dog man strikes again.

  The ambulance took Kelly off to a hospital about forty minutes away. Ron agreed to take Pip home, and Susan, Nate, and I went back to the barn, dirty, tired, and frustrated. We’d spent the day, the whole day, on searches that were not only useless, they were harmful.

  “We’re not doing this tomorrow,” Nate said as we walked into the barn. He sank down in a camp chair. That’s when I saw his face wasn’t the only casualty—his left pants leg was torn, and I could see his knee was bloody.

  “Hey, your knee’s all messed up. Can I help you with that?” I asked.

  “I’ll get it in a minute. I just need to sit for a while. You okay with me checking out for a bit?”

  “Sure, Nate. Whatever you need.”

  “A while” turned in to half an hour. He moved to the back of the barn, sat on a straw bale, and leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. Most people would have thought he was just resting, but I knew what he was doing; he was praying. I guessed that was his version of re-centering, of practicing mindfulness, of processing his emotions. Sprite jumped up next to him and rested her head on his leg.

  I left him alone, busying myself with figuring out where to pitch the tents, and petting Luke, all while fighting my own internal battles. I felt like the sheriff’s office was toying with us, giving us busywork so they could be the real heroes, but this wasn’t about being a hero. The stakes were higher than most of them realized. A young woman’s life was at risk. I wished I were back in law enforcement, using my gun and my badge to find her. To protect and serve, just like my father. That had been my goal since I was twelve.

  I felt a rush of shame as the reality of my old failure hit me again. I heard the accusations from the guys back in Fairfax, felt the sideways stares, and cringed at the jokes they claimed were just part of being a cop.

  Overwhelmed, I sat down on a straw bale in the stall. Luke pressed himself against me, and I softly petted him. I could feel that little book in my back pocket. I thought about pulling it out to distract myself with the stories inside.

  But something in me rebelled at that, and instead, I sat there, consumed by a mini-panic attack. It felt like a series of little electrical shocks, like miniature cattle prods or Tasers being fired at me. It unnerved me. Would I ever be whole again?

  After a while, I heard Nate get up. He opened his first-aid kit and doctored his wounds. I would have helped, but I got the feeling he didn’t want to be touched by anyone, even me, just then. I understood that.

  So I checked my phone and found a barbeque place not far away. I knew Nate loved barbeque. So, I volunteered to go get us food.

  “That would be right nice,” he said, looking at me with those blue eyes. “Thank you.”

  Nate was back. Thank goodness. I felt my own soul settle.

  I put Luke in a stall and climbed into my car, happy to be behind the wheel, happy to be in control of something. Willie’s BBQ was about fifteen minutes away. The whole time I was driving, navigating those twisty back roads, I was thinking about Laney, keeping alert for any clues I might happen to pass.

  But there was another thought lurking in my head. It was just outside my mind’s eye, and it was bugging me that I couldn’t figure out what it was, couldn’t bring it into view.

  I was about five minutes away from Willie’s when I got a call from Nate asking me to pick up food for Scott too. “And we ain’t sleepin’ in the barn. He got us rooms at a motel. I’m texting you the address. Meet us there. I’ll bring Luke and your stuff.”

  Well, that was good news. I was bone-tired and sleeping in a bed rather than on the ground sounded great.

  I got double orders for the guys, ribs and pulled pork sandwiches, with coleslaw and fries, and a sandwich for me. I plugged the address Nate had sent me into my phone and found it was only ten minutes away. I was on my way there when I remembered I needed to get oil for my Jeep. Fortunately, I saw a place that was a combination country store and gas station. I pulled in.

  The place was jammed with men. They all looked like hunters, wearing camo and orange hats, or construction workers, and they were buying beer and cigarettes and Skoal. Instantly, uneasy shivers ran up my spine. I moved toward the back where I guessed the auto supplies would be found if they had any.

  They did. They had five different brands of oil of the grade I used, all in plastic containers. I picked up one and started reading it, wondering if I could mix it with what was already in the oil pan. I finally just grabbed one and went to stand in line at the counter.

  There were four guys ahead of me. I began looking at the impulse buys they’d put up front near the register, the trinkets and keychains, candy and lighters. And then something else caught my eye. On the shelf behind the register next to cartons and cartons of cigarettes, were some sculptures—animal figures carved out of wood.

  My heart thumped. “Can I see one of those?” I asked when my turn came.

  “Which one?” The clerk, a grizzled old guy in his fifties, growled at me.

  “The eagle.” I moved to the side and said to the guy behind me, “You go ahead.”

  I took the carved figure in my hand. It was about six inches high, unpainted, and beautifully done. Wings outspread, claws extended, that eagle looked like it was just about to grab a fish or a mouse.

  I turned it over, expecting to see a Made-in-China sticker on the bottom. But no, there were only the initials “JJ.”

  I stepped back to the register.

  Keeping my voice level, I said, “Where’d you get these?”

  The old guy huffed. “Local guy. He makes ‘em. Name’s Junior. Says he’s from around here. I don’t know him. Comes in every Monday, and I pay him for what we’ve sold.”

