by Meryl Sawyer
“It sounds like you’re as valuable as Sadie. She picks up the scent; you interpret it.” She shrugged as if her contributions didn’t really matter. “You’re one hell of a team.”
She might have smiled a little. He couldn’t be sure because he had to watch the traffic in Big Pine Key. The tiny Key deer meant mega business, it seemed. Strip malls. Shopping centers. Winn-Dixies filled with snowbirds sporting sunburns.
“You studied the terrain as well as the animals down here?” he asked, although he knew she was too professional to leave anything to chance.
“Yes. Much of the land is marshy, but some keys have limestone cap rock honeycombed with sink holes concealed by ferns and groundcover. Many of the holes are small enough for Sadie to step into and break her leg. Others are large, filled with water, a favorite spot for alligators.” She reached back and petted the bloodhound. “This will be one of our toughest cases.”
Deer Watch Campground’s parking lot was full. The local media had gotten wind of the story, and every law enforcement officer in the lower keys seemed to be on the scene. They unloaded Sadie, who was bouncing on all fours, tail wagging.
“Sheriff Prichett is over there.”
Being tall had its advantages. He could see over the crowd and spot the beefy sheriff giving a statement to the press. The man had a long, narrow face with an unusually thick bridge of his nose, as if it had been broken many times but never set by a doctor. Kyle had been around Key West long enough to have run across Prichett more than once. If his brains were taxed, the redneck would get a rebate.
The sheriff was saying, “The state police have set up a roadblock at Key Largo.”
“What’s happening?” whispered Jennifer.
“It sounds like the little girl has been abducted.”
Fear became a high-pitched scream in Jennifer’s veins, in her head, in her heart, the way it always did when a child was lost. The past stole its way into her consciousness even though she sternly reminded herself this was a new search—another child.
She told herself to forget the past and be professional. With luck, the child was lost because kidnappings too often involved molestation and violence. Being lost was enough of a frightening experience. Being abducted usually scarred a child for life—if the child survived.
Sheriff Prichett answered a few questions, his vowels slurring into each other, the heart of Dixie in his voice. When he finished, the group of reporters stampeded past them, heading for their cars and vans. No doubt they would speed up the Overseas Highway to the roadblock at Key Largo.
Flanked by his deputies, Sheriff Prichett walked toward them on his way to his squad car. “We don’t need you,” sneered the sheriff as he walked by Jennifer without breaking stride.
Kyle stepped in front of the trio. They halted, the sheriff scowling, obviously angry, though he didn’t say a word. Inwardly, she smiled. The sheriff’s attitude toward women and K-9 units irritated her from the moment she’d gone to his office to introduce herself. But even a cracker like the sheriff who had a room temperature IQ knew better than to blow off Kyle Parker.
“What makes you think she was abducted?” Kyle asked.
“A child fitting Holly Block’s description was seen being taken from the side of the road and put into a car not far from here.” The sheriff’s tone was clipped, clearly conveying his annoyance, yet stopping just short of being confrontational.
“Why do you believe it was the missing girl?”
“Cuz we searched, walkin’ shoulder ta’ shoulder, this side of the highway. Holly was nowhere around. The highway iz so busy that she couldn’t have crossed it. She had to have been lured to a car by a sexual pervert.”
The word sexual was hard to decipher, considering the sheriff’s strong Southern accent. It came out seck-shoo-all and made Jennifer shudder. She said a silent prayer for the little girl, hoping the roadblock worked. But she had driven from Miami with Sadie and knew there were many back roads in the keys leading farther and farther away from civilization to unnamed flats and thick mangroves that were nearly impassable.
Anything could happen to a defenseless little girl.
“Isn’t it possible Holly crossed the highway?” Kyle asked. “Did you look over there?”
Slack-jawed, Sheriff Prichett glared at Kyle. Even Jennifer had to admit this was a long, long shot. The Overseas Highway was the only land route down the keys. A child wouldn’t have a prayer of a chance of crossing the road without being hit by the constant stream of traffic.
