Escape to Morning

by Susan May Warren

  She turned away, as if embarrassed, and for a second he had the urge to wrap an arm around her. To hold her close, run his hand through that unkempt hair, and tell her that he was sorry. He’d make it better.

  Yeah, right. He was a pro at making things better.

  He backed away from her, feeling brittle and not a little like the town bully. “I’m … sorry, Dani. I didn’t mean to—”

  She turned back and stared at him, wariness in her eyes. “I’m not telling you anything, Will. I’d rather … have my tongue nailed to a table with a fork. Just … go away.” Her hand shook as she reached for her door.

  He couldn’t help it. Something about the hurt in her voice made him touch her arm.

  She jumped, yanking it away as if she’d been burned. She held her arm, eyeing him with fear.

  “I’m really sorry,” he said quietly, and slightly rattled. “I’m not trying to hurt you here. But I have to know what you found.”

  Confusion filled her eyes. Then, slowly she edged back, shoved her hands in her coat pockets. She lifted her chin. “I might look like easy prey, but believe me, I know how to defend myself.” But fear had pinched her voice high and thin, and she looked about two seconds from snapping.

  Defend herself? What kind of scumbag did she think he was? How exactly did this morph from a little look-see at her morning fun into an encounter that she might term as an assault? He backed away and purposely added kindness to his voice. “That’s not what I meant.”

  She glared at him.

  He shook his head. “I promise, hurting you is the furthest—I just … need to know—”

  She lunged at him, swinging a Maglite she’d hauled out of the pocket of her over-sized jacket. It clipped him across the temple. Okay, she wasn’t kidding about being able to defend herself. His head rung. He fell to one knee, reached out to her. “Don’t—”

  But she dived for the door. “Stay. Away. From. Me!” She slammed the door, locked it before turning the engine on, and popped the truck into drive. As he blinked back little black splotches, she floored it.

  Ten feet away she stopped, cracked her window. “If you come near me again, Mr. Masterson, I’ll introduce you to the German shepherd side of my dog.”

  Her tires squealed as she peeled out of the rest area.

  Will rubbed his head, feeling a bump. So much for trying to get on her short list of friends. He returned to his truck, picking up Missy’s Frisbee along the way. At least he knew where to start looking for Amina.

  He glanced at the sky, remembered the pain prowling Dani’s—Dannette’s—eyes. Okay, God, I know I’m not so good at being Your man, but I really, really blew it this time. He shook his head, hardly believing he’d somehow turned into a terrorist in Dannette’s eyes. Please forgive me for scaring her, even though You know that wasn’t my intent. He could probably forget starting over with her.

  He turned, stared into the woods. And if Amina is out there, I’d sure appreciate Your help in finding her.

  Dannette eased off the gas, pretty sure that she had broken a few speed records barreling down the road. A gal who made her living as a search-and-rescue operative might do well to remember she had a very valuable K-9 in the back of the pickup. She slowed the truck and even pulled over to the curb, feeling as if her heart were already back in Moose Bend, packing her things and heading south.

  Putting miles between herself and Will Masterson’s questions.

  Jerk.

  She held the steering wheel and touched her forehead to it. It felt cool against her sweaty brow. “I don’t know what you have against journalists—”

  She didn’t even know where to begin in responding to that statement. Emotions, more than memories, flashed through her mind as she stared at him. Dismay, betrayal. How about raw fury? or grief?

  Will Masterson might think he was out to make a living, but he did it at the expense of others’ lives. Happy lives.

  Dannette forced back the taste of sorrow and eased out onto the road. Focus. And not on Will’s hand on her arm or the color of concern in his eyes. Yes, unfortunately, she’d noticed his eyes. Brown flecks ringed with dark blue, and boy, did they pack a punch up close and sorry. She had nearly fallen for the apology in them, nearly wanted to risk trusting him. Thankfully memory broke through the fog like a bullhorn and shook free her common sense.