  My heart jumped. “I’d like three of these please, the eagle, the dog, and the deer.”

  “They’re twenty bucks. Each.”

  “They’d make good Christmas gifts, right?” I flashed a smile as I pulled out cash.

  He handed me my change. “Next?”

  I scooped up my statues and oil and left, my heart pounding.

  42

  Ten minutes later I arrived at the motel. Nate had texted me a room number. I put the statues in my jacket pockets, grabbed the food, and went in, my head still buzzing from what I’d found.

  Scott answered the door. Nate rose to take the bags of food out of my hand, and Luke came over and nudged me. I should have felt welcomed and comfortable. Instead, my excitement over finding the statues dissipated. My nerve abandoned me. How crazy was I to think these little carvings had anything to do with the murders? I mean, more than one guy knows how to whittle.

  So I did what I always do. I faked it and passed out the food. We ate and talked about the case we were on and the problems we’d had, and all the while, those statues were dancing like sugar plums in my head.

  Scott shared his frustrations, and as always, Nate listened thoughtfully and gave encouraging advice. I, on the other hand, remained mute, about as useful as a carved figure sitting on a shelf.

  We finished eating and cleaned up, but oddly, that image—me, carved and sitting on a shelf—kept nagging at me. Finally I gave in to my intuition
.

  At a pause in the conversation, I said, “This may seem crazy, but on the way here, I had to stop at a gas station.” I told them the rest of the story, then I rose and retrieved the statues from my jacket pockets. I handed one to each of them, keeping the little dog for myself.

  Scott was the first to react. “Wow, these are beautiful,” he said, rotating the wood carving in his hand.

  “Somebody spent a lot of time whittlin’ to get this good,” Nate said. He looked straight at me, and I could tell by the light in his eyes he thought I was on to something.

  “As soon as I saw them, I couldn’t help but think—”

  “of the guy whittling in the woods.” Scott finished my sentence for me. He rose to his feet. “Where’d these come from?”

  I felt a rush of affirmation. I could tell from their energy, both guys were on board. I told them about the store, gave them the location, and provided all the information the clerk had given me.

  “All right. Thanks! I’ll get right on this,” Scott said as he collected the other two statues. Then he turned his eyes full on me. “You’ve got good instincts, Jess. And look, I’ll punch out anybody who gives you a hard time. You just let me know.”

  Masculine posturing usually irritates me, but that night, it felt good.

  My room was right next to Nate’s. He helped me get settled in, then we walked the dogs together in the grassy area behind the motel. I noticed he was limping a lot, although the abrasion on his face had stopped bleeding.

  We agreed to get up at five o’clock, so we had time to eat breakfast and take care of the dogs before the sun came up. Hopefully, we’d have more logical areas to search. In fact, both of us had wondered about searching the area of the apartment where Laney was last seen. Maybe she’d dropped something—a purse, a cell phone, or a tissue—anything that might provide a clue. Luke was trained to find any person, but I thought he’d alert on a smell from a specific person as well.

  The next morning at breakfast, Nate asked me if I’d heard from my sister. “Nope,” I responded, “but that’s not unusual. We don’t talk a lot.”

  He scratched his chin, which made me think. Should I be more aggressive about touching base with her?

  The head of the K-9 unit called Nate at six-thirty, bypassing Susan, the incident commander. Typical. He wanted to meet with us and when Nate told him where we were, he agreed to come to the motel.

  Ty Washington’s demeanor was as chiseled and tough as his body. He barely looked at Susan or me. When he saw Sprite lying on the bed in Nate’s room, he rolled his eyes.

  His demeanor and aggression didn’t seem to faze Nate, who held his ground, insisting on giving input as to where we would search. “We been doing this a number of years, Ty,” he said firmly. “I can tell you what makes sense when it comes to searching.”

  Finally, the two of them began poring over the maps, and they came up with three areas both agreed were worth searching—two near the college and one near Jared’s apartment. Nate asked Susan to consent, which of course she did, and the two men shook on it.

  My enthusiasm for having logical marching orders for the day was tempered by a panicky phone call I received from my mother.

  “Jess, Brooke’s missing!”

  “Mom, what? What are you talking about?” I pressed the phone to my ear and walked away from the others. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the K-9 officer leave.

  “Your sister! I can’t reach her. And I saw on the news about this missing woman up in Brooke’s area.”

  “It’s not Brooke, Mom. The missing woman’s name is Laney.” I took a deep breath, trying to relax. To be honest, the fear in my mother’s voice was getting to me. “When did you last hear from Brooke?”

  “I talked to her Thursday night. But she was supposed to call Frank this weekend! And she didn’t.”

  “About what?” I didn’t hear an immediate answer, so I rephrased it. “What was she supposed to call him about?”

  “I don’t know. It’s usually about money, or her car, or something.”

  “Well, Mom, she probably just got busy. With midterms or something.” Did they still have midterms in college? It seemed to me they were just giving out smiley faces these days. “I assume you’ve tried calling her?”

