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GENTRY PARK HADN’T changed other than a bit more snow since September’s earlier visit. She twisted in her seat to reach Shadow’s stuffed bear in the back seat and winced. It’s only bruised ribs. It could have been worse.
To keep her hands free she stuffed the bear inside her parka and zipped up the coat. She found Steven’s dirty socks, still inside a baggy, deep in one massive pocket. The smelly bear and scented socks were the best bet to find Steven.
She braced herself for the temperature change. Lordy, she hated the cold. She unlocked the door, hyper-vigilant to any suspicious movement. Her blood drummed in her ears when she stepped outside into the open, unprotected, but at least the street, the park—hell, the whole world—was deserted. The street lights reflected in the snow shined like moonlight, so bright she’d see any interlopers in plenty of time to retreat to the car.
Snow fell thick as fog. No trace remained of her earlier search of the park. September entered the fenced area and waved at Pam.
The rail-thin woman emerged from her Jeep. She wore high black Wellingtons, leather gloves, a tan, down-filled jacket, watch cap, and hood drawn over the top of her head. A fuzzy scarf, blue as a bruise, peeked out from the collar. Warm, sensible, a fieldwork outfit Pam wore like a second skin.
September motioned to the gated entrance on the wooded side of the field closest to April’s house. That’s where they should begin. Pam saluted her understanding, and unloaded the sable shepherd from the back of her vehicle.
The old dog jigged for a moment at the sight of the harness, and stood patiently until hooked up. Old dog senses faded with years, just like people senses, but nobody knew how much scent discrimination diminished with age. Even a fraction of Bruno’s youthful abilities could bring Steven home. Tracking dogs didn’t need the light.
They had to find Steven, just had to. Once he was safe, September could concentrate on freeing April from Lizzie’s control.
She trudged around the perimeter of the fence to meet Pam. September didn’t want to confuse Bruno with more of her own tracks. She’d already muddied the trail.
“I owe you big time.” September smiled at Pam, offering Bruno a gloved hand to sniff. The dog waved his amber tail.
Pam scowled when she saw September’s face. “You run into a brick wall? C’mon, honey. Has something to do with all the cop cars around your sister’s house, I bet. Surely they didn’t call out the troops to find a lost kid. So spill.”
September wavered. It would be such a relief to share the burden with somebody else, especially a disaster-savvy individual like Pam. Lizzie hadn’t said anything about telling other people, only the police. And she’d already enlisted Fish. But Pam might call the police, and get sideways of Lizzie. September shook her head. Couldn’t risk it, not when she’d already got Wilma shot by misjudging Lizzie.
“I heard your radio show today, September. Was that really your sister or was it Fish’s idea of a publicity stunt. Or is it something else?”
September flinched. Breathing hurt, her face stung, and she couldn’t feel her hands or feet despite the extra-thick socks and insulated gloves. But her heart hurt worst of all. “Yes, it’s more involved than I let on.”
“I knew it.” Pam punched one gloved hand into the palm of the other, clearly upset. Bruno woofed, gazing with concern back and forth between the pair. “It’s Steven, right?” She cocked her head and sucked in her breath. “Something more? Is April in trouble?”
“Here’s the deal, Pam.” September remained leery of saying too much. “Steven’s missing, and we think Shadow is with him. Other stuff happened after they disappeared, and the police are sorting that out.” She weighed her words. “We don’t need to distract the police from their job, especially when you and Bruno have a better chance of finding Steven. Finding him, that’s the most important thing.”
“No wonder you’re frazzled.” Pam pulled her into a warm hug. “April must be going crazy. You’re a good sister.”
September froze for a moment, and then fiercely returned the embrace. She fought tears, the unexpected sympathy making her want to unburden herself completely. It would be such a relief to share her fear, ask for advice, and get some encouragement that she’d made the right choices. She pulled away, and opened her mouth—
“You’ll tell me the whole story at some point?” The older woman absently stroked Bruno’s gray muzzle.