  If he came near her again, she’d wallop him with more than her Maglite. Her threat echoed in the back of her head, and the barest smile touched her mouth. Yeah, Missy was about as vicious as a lop-eared rabbit. Still, she hoped her warning resonated. Never would be too soon to see Will Masterson again.

  Even if he did look like a modern-day Joe Cartwright off the set of Bonanza, wanting to help her solve her problems.

  Which, at the moment, included one very lost girl. At least, the hunch that the girl was still out there felt right as it sat in the pit of her stomach. She’d found a scrap of fabric tangled in the brush, and Missy had alerted to the scent. Tired and hungry, the girl couldn’t have gone far, even if she was on the run.

  Dannette hoped to talk Sheriff Fadden into at least using Kelly’s dog and doing a semi-call-out. Besides, Kirby needed the practice.

  Pulling up to the sheriff ’s office, Dannette got out and noted that the RV and company hadn’t stuck around. She appreciated the fact that they’d taken the time to even stop in and report the girl, however.

  Of all the rotten luck, Fadden stood in the reception area, as if waiting her return. He looked up from where he was reading over Mary’s shoulder and took a long sip of coffee before addressing Dannette. “Well?”

  Dannette gathered her composure as she pulled out the bag of fabric. This didn’t have to be ugly. She’d been around enough SAR skeptics to understand that change didn’t happen with one success. Or ten. K-9 SAR wasn’t a science. It involved animals who could be cranky, tired, or even hungry and afraid. It involved people who could read signals incorrectly and misjudge terrain and behavior. But if this girl had been gulped by the endless north woods, Dannette and Missy might be her only decent chance of finding a warm bed and grub in the near future.

  “I found a piece of fabric.” Dannette laid the scrap on the counter. She felt Mary’s gaze on her, as if waving her away. She ignored it. “And Missy alerted to human scent. I think the girl’s out there.”

  Fadden pursed his lips, looked at his coffee, then back at Dannette. “Well, as it so happens, we found her.”

  Dannette stared, wide-eyed, her heart thumping. “Really?”

  He nodded, strolled toward her, victory on his face. “Yeah. Someone called in shortly after you left, said they’d lost a young girl, but that they’d found her.” He set the coffee cup down on the counter. “Case closed.”

  “Yeah.” Dannette fingered the bag of fabric. “Did you get their name and number? I’d just like to follow up.”

  Fadden rolled his eyes. “Just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?”

  She wanted to wince at his jaded comment. But she’d been in SAR long enough to know that it was not letting well enough alone that saved lives. She forced an innocent smile. “I guess not. Do you have the number?”

  Fadden turned, picked up a report on Mary’s desk, read the number off.

  Dannette pulled a pen out of her jacket and wrote it on her hand. “Thanks. Can you buzz me in?”

  He didn’t even try to hide his scowl as he let her into the offices.

  She strode down the hall to the coffee room and dialed out.

  Fadden was probably right. She was letting her SAR sixth sense push her into people’s lives.

  Except a disconnect tone played in her ear, along with a computerized voice that informed her that the number was out of service. She checked the number, dialed again.

  “I think she was afraid,” said the old woman again in her head.

  Dannette hung up the phone, feeling shaky. She returned to the reception area. “Mary, what was that number again?”

  Ma
ry handed Dannette the report, and as she read it her chest tightened. “I think this girl is in trouble,” she said softly.

  When Mary raised her gaze, Dannette saw concern in her expression. Whether for Dannette or the lost girl, Dannette didn’t know. “I’ll bet that if Sheriff Fadden sends a cruiser to this address, they’ll find an empty field,” Dannette said as she handed Mary the report. “And the phone number is a dead end.”

  Mary studied the report as Dannette beelined to Fadden’s office. He was on the phone, leaning back in his chair, laughing. His smile dimmed when she knocked on the open door. He covered the phone receiver with his hand. “What?”

  Dannette hesitated only a moment. “It’s a decoy. This girl is out there, and she’s in trouble. The phone number is bogus, and I’ll lay odds the address is also. Was it a man or a woman on the telephone who filed the report?”

