“Are you ready, Jax?”
He snuffed his agreement, tail wagging his excitement.
“Go find!”
*
At the search command, Jax was off, into the woods and out of sight.
Laney took off after him, Grayson and Reese two steps behind.
The trees offered plenty of shade from the early October sun, but the Maryland humidity was heavy, and it was tough navigating through the dense, thorny underbrush. They’d walked less than three minutes before coming upon the stream that served as a natural border for their sector. Jax was relentless in his work, making large circles around handler and flankers, nose to the air as they moved quickly forward, Laney leading them on with quiet confidence. Grayson was amazed at the speed at which they were covering ground.
But he was still worried that they weren’t moving fast enough.
The kidnapper was on the run. It had been nearly forty minutes; if he was not already out of the woods, he was nearing the road, slowed only by what must feel like the growing weight of a child. After all, seventy pounds of dead weight would be challenging for anyone to cart through brush and over uneven ground as the heat and humidity of the day settled in the woods. Surely he would have to stop and rest.
Of course, if he had a weapon, he’d likely be forcing the child to walk through the woods himself, but then they’d have to go at the pace of a frightened ten-year-old.
Laney put her hand up. “Wait.”
Grayson and Reese stopped dead in their tracks.
Laney’s complete focus was on Jax.
“What is it?” Grayson asked
“He’s caught scent. It’s faint—I can tell he can’t pinpoint the origin.” Laney pulled her GPS from the large pocket of her cargo pants, “I’m marking the spot where Jax first showed interest.” She released white powder from her puff bottle into the air. “The wind is pushing the scent across the creek. It’s hitting the side of this hill and circling up. Scent forms a cone of sorts, stronger near the person and weakening as it gets further away, but sometimes the air movement can push it into a barrier where it gets trapped, leaving a heavy scent pool with no subject. This is when the handler has to read the dog and use whatever scent theory they know, and try to work out where the subject might actually be.”
“What are you thinking?” Grayson asked. Could the kidnapper be somewhere close by, hiding until they passed?
“I think he’s either picked up the kidnapper and victim, or he’s picked up the scent of another dog team working the other side of the stream.” Reaching for her radio, she called base.
“Go ahead, team one.”
“Permission to go direct with team two.”
“Team one, you have the frequency.”
“Team two from team one.”
“Go ahead, team one.”
“Jax is picking up scent on the border of my sector. It’s faint. Judging by the air current, my best guess is it’s coming from across the stream in your sector. Are you working the vicinity?”
“Negative, team one. We’re at the west end of our sector, near the lake.”
“Copy. To be sure he’s not picking up our victim or the perp, I’m going to cross the stream to see if the scent pool is stronger. I’ll probably go about fifty meters in. If he picks up scent, I’ll follow. If not, I’ll return to my sector. I’ll let you know when I’ve left the area.”
“Copy, team one.”
Holstering her radio, she backtracked about fifteen paces, checking the wind, then headed to the stream.
“Jax, this way.” Looking over her shoulder, she gestured to Grayson and Reese. “Guys, stay close. Keep your eyes and ears open. My gut is telling me someone is across the stream, just upwind of us. Could be a random hiker, but one thing is certain. It’s not a member of the search team.”
Grayson and Reese followed single file behind Laney and Jax as they crossed the ankle-deep stream. The water, somewhat cloudy after the rain, moved swiftly over slippery rocks and a muddy stream bed.
Jax paused, lapping up some of the cool water. Bending down, Laney splashed the water under his belly. “Okay, this way Jax, go find!”
Jax paused, his head popped up in interest, nose to the wind, and he was off. Laney went after him, keeping up a fast jog over uneven ground, dodging tree branches and ripping away from thorny brush that reached out to grab her as she passed. Unencumbered by a pack, Grayson stayed on her heels. Reese fell back slightly, Laney’s pace combined with the weight of his pack proving too much for him.
