Scent of Panic (Sullivan K9 Search and Rescue #2)

Chapter 1

1

W ynona Blackhorse headed up to the front door of her neighbor’s home. Her job working as an accountant for the tribal Council for the Shoshone Wind River Reservation didn’t end until four thirty, and her four-and-a-half-year-old son, Eli, rode home from school with his 4-K kindergarten teacher, Shana Wildbloom, during the weekdays.

She knocked on the front door, then tried the door handle. Normally, Shana left it open for her, knowing she’d be there to pick up Eli.

The door was locked. She frowned, wondering what had caused Shana to do such a thing. A fission of concern snaked down her spine. She listened intently for a moment but heard nothing. She knocked again, harder.

No answer. The clouds overhead made the temperature feel cooler than usual, even though it was a balmy thirty-two degrees. She didn’t see any lights on inside either. When there was still no response to her third pounding, she moved to the window to press her face against the glass.

She gasped when she saw Shana lying on the floor, blood staining her temple.

“Shana! Eli!” She slammed her hands against the glass so hard she was surprised it didn’t break. Then she ran around to the next window, hoping to see Eli. But every room she could see into appeared empty.

Raw panic clawed up her throat, sending her pulse into triple digits. She ran all the way around to the back door, nearly sobbing in relief when she realized that one wasn’t locked. Bolting inside, she knelt beside Shana.

“Shana! Wake up!” She shook the young woman’s shoulder. “It’s Wyn. What happened? Where’s Eli?”

“Wyn?” Shana’s eyelids fluttered open, and she stared up at her in confusion. “Who hit me?”

“I don’t know. I just arrived here to pick up Eli. What happened? Where’s my son?” Sliding her arm behind Shana’s shoulders, she helped her sit up.

“I—don’t know. The man wore a face mask.” Shana put her hand to her temple, grimacing at the blood. “I was playing with Eli when he entered the house and struck me.”

Wyn noticed the building blocks scattered across the floor and could imagine the young preschool teacher playing with Eli. She rose on shaky legs and began searching the home in earnest. Maybe Eli had been frightened by the intruder and had run away to hide. But even as she looked inside closets, under the beds, and behind doors, she knew the masked man had taken her son.

She quickly returned to the living room. “Did you see what kind of car he was driving?” Remaining calm wasn’t easy, but she needed all the information from Shana that she could get. “Can you remember anything else about him?”

“He was tall and lean with dark-brown eyes.” Shana closed her eyes for a moment. “Maybe a white pickup truck? I noticed one parked a few houses down the road but didn’t think anything of it as we passed by.”

The description wasn’t very helpful, but she didn’t take her anger and frustration out on her friend. Instead, she pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled to a number she hadn’t called in over five years. She had to unblock the number first. Then she drew a steadying breath and made the call. Willing her panic at bay, she waited for him to answer.

“Wynona?” The shocked surprise in Chase Sullivan’s tone sent a warring chill washing over her. He was the last man she should call.

He was also the only man who could find her son.

Their son.

“Chase, I need help. My son is missing, and I need your K9 search and rescue expertise to search for him.”

“Your son?” Again, there was no mistaking the shocked surprise. “I—didn’t realize you were married.”

“I’m not. I don’t have time to discuss the details now, but I need you. I need you to head to the rez and help me find Elijah.” After a pause, she added, “Please. A masked man took him from his babysitter. I’m in desperate need of your help.”

“I’ll be there as quickly as I can. In the meantime, I need you to gather several of your son’s recently worn clothing together for my K9, Rocky, to use as a scent source. Have you called the tribal police?”

“Not yet.” Their tribal police department was small and covered the entire reservation. She wasn’t at all confident in their ability to find Eli.

“Make the call,” Chase advised. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.” His reassuring tone didn’t make her feel any better. She had never been to his ranch but had heard about it. She knew the ranch was located a good two hours from her current location. “Where are you?”

“Riverton.” She gave him the location, they didn’t use typical addresses on the rez, and her throat thickened with fear and worry. “Please hurry.”

“I’ll do my best. Call me if anything changes.”

“I will.” She gripped the phone tightly, trying not to imagine her son being injured or dead, and added, “Thank you.”

“See you soon.” Chase ended the call.

She didn’t wear the cross necklace Chase had given her over six years ago, but she lifted her eyes to the overcast sky, desperately seeking the Lord’s support and guidance. She lowered the phone and turned to see Shana sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, holding her head in her hands.

“I don’t understand. Who could have done this?” Shana’s voice was barely a whisper. “I know there’s plenty of crime on the rez, but usually not something like this.”

“I’ll get you some ice.” Battling a wave of helplessness, Wyn crossed to the freezer. After making an ice pack for the preschool teacher, she turned back to survey the room. There was no sign of Eli’s coat, hat, mittens, and boots. She wanted to be relieved that the kidnapper didn’t mean her son harm if he’d taken time to dress him for the weather, but she wasn’t.