  One dark eyebrow angled down. “I’ll call you back,” Fadden said into the telephone and hung up. He buzzed Mary. “Do you remember the gender of the person who filed the missing person’s report?”

  “Male.”

  “Two men pulled up and she ran.” “I’m not feeling good about this, Sheriff,” Dannette said.

  Fadden wore his default exasperated expression. “When do you feel good about anything, Miss Lundeen? Isn’t that your modus operandi—jump to conclusions?”

  He left the other half of his accusation dangling … conclusions that could cost the sheriff ’s department hard-earned cash.

  She tried to ignore his jab. “I just think that we should take this seriously.”

  “Listen, they gave her description. It matches the description from the couple who filed the report. And they said they found her.” He held out his hands as if in surrender. “She’s not missing.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you in the least that we can’t confirm this?”

  He shook his head, dismissal in his eyes. “I think we’re done here.”

  “No!” Dannette winced at the panic in her voice. “Just let me call in Kelly.”

  Fadden’s dark eyes fired, and for a moment she thought she actually saw his skin ripple. She stiffened as he angled his head slightly and drilled her with a look that she could have felt in Kentucky.

  “You might want to keep in mind, Miss Lundeen,” he said, keeping his voice low, “that you are here by invitation. My invitation. And since you’ve arrived, you’ve managed to dig a tidy hole in my SAR budget—”

  “But we needed the scents, the dummies—”

  He held up his hand. “Drop this before we drop you. You are not to go digging around and igniting panic. This is a small town, with small-town resources.” He stood and his rolling chair slammed against the wall.

  Dannette tried not to flinch.

  “We not only have no proof. On the contrary, she’s been found. You go out there, Lundeen, and I guarantee you that I’ll be on the telephone to ARDA, making sure you never work again.”

  She felt her lips move, but no sound came out. Not a snort. Not a nod. Nothing. She felt as if he’d taken her insides and reeled them out, inch by inch.

  Mary didn’t even look up from her computer as Dannette shuffled out into the sunshine, but Dannette saw her shake her head.

  She didn’t care. Dannette hadn’t been in SAR for ten years to ignore the niggling in her gut. That girl was in danger.

  But so were hundreds of children every summer, and if she dumped her credentials for this … ghost victim, well, maybe real victims would die.

  Real victims like Ashley.

  And this was about Ashley. Dannette’s entire life, for that matter, had been about Ashley.

  Only … what would she do if that girl was out there … and she did nothing … and she died?

  Dannette strode out to her truck and paused. Decades-old emotions churned in her chest as she sighed, looked skyward. God, You know where this girl is. Please, please give me wisdom.

  The sun was high and had dried the puddles from yesterday morning’s storm. Dannette blinked as tears filled her eyes. It was times like this, when life felt fragile, that fear seemed to engulf her. It took on breath, filled her soul, and it was only by gazing heavenward that she disentangled herself from its grasp. God was out there, watching, and as long as she told herself that, memories stayed in their dark corners.

  But if this girl showed up in a month as ghastly headline news, those memories might start creeping out into the light of day.

  Don’t forget this girl, Lord. Keep her safe until I find her.

  Chapter 7

  DANNETTE SPREAD THE topo graphical map over the hood of her pickup, trying to delete Sheriff Fadden’s words from her mind. She seemed to be making friends all over town today, what with her right hook to the resident gossipmonger and her outright in-your-face disobedience to the local law. Good thing Missy still liked her.

  The dog scampered around the rest area, playing with a tennis ball. Dannette knew Missy needed playtime before a search, something to separate her from the tension. Even during a search, Dannette brought along a toy, plenty of water, some treats. A dog, like a human, had to decompress from the stress and needed to feel rewarded, despite successes and failures.

  A slight wind ruffled Dannette’s hair, carrying with it the hint of river water, the fresh scent of pine. The sun had begun to slide toward the west end of the day, and shadows reached across the parking lot for her pickup. Even in her layered clothing, Dannette shivered, and she made a mental note to add her down vest to her pack, along with her space blanket, radio, and water supply. Starting a search this late in the day might be the worst possible time, but she didn’t expect to go far and would hike out before darkness trapped her in the bramble of the northern forest.