“I don’t rightly know why we would waste our time on the other side of the road.” The sheriff lost patience and stepped around Kyle. “Come on, boyz. We’ve gotta job ta do.”
“What time was the little girl spotted?” Kyle called after him.
“About two o’clock,” one of the deputies replied.
Kyle waited until they reached the squad car before saying, “Here’s where the satellite-linked surveillance system is of real value—in human terms.”
He led Jennifer over to a picnic table littered with empty Styrofoam coffee cups and soda cans. The media must have been using it. He gathered the trash and dumped it in a nearby garbage can. Holding the very hyper Sadie in check, she watched him set up the laptop he’d taken from the case.
She struggled with herself, trying not to picture the lost child in her mind. Despite her efforts, the image appeared, the way it always did when she was asked to search for a lost child. Green eyes with wispy lashes that were too long for a child not yet three. And the sweetest smile on earth.
Stop it! Concentrate, Jennifer!
“The satellite’s photographs are archived in the ‘deep’ computer at the Pentagon,” Kyle was saying, not realizing her mind had wandered. “We can rewind the video just the way you would a VCR at home, only we use the computer to do it. Let’s backtrack to the time she was seen getting in the car.”
While he logged on, she took off Sadie’s choke chain. The dog gazed up at her with soulful eyes as if to say: What happened? “It’s okay, girl. Sit. Relax a minute.”
Kyle patted the seat beside him, and Jennifer sat down, swinging her legs over the bench. In order to see the small screen, she had to scoot uncomfortably close to him. Sitting hip to hip, thigh to thigh, sent a jolt of awareness through her body, and a parade of goosebumps formed across the back of her neck, which made her positively furious with herself.
“I have to admit this Kevlar jumpsuit is really comfortable,” she said as he waited for access to be granted, determined to keep her mind on business. “I’m cooler in this than I would be in shorts.”
He looked at her in a way she found disturbingly sensual. “It’s the Thermalscan. It was developed for astronauts.”
She tried not to think about the kiss, but wasn’t successful. As much as she hated to admit it—even to herself—it had been unexpectedly erotic. She’d been waging a mental battle for hours now, telling herself Chad’s kisses elicited just as much passion. But it wasn’t true.
Conceding this did not go down well. It made her feel like a traitor. Chad was off on assignment, risking his life. She had no right to be thinking about Kyle Parker this way. She attributed her reaction to suppressed memories.
Didn’t someone once say you never forgot your first love?
That’s all this was—all it could ever be: a subconscious response to memories and feelings she’d had in the past.
“Thermalscan is great,” she said, the dryness in her throat irritating her. She swallowed hard, then licked her lips. “You’re in.” She nodded to the screen, thankful to have something to concentrate on besides Kyle. And the past.
He pushed the laptop over a few inches so it was in front of her. “The only way you’ll learn is to do this yourself.”
As he leaned disturbingly close to show her what to do, she ignored the patter of her heart, forcing herself to concentrate on his instructions. She thought of the little girl getting into a car with a stranger. Suddenly, everything else
left her mind.
“That’s it,” Kyle told her. “You’re looking at Big Pine Key at a little before two o’clock when the child was seen getting into the car. Zoom down, using the touch pad to move the cursor north of the city to the campground.”
She did it, amazed at how quickly the computer responded to the light touch of her finger. “I see the campground. The sheriff and his men are there, and so are the media. I don’t see any sign of Holly along the highway.”
“Go farther north and look.”
Nothing.
“Let’s move even more north toward Harbor Keys,” he said.
She nudged her fingertip up a hair’s breadth. “Look! There’s just one car on the highway and it’s slowing down. Where is everyone?”
Traffic in the keys was legendary. People drove southward to Key West in a steady stream all day long. Only in the dead of night did the flow of traffic slow this much.
“I don’t know. Move up toward Spanish Key.”