For a moment they lost sight of Jax. Laney stopped abruptly, motioning for them to do the same. The distant sound of the dog jumping quickly through the brush was met with another sound.
Something large was moving in the same general direction.
All at once, the second movement stopped, and the distinct sound of the dog running toward them grew closer.
Standing stock-still, Laney waited. Seconds later, Jax bounded into view, tongue lolling, ears back, at a full sprint. Launching himself in the air, straight at Laney, his front paws hit her in the torso before he landed in front of her, tail wagging.
“Show me!” Laney commanded, and Jax quickly started off again.
All three raced after Jax, crashing through the vegetation, jumping over downed branches. But there was no way they could keep up with the agile little Australian shepherd. It seemed to Grayson that Jax was well aware of this. He constantly circled back, ensuring Laney was right behind him.
Bursting through thick underbrush into a clearing, Jax stopped, then began circling the area—nose to the wind, taking in short quick snuffs of air.
“Grayson.” Laney’s voice was hushed. “The subject was here, but has moved. He’s likely hiding. Jax is trained for this scenario—we sometimes see it with lost children and Alzheimer’s patients. They are found by the dog and then move before we can get to them.”
Fascinated, Grayson watched Jax work. The dog sniffed the ground, the trees, the air, looking for the scent. Even untrained, Grayson could tell when he found it. His head popped up again and his tail fanned out. In a flash, he was off. They followed him through a particularly thick stand of trees and brush and watched as he approached a large downed tree, its exposed roots jutting out, nearly four feet high in places.
A perfect hiding place.
Scampering up the downed trees limbs, Jax was quickly up and over the obstacle. Laney seemed poised to follow, but Grayson grabbed her arm, jerking her back toward him. He was about to have her call Jax back when a shot rang out.
*
Was Jax shot? Was he hurt, confused? Looking for her?
She had to get to him. Laney tried to shrug free of Grayson’s grip, but he held tight as he ordered Reese to drop his pack.
Movement in the brush to their left had Grayson pushing Laney to the side, drawing his weapon. Bursting through the brush, Jax rushed forward, intent on indicating the re-find.
She hated to do it, but for his own safety, she gave the emergency stop command using the hand signal and whispering, “Halt.”
His stop was immediate. He dropped to the ground in a down position.
Tapping her chest twice, her silent recall signal, she motioned Jax to her.
Once Jax was by her side, the reality of the situation hit her hard. There was someone on the other side of the log, and he was armed.
Reese had dropped his pack and unholstered his weapon. Grayson drew them in a close circle, whispering, “Laney, mark our coordinates on your GPS, then take Jax back through the stand of trees. Move quickly and make noise as you go. When you reach the stream, take cover and call base for backup. Reese, you circle around the fallen tree as quietly as you can from the left. I’ll take the right. Don’t be seen. Try to get in a position where you can see the shooter—when Laney is out of earshot, he may make a run for it. Be ready.”
Reese nodded.
Laney turned to go, but Grayson grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “Don’t come b
ack until I call you.”
She nodded her understanding, but he didn’t let her go. His gaze was dark, his ocean-blue eyes filled with concern.
He cupped her cheek, his fingers rough and a little cool. “Be careful, okay?”
She swallowed down words that she knew she shouldn’t say, words about friendship, about connection, about wanting to know that this wouldn’t be the last time she’d ever see him.
“You, too,” she whispered to his back as he quietly headed for the downed tree.
She headed in the opposite direction, crashing through the underbrush.
“Jax, come!” she yelled, and the dog followed.
She reached the other side of the trees, took cover behind a giant oak and called for backup, providing the coordinates to base. Her voice shaking, she made sure the other dog teams understood they should stand down and stay away from the sector.
“Laney?” Kent’s voice came over the radio.
“Go ahead, Kent.”
“We have four officers stationed on the road in your vicinity—we’re sending them in now. Stay where you are until they get to you.”
They arrived quickly, slipping through the woods almost silently. Only Jax’s soft huff of anxiety warned her before they appeared.