  She wished Kelly were here. A thousand voices of reason resonated in her skull, the loudest telling her that going into the woods alone broke every SAR rule she tried to uphold. She could get lost, hurt, disoriented; and if she found the girl, and the victim was wounded, Dannette would have to carry her out herself … or return for help and pray she found her again.

  No, a smart K-9 handler, one with years of SAR experience under her belt, would call in reinforcements … like … whom? She scanned through her list of available resources. Nil. Kelly was out of town, working her EMT shift in Duluth and wasn’t due back for three days. And, well … beyond that she had no one left on her list of rescuers aching to face Fadden’s firing squad.

  Dannette smoothed out the map, drew a line to box in the search territory. She’d work in quadrants for now, charting Missy’s responses, and tomorrow when the sun came out, she’d know how to proceed for a free search.

  Unless, of course, there was no one out there, and she was on a wild-goose chase.

  Probably better not to let that thought sink too deep.

  She whistled for Missy, who bounded over. Dannette crouched, rubbed Missy’s muzzle. The dog sniffed her chin as Dannette scratched behind her ears. Her golden brown eyes seemed to search Dannette’s, as if asking if this was wise.

  “What should I do here, Miss? I can’t just leave her out there.” She wrapped her arms around the animal and held her close, smelling the forest in her fur. She felt Missy’s heartbeat in her ears as she contemplated her actions. If she did nothing, the girl could die. At worst, the girl was safe and Dannette would spend hours beating the forest for nothing.

  Fadden didn’t have to know how she spent her time off, right?

  At any rate, bushwhacking through a shadowy forest, underneath towering pines and paperwhite birches, was better than sitting in her dark motel room, channel surfing and wondering if Will Masterson was slurping down hot coffee or eating chili at Nancy’s.

  Now where did that thought come from? She stood up and shook away Will’s amazingly stunned, even hurt, expression when she’d broadsided him with the flashlight. Folding the map, she pocketed it. Just because she’d met a man who had gotten under her skin with his intriguingly pretty eyes didn’t mean she was spending
the next five hours parting bushes and ducking tree branches in an effort to exorcise him from her mind.

  No, this was about a lost girl.

  About a pledge made years ago.

  This was about Ashley.

  Dannette pulled on her orange SAR vest, grabbed her water bottle, her compass, a flashlight, and her supply pack. As she was clipping on Missy’s vest and tracking collar, her cell phone trilled. She answered it, turning to catch a decent signal.

  “Dannette?” Sarah’s voice came through crackly. “Where are you?”

  “Where are you?” Dannette heard the immediate cheer in her voice.

  “I’m at your motel. But you’re not.”

  “You’re here? When did you get in?”

  “About an hour ago. Where are you?”

  Dannette poured water for Missy. “I’m sniffing around for a lost girl at a rest area out of town.” Even to her ears, it sounded stupid. She should listen to reason, pack up, and head into town for a pizza.

  “A lost girl?” Sarah’s voice sounded pinched. “How old?”

  Dannette kicked herself. Sarah’s scars had nothing to do with this lost girl, but the mere mention of a woman in trouble was enough to ignite Sarah’s protective impulses.

  “I don’t know. Teenager maybe.”

  “Was there a call-out?”

  Dannette cringed. “No. Just a hunch.”

  Sarah was silent, and Dannette heard a car door slam. “Okay, tell me how to get there.”

  “What? No, I’ll only be a little while. You’ve had a long drive. I got you a room—check in at the front desk and I’ll see you in the morning.” Dannette heard the car engine rev.

  “Sorry, Dan, but I’m coming your way. I didn’t drive eighteen hours to hang out in my motel room. Besides, we were going to go camping anyway; this will jump-start our trip.”

  “Really, Sarah, I’m just taking a look around.”

  “Tell me this—are you alone?

  “I … ah …”

  “Then you wouldn’t even be out there if you didn’t believe she was in trouble.”