She also noticed Eli’s stuffed black horse was missing too.

After making the call to the tribal police, who promised to send an officer to Shana’s home, she debated if it would help to contact her father, Ogima Blackhorse, one of the tribal leaders of the Shoshone Reservation. Then she quickly decided against it.

Her father wouldn’t provide the emotional support she needed right now. Their relationship had been strained over the last year, despite his giving her a job working for the tribal council. He wanted her to move away from Riverton, claiming the city had more non-Native Americans than those born to the land. And he was right about that. But rather than move to a city within the rez, she had been thinking of a very different change. One that involved moving off the reservation completely to Cody, Cheyenne, or Laramie—for Eli’s sake. Her son had needs that the schools on the rez couldn’t meet. She knew he needed to be enrolled in the public schools of Wyoming. That would mean getting another job, but she wanted her son to have the best education possible.

But that was a topic for another day. Right now, she needed answers to who had taken Eli and why.

She hurried back outside to scan the neighborhood for a sign of the white pickup truck. She headed down the street in the direction Shana would have taken to come home from school, but she didn’t see any vehicles parked there.

It wasn’t smart to pin her hopes on a glimpse of a white pickup, but that’s all she had to work from. Describing the assailant as a tall, lean man with dark-brown eyes fit almost half the men on the rez.

The panic at knowing her son was out there alone with strangers was crippling. She abruptly turned and headed on foot toward her home that was two doors down from Shana’s. She snagged her phone charger in case the masked kidnapper called with some sort of ransom demand, then continued down the hall to her son’s room. It didn’t take long to place Eli’s dirty clothes from yesterday into a bag. The fact that his shirt was stained from their spaghetti dinner made tears fill her eyes.

Would the kidnappers feed Eli? Would they keep him warm and sheltered from the wind, cold, and snow?

Her knees buckled, and she bowed her head and began to pray.

“Lord Jesus, I know You died to save me. Please spare my son’s life. Please!” For a moment, she wondered if she was being punished for her sins. For the mistakes she’d made. For the secrets she’d kept.

A sob welled in her throat. Was this her fault? Was her little boy suffering at the hands of strangers because of her?

A Bible verse flashed through her mind. In whom we have redemption through his blood, even theforgivenessof sins (Colossians 1:14).

Swallowing hard, she lifted her head, willing the panic at bay. She’d learned about forgiveness of their sins. She needed to keep her faith in Jesus.

And in Chase’s ability to find their son, before it was too late.

* * *

A dark sense of dread rolled through Chase Sullivan’s mind as he drove his specially designed K9 SUV down the highway toward Riverton. Six months ago, he’d taken a very similar path to the rez. He’d searched for a lost child, then, too. Nausea churned in his belly. What if he had the same outcome this time? Rocky had found the child, but too late. The little girl had been found dead at the bottom of a ravine.

Chase couldn’t bear the thought of failing to rescue a second child.

He pushed his speed as much as he dared considering he was pulling a trailer. He’d decided to bring two snow machines. He knew the reservation had acres and acres of open land with very limited road access. In many cases, the direct line between two places couldn’t be traveled by car, only by four-wheelers in the summer and snowmobiles in winter.

Using the rearview mirror, he glanced at his K9, Rocky. The large male Norwegian Elkhound was stretched out in the back crate area, looking around with interest. Rocky’s fluffy fur belied his name but matched the dog’s temperament to a T. Elkhounds could be incredibly stubborn and independent, and while Chase fought to be the alpha in their relationship, Rocky didn’t always go along with the plan.

But Rocky was a good tracker and loved the snow as much if not more than Maya’s husky, Zion. Rocky considered the search game a challenge, whereas Maya’s Zion played to please her handler. They were both good at their jobs, while being different in temperament. And both dogs had high, ridiculously curled tails that often made him smile.

He wasn’t smiling now. He hadn’t seen Wynona in over five years, since the plane crash that had killed his parents. At the time, he’d had his own business as a hunting and fishing guide. He’d met Wynona in the town of Lander where she’d worked. They’d hit it off, and he had fallen hard for her. He’d hoped to marry her, but her father had not given his permission. Before Chase could find a way to win Wynona’s father over, his parents had died.

He’d sold off his half of the Wyoming Wilderness Guide company to his partner David Cooksey to head home to the ranch. His oldest sister, Maya, had done the same thing, giving up her career in law enforcement and moving home from Cheyenne. It had never been an option not to head home to support their seven younger siblings. The property had once been an exclusive dude ranch, but it had been Maya’s idea to change it into a search and rescue operation as a way to honor their dead parents. The siblings had spent weeks trekking through the wooded mountains in the approximate location that their parents’ plane had gone down, without finding anything. No sign of the plane or their parents’ bodies.