The moment passed. She had to keep it light. “Sure, Pam. I promise. I’ll give you a blow-by-blow over steaks the size of toilet seats. And a good bottle of merlot.” Pam would be safer, and even April would be protected by keeping Pam in the dark. September checked her watch. It had been less than five minutes since she’d arrived, but every second that ticked by brought her nearer the 24-hour deadline.
“Make it prime rib.” Pam turned to the dog. “Sitz. Bleib.” The dog planted his furry rear and waited. His tail scythed a half-moon in the snow that was already halfway to his chest.
September pulled out the baggy with Steven’s socks. “I’ve got Shadow’s toy bear, too.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Bruno finds people, not animals. Keep it simple or we’ll confuse him. He hasn’t done this in a while.” She seized the baggy from September, opened it, and presented it to the dog.
Bruno stuck his snout inside. He snuffled repeatedly, inhaling the telltale scent signature that spelled “Steven” in his canine brain. Pam looked up. “You stay here, and give me a twenty-foot lead before you follow.”
September nodded. “I think Steven entered there.” She pointed. “He played on the swings like always and went out the other side exit.” She swung her arm toward her car parked in the middle of the street. She hadn’t wanted to risk getting stuck by parking where the drifts grew deepest. And she wanted the car to have easy access to a quick getaway. Just in case.
Pam concentrated on her dog. Bruno sniffed and finally pulled away from the baggy and huffed, signaling his readiness. “Bruno, such.”
The “find” command triggered the dog into a low slouching posture. He shoveled snow from time to time to get a better scent. Bruno trotted through the open gate for five or six feet, nose skimming the snow, and paced first to the left and back toward the right. He cast a semicircle ahead of Pam to match the scent to the socks.
September held her breath, and let it out when Bruno made a beeline toward the swing set near the middle of the park. Steam puffed from his mouth. Pam’s blue scarf covered the lower half of her face as she allowed the big dog to pull her in his wake by the long line attached to his harness.
Bruno spent several minutes around the playground equipment, paying particular attention to an area beneath one swing. September heard Pam repeat the “such-find” command, and the German shepherd cast back and forth on the far side of the jungle gym. Once he moved in a purposeful stride toward the far gate, September followed.
Bruno’s nose assured them Steven had left the park. He drove through the open gate, trotting without hesitation, and September hoped he would lead them to a nearby house, where they’d find Steven sipping hot chocolate with kind neighbors.
But less than five minutes later, the dog stopped at a street corner. Hesitating, he returned to an indentation in the snow a short distance away, pacing a tight circle and then a larger one. Bruno whined. He shuffled into the intersection, poked and sniffed deep into the snow, and finally returned to the sign to lie down.
Pam waited until September caught up. “End of the line, September.” She pulled a ball looped with rope out of her pocket, praised the dog, and tossed him the toy. He caught it with ease, and teased for a game of fetch, his reward for a job well done.
“You’re sure?” September couldn’t hide her disappointment.
Pam played tug with the eager shepherd. “Bruno’s nose doesn’t lie, does it, boy?” Her expression of pleasure at the old dog’s success faded when she recognized September’s desperation. “Sorry. Maybe somebody picked him up?” Bruno mock-growled, tail wagging happily as he pulled against the rope toy.
“Maybe a ride, sure. But who? Steven wouldn’t climb into just any car. April has to jump through hoops to get him places. That’s why she bought that atrocious banana-yellow Cruiser.” September noticed the sign, cocked her head a moment, and stood on tiptoe to brush the white away, revealing hidden letters. She winced when her bruised muscles protested, but the effort paid off.
HART-Line Bus Stop.
“He got on the bus?” Pam wiped snow off the bridge of Bruno’s muzzle.
“They’re yellow. Or sort of a mustard color anyway, that could be close enough for Steven.” That was better than Steven stuck in a snow drift.