“Where’s the perp?” a tall, dark-eyed man asked. She was sure she’d seen him before, had probably worked with him at some point.
“Follow me, and be as quiet as possible.” Laney led the officers around the thickest part of the brush in an attempt to keep down the noise. They followed her one by one, in silence. She stopped, the fallen tree fifty feet in front of their location, roots snaking out four feet in every direction, ensnared with thick underbrush. Turning to them, she whispered, “The suspect is holed up behind that downed tree.” She pointed. “Agent DeMarco went to the right, Officer Reese to the left. They intended to get a visual of the suspect and wait for backup.”
“Okay. We’ve got it from here. I want you to take cover behind that stand of trees, then radio base that we are here and in position.”
Laney nodded. Then the officer in charge turned to his guys. “Radio silence from this point on.” Several of the officers turned their handheld radios off.
Laney crept to the stand of trees, finding a hiding place under a particularly thick bush. Then she called base, confirming the team’s position. Motioning Jax to sit by her, she absently petted his head while she waited for something to happen. Anything.
Suddenly a voice broke the silence. Grayson’s voice.
“This is the FBI. You’re surrounded. Throw out your weapon and release the child.”
“I’ll kill the kid if you come any closer.”
“Not before we kill you, so how about you make it easy on yourself? Send the boy out!” Grayson’s last statement was met by a warning shot from the suspect.
It was then that Laney noticed the brush moving near the bottom of the fallen tree, where thick weeds and saplings were growing up around it. Could there be another way for the suspect to get out? If so, Grayson and the other officers were not in a position to see the suspect escape. Seconds later, a blond head popped out.
A child’s tear-streaked face appeared as the boy pushed through the thick brush. Giving Jax the signal to stay, she grabbed her Leatherman out of her pack and opened it. She eased across the space that separated her from the tree and saw the boy’s eyes widening with surprise as he spotted her. Holding a finger to her lips, she signaled him to stay quiet as he came out of the opening under the tree and stood. An adult’s tanned hand was visible through the brush, grasping the boy’s ankle. Laney readied herself, watching the brush move, the leaves rustle.
Was she the only one who noticed the movement?
Suddenly, the kidnapper’s head and other hand pushed through the opening. That hand grasped a gun. He never released his hold in the boy’s ankle as he snaked through the brush. The child stood still, blue eyes wide with fright, trained on her. Laney didn’t intend to let the kidnapper make it out from under the tree. She took two steps closer and stomped with all her might on his hand.
He cursed, the gun dropping from his slack hand.
She kicked it away and grabbed the boy’s arm, yanking him from the kidnapper.
“Run!” she screamed.
EIGHTEEN
Hoisting himself quickly to the top of the downed tree, Grayson could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Hadn’t he told her to stay by the creek? To wait in safety until he called her? She hadn’t, and she was about to be taken down by a guy who looked like he’d gladly drag the knife from her hand and use it to slit her throat.
Grayson scrambled over the tree and tackled the guy as he lunged for Laney and the boy.
They all went down in a heap, tangled in weeds and thorny brush.
The guy was big. Maybe six-foot-four, muscular.
And angry.
He pushed himself to his knees and threw a punch; Grayson dodged it, the man’s knuckles barely grazing his jaw. Grayson managed to land a well-placed blow to the man’s cheek. The guy fell backward, knocking into Laney as she scrambled to her feet, grabbing the boy under the arm to drag him from the fray.
She stumbled. Falling to her knees, she shoved the boy out of reach. The kidnapper’s arm shot out and grabbed Laney’s calf. She tried unsuccessfully to kick him off while Grayson punched the guy in the back.
The man cursed but didn’t relinquish his hold on Laney. He yanked her toward him across the brush like a rag doll. Grayson heard Laney gasp. Her chest hit the ground first, knocking the wind out of her.
Grayson landed a quick blow to the perp’s head, and then another. Other than a faint grunt, there was no acknowledgment that the hits had any effect on the guy. Behind Grayson, the other officers were crashing through the brush to help.