  “Over and over.”

  I chose not to mention my own unproductive calls. “She probably forgot to charge her phone. Tell you what, Mom. Give me her address and any names you have—roommate, friends, any contacts. And I’ll see if I can track her down.”

  “You’ll drive up there? You have time?”

  A little flash of guilt went through me. Obviously, I wasn’t that great at communicating either. “I’m actually in her town already, with Luke. We’re working on the search for the other girl.”

  “I had no idea!”

  “Sorry, I didn’t tell you. We got called out suddenly and well, I’ve been busy.”

  “I guess so.”

  Mom gave me Brooke’s address, but all she had for contacts were first names. Seems like little Brookie didn’t want Mom and Dad to know too much about her college life. I took what she had, though, and promised I’d find her.

  I clicked off the phone and turned toward Nate, whose eyebrows were raised. “Brooke. My Mom can’t reach her either.”

  Nate shook his head just once. “Kids going to college can be hard on a parent. Not knowing where they are and all.” He looked at me. “What do you want to do?”

  I’d already decided. “I want to do this first search, and then maybe over lunch I’ll run by her dorm.”

  “Sounds like plan.”

  “Nate …”

  He turned back to me.

  “How do you stay so cool when you’re dealing with people like that guy, Ty?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was so dismissive of you, me, Susan, even Sprite. So arrogant.”

  Nate nodded. “He was that. Deal is, though, he ain’t my boss. Ain’t my father or my teacher. Got no right to judge me. So why should I care what he thinks? That’s his problem.” He bent down and patted Sprite. “You got to know who to listen to, who to believe. You don’t want to give just anybody a key to your soul.”

  I thought about that as we packed up. In the past, I’d allowed just about anybody that access. I usually succeeded at what I was doing, so the accolades piled up and so did my self-esteem.

  But that dreadful night, that dark and rainy night when a suspect we were bringing in killed my partner, when I totally lost control of a critical situation, that night wiped out all the gains in self-esteem I’d ever made. My heart was used to searching for approval from the people around me. Then what it found was condemnation. Criticism. Scorn. And instead of self-confidence and pride, shame had flooded in.

  Nate had said only two things were strong enough to cover shame. The first was anger. The second … my mind flashed back to the woman in the story. I realized I had stopped packing up and Nate was staring at me.

  I looked at him, eyes wide. “The second thing strong enough to cover shame—it’s love, isn’t it?”

  He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling. “Yep. The unconditional love of God.” He didn’t go any further. It was like he was inviting me, not trying to control me. And it almost made me want to pursue it further.

  Almost, but not quite.

  The first area we’d been given to search was partially wooded and part open, rolling hills. The other SAR team took the open part. Nate and I would search the woods. Luke trembled with excitement as I put his SAR vest on. “You ready to go, buddy?” I asked him. “Ready to go?”

  “Go” was one of his favorite words. He danced around me.

  Nate had a search plan worked out. We cleared it with Susan and were just about to set off when I got a text from my Mom. Let me know if you find her.

  I was so focused on finding Laney right then that momentarily, I was confused. Then I realized Mom was talking about Brooke. Will do, I texted back.

 
; “Ready?” Nate asked.

  “Yes.” I made Luke heel, unclipped his leash, and uttered his very favorite word. “Seek!” He bounded off into the woods, and Nate and I followed.

  It still gave me great joy to see my smart dog doing what he loved.

  For the next two hours, we chased after Luke. We checked out gullies, a couple of abandoned outbuildings, a small cave, and several streambeds. We crossed an old, broken-down fence, found a pretty meadow, and started working our way back again.

  All the while, I was hoping we would not find a little clearing where a dead girl stared sightlessly upward.

  On the way back, I called Luke to me and distracted him. Nate went ahead and hid so Luke could find him. You’ve got to let these dogs succeed as often as possible to keep them in the game.

  Luke was elated when he found his second favorite person in the world. He came racing back to me, pulled the tug on my belt, and raced back to Nate, back and forth. When I caught up with them, they were engaged in a rowdy tug of war over a stick. “Good Luke, good boy!” I said and pulled his toy out of my pocket.

  Oh, the joy that dog expressed over such simple things. I couldn’t watch him without smiling.

  “Makes your burdens feel lighter, don’t it?” Nate said.

  We walked out of the woods and checked in with Susan. We agreed to meet at our next location in ninety minutes. Nate would take Luke with him back to the motel. I was on my way to my sister’s dorm.

  I started out in irritated, big-sister mode. Leave it to Brooke to intrude on my plans. I would have loved to be able to have a relaxed lunch with Nate, maybe stretch out a little, before going on to our next assignment.

  But no, here I was, tracking down my irresponsible half sister so my panicky mother wouldn’t completely disown me. Brookie was the family treasure. I had to find her.

  43

  I had no problem finding her dorm, and no problem getting in—I just walked in behind someone. College students are notoriously nonchalant about security, even when they’re sober. I took the elevator to the third floor and knocked on the door.