“Makes sense.” Pam tugged the dog toy, and then let Bruno keep it. “Fuss,” she said, and he trotted in a heel position by her side back to the park. “Steven must have hunkered down in the snow for a while. Maybe he waited for the bus there.”
September followed Pam. “I came within sight of that spot, I should have kept going a little further.” Instead, she’d returned to April’s house to be bushwhacked by crazy Lizzie. “I didn’t know those dumpy HART-Line buses came this far into the suburbs. Steven loves routine. A yellow bus is the next best thing to his mom’s yellow car.”
“So call the dispatcher, and have them contact the drivers. They’d remember a little boy.”
“Maybe not if he was alone. But Shadow with him makes him memorable.” Excited, September unzipped her coat and pulled out the toy bear. “Before we go back, you’ve got to check and see if they’re still together.”
Pam considered the toy dubiously. “I told you, Bruno’s not trained for—”
“Let him try. At this point any info could be helpful.”
With a sigh, Pam stopped. “Okay, okay, but it could also confuse things.” She turned to Bruno. “Platz. Aus.” The dog belly flopped into the white, dropped the ball into her open palm, and Pam stuffed the toy back into her pocket. September handed her the bear.
Bruno sniffed the toy and tried to take it. Pam pulled it out of reach, moved away, and came back. She said, “Such,” and offered it to him once more. He reached out tentatively, sniffed, and leaped to his feet, grabbing the bear to shake it. Bruno danced away with the toy.
Pam turned up her palms in a helpless gesture. “He thinks we’re playing. I’m sorry, September, he’s not any help.”
“Crap. Thanks anyway.” September yawned.
Pam offered the ball-tug toy once more. “Bring.” After one final spine-shattering shake that certainly killed the stuffed bear, Bruno dropped the soggy toy at Pam’s feet and eagerly reclaimed his rope-ball.
“Call the bus company.” Pam returned the bear and jogged back toward the park as September struggled to keep up. “If the driver doesn’t remember Steven or a dog, find out the locations of different stops on this route. We can take Bruno around to each one.”
“Great idea.” September thought her ribs might poke through her flesh with every bone-jarring jog, but she grit her teeth and kept pace with Pam. “I don’t know if Steven would get off at a strange stop. But that’s a good next step to check.” She dug her phone out of her pocket and frowned. “It’s nearly dead.”
“My cell’s in the Jeep. You can use that. Charger’s there, too.” Pam handed September her keys. “Phone’s in the center caddy between the front seats and the charger’s hooked into the front console. You can take that with you if you like. I’ve another at home.”
September struggled for a response. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Go. I’ve seen you checking your watch, and I know time’s wasting.” The woman smiled gently. “I haven’t known you long, but I recognize you. You’re the one who pulls strangers out of fires.” She paused. “It’s what you do, it’s who you are. It’s who we are.” She held her palm up to stop any protest. “You’d do it for me, and don’t dare deny it. Like recognizes like.”
September palmed tears away before they froze. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Go on. I’ll be along in a minute. I owe Bruno at least a ten-minute playtime for his good work.”
The dog trembled with anticipation but stood steady as Pam removed his halter and unhooked the long-line leash. His tail lashed at the mention of “playtime.” When she lobbed the toy high in the air, Bruno launched himself like a furry rocket. Pam’s expression glowed when the fetch-game turned back the clock for the old dog.
September wished she could turn back the clock, too, to a more innocent time. Before stalkers, before lost dreams and lost loves, and little boys lost. She hurried to Pam’s Jeep, climbed inside, and made sure the doors were locked. With the engine rumbling, she switched the blower to high, eager for warmth and breathed with relief for the first time after hours of stress. She was safe. She finally had a plan. Steven would be found.
She didn’t notice the black Hummer that approached from the far side of Gentry Park and stopped in the middle of the road directly beside her Volvo.