The man relentlessly dragged Laney toward him, ignoring the kicks from her free leg.
Grabbing the guy in a choke hold, Grayson yanked him backward. Still he refused to release Laney.
Laney looked up, meeting Grayson’s gaze over the perp’s shoulders. He recognized the anger and determination he saw there. Without warning, she sliced her pocketknife across the guy’s hand. With a howl, he let go of her leg.
She scrambled away and rushed to the boy, who stood watching wide-eyed by a tree. Grayson tightened his grip around the guy’s neck. Reese nudged in beside Grayson, taking cuffs from his belt. He snapped them onto the suspect’s wrists and pulled him to his feet.
“Hey! That crazy chick cut my hand! I need a medic!” the perp howled.
“You’ll get one.” Eventually, Grayson thought, but he didn’t say it.
He was too busy striding to Laney’s side, taking the knife from her hand. “Are you nuts?” he nearly shouted. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”
“What was I supposed to do?” she asked, touching the hair of the little boy who was clinging to her waist, his head buried against her abdomen. “Let the guy escape with Carson?”
“What you were supposed to do was stay away,” he reminded her. “Until I told you differently.”
“If she had,” the boy said, shooting Grayson a dark look, “she couldn’t have rescued me.”
“I didn’t rescue you. Jax did,” Laney said. “Want to meet him?”
“Who’s Jax?” Carson asked.
“I’ll show you. Jax, come,” Laney called, and the dog bounded out from the underbrush.
“He’s so cool!” Carson dropped to his knees to pet Jax, his face suddenly animated. “When we saw the dog the first time, that guy made me hide under that tree with him so the dog wouldn’t know where we went. He said I had to stay quiet or he’d kill me.”
Grayson kneeled on the ground next to Carson. “So you did what he said, right?”
Nodding, Carson hugged Jax. “I was afraid of him. He was mean. He tried to shoot the dog, but I hit his arm so he would miss.”
Laney went to her knees too, enveloping the boy and dog in a big bear
hug. “Thank you for saving Jax.”
“I knew Jax was good. We learned about search dogs in Boy Scouts. I knew he would bring me help, and he did.”
“Yep, he did his job well. Now he gets his reward. Do you want to help me give it to him?” Laney asked.
“Sure, what is it?”
She pulled out two orange balls, squeaking them.
Jax turned toward the sound, ready to run.
“He gets playtime with his favorite toy for a job well done.”
She chucked the ball as far as she could, and they both laughed as Jax rushed forward, jumping up and snatching it out of the air before it hit the ground.
Squeaking it in his mouth, the dog returned, dropping the ball at her feet as she launched the next one in the air.
“Grab that ball, Carson, and throw it as soon as he brings the other back—let’s see who gets tired first, him or us!”
Grayson was betting on the two of them, since the ball of energy that was Jax showed no sign of stopping anytime soon.
Watching the woman who would likely never fail to surprise him, laughing and playing with the dog and the boy in the midst of what should have been a very traumatic day for all, Grayson realized Laney’s affinity for dogs translated to children as well. Her fearless confidence and her empathy for the helpless attracted both to her. And right now, with this boy, she was managing to single-handedly end his bad day on a good note.
Although there were many people who had worked together to find and rescue Carson, Laney and her hero dog Jax would stay with the boy always. As he grew older and recounted this story, Laney would always be in it. His own fearless protector.
Funny. Grayson’s story about the day would be the same.
Empty of the million little details that had made the rescue successful, and filled with hundreds of images of a woman he knew he would never forget.
*
Noon, and Laney was exhausted.
She should probably get up from the porch rocker and go inside, but she was too tired to move. Grayson and Kent were a few feet away, talking to the two FBI agents assigned to her protection detail for the next few days. The sun had grown warmer, but dark clouds rolled in on a humid breeze, threatening rain.
Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 Page 56