She moved her fingertip too quickly across the sensitive pad, and the cursor shot up to Bahia Honda above Spanish Key. She eased her finger backward and Spanish Key came into view. The slugfest of cars was stopped, but she couldn’t see why until she hit Zoom.
“Look at that. Two manatees and their young calf giving the tourists a show,” Kyle said. “No wonder traffic stopped.”
The manatee always reminded Jennifer of a walrus without tusks. The gentle creatures were endangered. Seeing a pair with a calf was a rare treat.
“Kyle, tourists will always stop for sights like this. That could have halted traffic and have given the child the opportunity to cross the highway.”
“Possibly. Go south again,” Kyle instructed. “Let’s see what was happening with the car we saw slowing down.”
The minute adjustment was difficult to make. Her finger kept dragging the cursor too far south, but finally she found the car again. It was traveling north at a normal speed.
“Too much time lapsed. Hit Backspace and hold the key down until the time clock at the corner goes back three minutes.” She did as she was told, and the picture blurred, rewinding backward; then she lifted her finger.
They watched as the Toyota slowed to a stop and the car door opened. A woman got out, and turned to help out a young girl. The woman tugged on the child’s shorts.
“Potty time,” Kyle said. “I don’t think this is the same child. Did you get a description of Holly Block?”
“Yes. It’s not Holly. She has blond hair like this child, but Holly’s wearing a pink romper and pink sandals.”
“Uh-oh,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “Check this. Here comes another car, traveling past them just as the mother is putting that child into the car.”
“I’ll bet those people reported this to the sheriff, mistaking it for an abduction.”
“Damn straight.”
“Now what?”
Her sense of alarm heightened, kicking up her pulse. The little girl had disappeared hours ago, and now the authorities were off on a wild-goose chase. Fear seeped from every pore as she recalled another search when there was a delay in looking for a little girl.
Kyle didn’t hesitate. “Back up the tape to the time she was reported missing.”
Jennifer hit the backspace key and held it down, watching the clock in the corner of the screen. “It looks like this is it. People are scurrying around the camp, but there’s no sign of the sheriff.”
“Back it up again—five, maybe ten minutes, max. Let’s see what was happening before they knew Holly was missing.”
She tapped the backspace key again and watched the clock. “Here we go. The camp is pretty quiet. I don’t see any sign of the child, but I do see a number of cars on the highway, driving past the camp.”
“Back off on the zoom. You don’t want to be in too tight.”
She touched the key and the camera lifted, giving her a broader view of the area. Up the road, she noticed several cars stopped. At this point, there wasn’t any water close to the highway, so it couldn’t have been another manatee. Without waiting for Kyle to tell her, she zoomed closer.
“A deer. The poor little guy is trying to cross the road, stopping traffic coming south. Holly could be south of here, crossing the highway.” She started to zoom even closer, but Kyle interrupted.
“Move back toward the camp.”
She did as she was told and saw a blond toddler in pink chasing a butterfly. “No cars are on the highway.” She pointed at the child on the screen. “Holly’s crossing the highway following the butterfly into the mangroves.” She shot to her feet. “Come on, Sadie. That little girl’s in big, big trouble.”
Chapter 9
Kyle caught Jennifer’s arm as she stood up. She pulled away, a little too quickly, a strange look in her eyes. He’d bet anything he was getting to her. About time.
“Isn’t it protocol to radio the sheriff?” he asked.
She pulled a pair of shades out of the gear belt around her waist and put them on. “Of course.”
“I know a little about S&R operations. You notify the sheriff, but you’re in charge, right?”
“Yes. Everyone has to do what I tell them. Otherwise, people ruin the scent trail the way they did here.”
“Do you seriously think Prichett will allow you to take charge?”
She hesitated a second, and he could see the wheels turning. She would risk a reprimand if she conducted a search without notifying the sheriff. Like the military, law authorities followed a chain of command. SEALs were an exception. They were taught to take advantage of every situation without always having to consult a superior officer.
