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The hail switched off as the heavens called a temporary truce, but Combs didn't move. He hunkered on the floor of Doc Eugene's storage closet, knees drawn up and face pillowed in his arms. The pain and denial grew, not wanting to believe September's message. Willie, his bright, exuberant son, so young, strong, and happy...no. He wouldn't let his imagination go there.
Damn the dog. Damn the storm. And double-damn September for failing Willie.
Lights flickered back to life, but Combs kept his head down. He heard the others labor to their feet, and surreptitiously scrubbed tears from his cheeks before taking three or four gulping breaths and lifting his head.
"Let's see the damage." Doc Eugene opened the door and exited the tiny room, closely followed by Robin. "We're still standing." He disappeared into the front of the vet clinic, his footsteps sneaker soft as he canvased the building. Robin trailed him.
Gonzales held out a hand to help Combs up. "You look like hell. Storm's over. For now, anyway."
Combs jerked away, and stalked out of the room. His throat ached. "Over for us. Willie's still out there." He couldn't tell Gonzales about September's call. To say it out loud made it real. Magical thinking, sure, but he didn't care.
"What did September say? She didn't find him?" Gonzales took out his phone, checked it and grimaced. "Still no bars."
He turned away, and grudgingly spoke. "The message broke up. Wasn't clear." Combs clung to that thin thread and the hope that September wouldn't relegate such news to a voice mail.
Doc Eugene came back into the room. "Lots of limbs blew down, some power lines, too. Robin's car looks like someone worked it over with a baseball bat. Don’t know if yours will start or not. But my SUV has barely a scratch, except a honey locust branch scratched one side." He sniffed. "Bizarre weather keeps getting more and more strange." He saw Combs checking his phone. "The office landline is dead, too."
"I'll check the car." Gonzales turned to Combs. "Better touch base with Doty on the radio, find out the state of the county. I don’t care if the car's a lumpy-bumpy mess, if it runs." He squeezed Combs's arm. "I got kids, too. We'll find him." He hurried out the door.
Doc Eugene raised his eyebrows.
Combs answered. "Willie's out in the storm."
"For heaven's sake, why would he do that?" Doc Eugene held out a palm in a placating gesture. "Forget I said that. He's a kid. Doesn't need a reason."
"He went after his dog. September's tracking with Shadow, but I can't reach her." Combs shrugged. "Her last message mentioned Willie, but was garbled."
Gonzales returned. "Car's got two flats. I reached Doty, though. Cell towers are down all over North Texas, and flooding disrupted cable between those still standing." He held up his mobile phone. "Meet my high-dollar paperweight." He pocketed the device. "Told Doty about your boy and she promised to get a team out ASAP. But she said lots of people need help." He cleared his throat. "Headquarters got a tip about the dogfight ring. They're set to go. Tonight, in a couple hours. She tapped us to follow up."
"My son's out there. She expects us to check some half ass tip when Willie's missing?" Combs barked a humorless laugh. "She can go screw herself."
"Is the Internet still up?" Doc Eugene hurried to the reception area and booted the computer. "I shut it down during the storm, it'll be a minute."
"The 'net probably is hit or miss, depending on your provider." Gonzales took a step toward Combs’s angry pacing. "About that tip. Doty said every account in the department got an email from some hacker calling himself Kid Kewl that detailed the time and location. Some old barn off of FM 691."
Combs wanted to punch something. Punch someone. Doty's face would do.
Gonzales gnawed his mustache, and hesitated. "Isn't that the area September headed?"
He nodded. "But nothing's happening tonight. No dogfight, no drug deals. Doty's bust won't happen, none of the players will be out in this weather." Combs spoke with forced politeness. "Do what you need to do, Gonzales, but right now I could care less about Doty or my job. I'm going after Willie."
Doc Eugene interrupted. "If the Internet works, you can track Shadow by his GPS collar. I know he wears one. You said September mentioned Willie by name, and Shadow never leaves her side. Find Shadow, you’ll find Willie."
Combs remembered the GPS system they’d used before. "She's got her house defined as the home territory. When September’s pets wander beyond that designated area, her email gets an alert."
It worked similar to Amber Alert tracking systems used to keep kids safe, something Combs wished he'd got for Willie. Parents could get updates sent to a computer or smart phone about the child's location every minute or so and track movements 24/7, even define new areas for after school events or vacation destinations. For pets, the bare bones design used a combination of cell phone towers and GPS to track movement. It worked with a handheld reader.
Gonzales sounded hopeful. "We can give the barn a once over and work the GPS angle at the same time. Doty won't have to know."
Combs moved closer to the computer. "The hand held device has a two-mile range. A desktop won't cut it. We'd need a laptop or tablet with mobile hot spot. Last time our friend Theodore Williams, the geriatric hacker, set that up but since his wife died, he's not been around much."
The computer started up and Doc Eugene launched the browser. The icon spun forever, but nothing came up. "You're right, that's not going to work." He stuck his hand in his pocket, and plucked out his car keys. "But I remember the way to Teddy's house. Let's go."