Only after the devastating loss did they discover the extent of their parents’ wealth. He and Maya had been named the executors of the Sullivan trust and worked with the lawyers to make sure the ranch and all their siblings would be cared for into the future. Soon, all the siblings wanted to be a part of the search and rescue operation. The Sullivan K9 Search and Rescue Ranch was born and continued to flourish over the years as they successfully ran missions that had garnered them plenty of attention.

Yet it bothered Chase that they’d never found their parents. And while summers were typically their busiest season, he and his siblings often used whatever breaks they had in their schedules to continue their search efforts.

The trip down memory lane was his way of justifying why he’d left Wynona behind over five years ago. And he’d tried to reach out to her several times, without a response. He’d even gone back to the reservation to see her in person, but she’d moved, and he didn’t know where she’d gone. He’d always intended to go back, to try again, but suddenly there were dozens of search and rescue operations that needed their expertise. The weeks had stretched into months, which had stretched into years.

Even six months ago, when he’d searched for the lost child, he’d thought he would run into her, but he hadn’t. And since the outcome had been grim, he and Rocky hadn’t lingered.

Deep down, he’d known Wynona must have found someone else; otherwise, she would have returned one of his calls. Now that he knew about her son, he understood she’d moved on.

That she’d called him now was a testament to her level of desperation. He should have asked more questions about the child. Rocky was good, but he was worried about how they’d find a toddler in these wintery conditions. He called her back using his hands-free function.

“Chase? Where are you?” Wyn’s voice was tense.

“I should be there in thirty minutes. I need you to fill me in on what happened so we can get to work as soon as I arrive.”

“Eli was with Shana, his preschool teacher. I came to pick him up after work and found Shana lying on the floor bleeding from a wound on her temple. She said a masked man came into her house and assaulted her.” Wyn’s voice thickened. “I searched the house, but Eli is gone, along with his coat, hat, boots, mittens, and his stuffed horse.”

“Did Shana recognize the man who came inside?”

“No. She described him as tall, lean, and with dark-brown eyes. His features were covered in a face mask.” She paused, then added, “Shana noticed a white pickup truck parked along the side of the road when she drove home with Eli. There’s no sign of it now, but I gave that information to the tribal police.”

He hated to admit the situation sounded grim. “Okay. I’ll be there soon. Send me a copy of the picture you provide the tribal police. Keep asking Shana questions. Witnesses often remember details later when the initial shock wears off.” At least, that’s what Maya had told him.

“I will. Please hurry.” She ended the call before he could even answer.

By the time he pulled up in front of the home Wyn had described, his muscles were tense with fear and dread. His phone had pinged with the incoming text of the little boy’s photo, but he hadn’t dared take his eyes off the road to look at it. Darkness was falling, and the lack of street lighting on the reservation would make the upcoming search that much more difficult. Before he could slide out from behind the wheel, Wyn ran out to the car.

“Thanks for coming.” Her dark eyes were wide with fear as she held up a plastic bag. “I have Eli’s clothes.”

“Okay.” He released the back hatch, and Rocky immediately jumped down, then lowered his head and lifted his hindquarters to stretch his back. “Rocky, come.”

The Elkhound eyed him for a moment, then trotted over with his head and tail up as if he were a king agreeing to meet with a peasant.

Chase put a hand on Wynona’s arm. “Friend. This is a friend.”

Rocky sniffed her feet, her hands and coat, then wagged his tail. The dog was friendly enough as long as he wasn’t being ordered around.

“Good boy,” Wynona whispered. Then she cleared her throat and looked up at him expectantly. “I spoke with the tribal police, and Shana gave her statement as well. Where will you and Rocky start?”

“Here, since this is the last place Eli was seen.” He glanced down at his dog. “Give me a minute to prepare Rocky for work.” He reached for the bag containing Eli’s clothes, then headed toward the rear hatch. Thankfully, Rocky followed.

Chase quickly looped Rocky’s vest over his torso and cinched it tight. Rocky’s nose lifted to the air, already anxious to explore. He clipped on a utility belt that contained various items that may come in handy during a search. He had a handgun but decided against pulling that out now.

When he was ready, he filled a small collapsible bowl with water and offered it to the K9. Moistening the dog’s mucus membranes enhanced their scenting ability and was a routine part of their searches. Rocky ignored the water, looking away. This was one of their little tussles that made Chase grind his teeth in frustration.

Giving up on the water, he opened the bag and held it for Rocky. “This is Eli.” He was relieved when Rocky buried his snout into the clothing. At least his stubborn K9 liked to work. “Eli,” he repeated. Then he added excitement to his tone. “Are you ready? Are you ready to work? Search! Let’s search for Eli!”