“No doubt the sheriff will call for a helicopter,” she replied. “That’s the way he thinks.”
“Right, but he won’t be able to see much from the chopper. The canopy of trees is too dense.”
“Sheriff Prichett will try it rather than put me in charge of the search.”
“Forget radioing Prichett. We’ll deal with him later,” Kyle said as he put the computer on Hibernate and shut the case.
“You’re right. I’ve got to find Holly’s mother and get something to give Sadie the scent. Too much time has been lost already.”
Hearing her name, Sadie did a little jig around Jennifer’s feet. Sadie tugging at the lead, they rushed across the campground.
It was easy to spot the missing child’s mother. Surrounded by other campers, she was sitting under a shady tree. A man, presumably her husband, was standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder.
“Let me do the talking,” Jennifer said.
“Don’t forget the satellite is top secret. You can’t say we’ve seen the child.”
“We wouldn’t want people to know Big Brother can spy on them, would we?”
As they ran up, the group stopped talking, and he noticed how interested they were in Sadie. Tail held high, the bloodhound raced ahead of them.
“Mrs. Block?” Jennifer said to the young woman with the red-rimmed eyes.
“Yes. I’m Debbie Block.”
“I’m Jeff Block. Who are you?” demanded the man standing behind her.
To Kyle they looked like a nice young couple, but he could see the family outing had turned into every parent’s nightmare, and they were close to snapping. The mother was fighting tears, while the father’s frustration had become anger.
“I’m Jennifer Whitmore with Miami-Dade Search and Rescue. This is my partner.”
Kyle almost smiled, liking the way she called him her partner. Really liking it. They’d make one hell of a team, he decided. Then he realized Jennifer’s partner was Sadie.
“We don’t need you,” the father said. “The sheriff has set up a roadblock to catch the person who kidnapped my baby.”
Jennifer responded, “We believe Holly wandered across the highway and is lost in the mangroves. If we’re going to find her, we must do it quickly. It’ll be dark soon.”
The mother burst into tears, sobbing loudly. One o
f the women bent down to console her, but the husband crossed his arms and glared at Jennifer.
“Someone saw my little girl being pulled into a car.”
“The people might have been mistaken.”
“No way. The sheriff said—”
Jennifer cut him off. “It won’t hurt to explore every possibility, will it?”
“Pl-please, Jeff,” his wife interrupted, her voice choked with tears. “Let them try.”
With a huff of disgust, Jeff Block stomped away.
“I’ll need something Holly wore that hasn’t been laundered,” Jennifer said gently to the mother.
“We arrived early this morning. Everything’s clean except what Holly is wearing.”
“The dog can’t track her without something to sniff,” commented one of the bystanders.
“Oh, no,” cried the mother, her eyes again filling with tears.
“Does Holly have a car seat?” Jennifer asked. “I can pick up the scent from it.” Jennifer rushed toward the parking lot, pulling the mother along. “Come on, show me. There’s no time to waste.”
The rest of the group followed them. A perky brunette fell in step beside Kyle.
“I’m with CNN,” she informed him.
Yeah, right. She was a wannabe, working the parent angle of the story. If she came up with anything, she would attempt to sell it to CNN.
“I’m coming along on the search.”
“No, you’re not.” As he spoke, her expression changed, registering acute disappointment. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. “We’re in these jumpsuits to protect us from the snakes and insects. What do you think would happen to those gorgeous legs out there?”
She blushed as she looked down at the skirt that didn’t begin to cover her thighs, then she giggled. Jennifer looked over her shoulder at them, but she was too far ahead to hear what was being said. Kyle made it a point to smile at the brunette.
Jennifer halted a few feet from a green Ford Explorer with a dent in its fender. “Everyone stay back. I need to get a clean scent sample.” She held out her hand to the mother. “Give me the keys.” When she had them, she said, “Kyle, hold Sadie.”