Rocky’s tail wagged back and forth, and the dog didn’t hesitate. Despite his dislike for being given orders, Rocky lifted his nose into the air and sniffed for several long seconds. Then he wheeled and trotted to the sidewalk leading up to the house.

Wynona ran forward to follow, but he grabbed her arm, holding her back.

“Don’t interfere,” he warned. “Stay back so Rocky has room to work.”

Her expression hardened for a moment, but then she gave a jerky nod. “I understand.”

He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. This situation was different from the search six months ago, and if she knew how that one had turned out, she didn’t let on. “Don’t worry, Rocky is very good at his job.”

On cue, the Elkhound sat at the front door and gave a sharp bark. That was Rocky’s alert. He wasn’t quiet about it the way Zion and some of the other dogs were.

“Good boy,” he praised, but he didn’t offer the red ball as a reward. “Search for Eli!”

Rocky whirled, sniffed along the sidewalk again, this time trotting to the road. When his K9 partner turned to keep going, he hastened to follow. Wynona’s concern radiated off her, but she stayed where she was.

Chase was surprised when Rocky went a good sixty yards down the road before stopping to sniff a particular area with interest. He stayed back, waiting for Rocky’s signal.

It came a second later. The dog sat and let out a sharp bark.

“Is that a real alert?” Wyn asked, her voice shaky. “Does your dog believe Eli was there?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what Rocky is telling us.” He pulled a flashlight from his belt and carefully approached the location, playing the light over the street. There wasn’t any fresh snow covering the ground; the road must have been plowed or shoveled since the last snowfall. But he paused when he noticed several footprints in the snow along the side of the road.

He drew the red rubber ball from his pocket and tossed it for Rocky. The dog loved playing with the ball and took off running, his curvy tail wagging from side to side.

Lowering to a crouch, he examined the footprints. As a hunting and fishing guide, he was more familiar with small and large game animal tracks than with human footwear. There was a partial tread left in the snow that matched a popular brand of outdoor boots that probably 80 percent of all men wore here in Wyoming.

He didn’t see a smaller footprint that may have belonged to Eli. He slowly rose and glanced back over his shoulder. Wyn was closer now, as if she was unable to stay away.

“Maybe you should take a look.” He gestured for her to come closer. “Do you see any footprints that may belong to your son?”

She rushed forward and bent to examine the ground illuminated by his flashlight. The excitement in her expression quickly faded. “No. I don’t see anything other than adult-sized boot prints, and those are crisscrossed, making it impossible to judge the size of the shoe.”

He nodded. “That’s my impression too. I have to assume your son was carried here, maybe set down briefly before being placed in the car.”

“The white pickup truck,” she whispered. “I think the driver of the truck waited here for Shana and Eli to arrive. Once he was convinced they were settled in, he pulled on his face mask and headed inside to grab my son.”

It was a logical theory to a point. “Okay, do you have any idea why someone would take your son?”

“No, I’ve been racking my brain ever since I found out he was missing.” Her voice hitched. “He’s just a little boy. I don’t understand what’s going on!”

He watched as Rocky ran around with the ball in his mouth, then turned to face her. “Come on, Wyn. The obvious answer is that this is a custody dispute. Don’t you think it’s possible the child’s father has come back for him?”

“No! This isn’t about Eli’s father.” Her voice was so vehement he was taken aback. “I don’t know why Eli has been taken. I’ve been waiting for a call for some sort of ransom demand, but there’s been nothing!”

He frowned. “How do you know for sure the boy’s father isn’t the one who took him? The fact that there hasn’t been a ransom demand means this is personal. And I can’t think of anything more personal than a father who might be making a desperate move to be a part of his son’s life.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words were bitter.

He sighed, striving for patience. “Okay, then help me understand. Because I’m getting the feeling that there’s something you’re not telling me.”

She turned and stared off into the distance. Then she finally turned back to face him. “The reason I know this isn’t a custody issue is because you are Eli’s biological father.”

The blood drained from his face. He was the boy’s father? A wave of anger hit hard. He grabbed her shoulders, barely managing not to shake her senseless. “I’m his father? Why am I just hearing this now? Why didn’t you tell me back when you discovered you were pregnant?”

Her eyes glittered with tears, but she didn’t fight to pull out of his grip. She simply stared at him. “That’s not important now. Eli is missing, and we need to work together to find him.”

He tightened his grip, then abruptly released her. He grabbed his phone and opened the picture she’d sent earlier. A solemn-faced little boy stared back at him. He had his mother’s dark hair and eyes, but Chase could see his chin in the boy’s features.

He turned away, battling his anger. His son! He had a son! Yet he knew she was right. This wasn’t the time to rehash the past. He could hate her for what she’d done, but that wasn’t going to help.

The son he didn’t know he had was missing. And other than a partial boot print and tire tracks that likely belonged to a white pickup truck, he had no idea how to find him.