Chapter 4
4
H ad the kidnapper taken shots at them? Wynona gripped the handrest tightly and peered into the darkness. She couldn’t see anything suspicious but knew someone was out there.
The shooting attempt made no sense. Unless she and Chase had gotten too close?
She turned and grabbed his arm. “Maybe the kidnappers are trying to scare us off because they’re hiding Eli nearby.”
“I doubt they’d hold him this close to the original scene of the kidnapping.” He glanced at her before turning onto the street where she lived. “But I’m going to take Rocky and search the area for the shooter. I don’t like putting my K9 in danger, but we need to understand what’s going on.”
She swallowed hard. If the gunman hurt Chase or Rocky, she would feel responsible. And selfishly, she knew Rocky was their best chance at finding Eli. The way he’d alerted where the white pickup truck had been located and again at Dorian’s house proved that the dog would be able to find her son if they were able to get close enough to the place he was being held. “Maybe we shouldn’t do that.”
“It’s a risk I need to take.” Chase looked grim as he parked along the side of the road in front of her house. “I doubt the shooter would be stupid enough to stick around. But he may have left evidence behind.”
That possibility helped sway her opinion. “Okay, then I’m coming with you.” When he frowned as if to argue, she tightened her grip on his arm. “Please, Chase. I can’t just sit here worrying about you. And if we can find the gunman or his location where he was when he took that shot at us, he could lead us to Eli.”
“Fine, but you’ll need to stick close.” He threw his door open and released the rear hatch. She released him to slide out of the car. Rocky appeared eager to go as he sniffed the area with interest. “Rocky, come.”
This time, the dog obeyed Chase’s command, trotting over to his side. Chase bent and ruffled his fur with his gloved hands. She stayed back, watching with interest. She’d heard rumblings about the Sullivan K9 search and rescue siblings, but seeing them in action was more impressive than she’d expected.
She tried not to stare at Chase as he worked with his K9. He’d only grown more handsome over the years.
“Are you ready to search?” Chase revved up the excitement in his tone. “Are you, boy? Search! Search for gold!”
Gold? She wanted to ask what that meant, but Rocky wheeled away from Chase and lifted his nose to the air. The dog moved in a circle, then abruptly bounded between her home and the one between her and Shana in the direction they’d come from.
Chase took off after him, so she broke into a run too. This was what he’d meant by keeping up. Jogging with a bulky coat, hat, gloves, and snow boots wasn’t easy, but if Chase could do it, so could she.
Rocky slowed his pace, his nose working constantly. She took a moment to catch her breath, hoping and praying the dog would find something.
And that the gunman wasn’t sitting in a hiding spot, waiting for them to get close enough to shoot at them again.
The dog abruptly headed to the right, then bounded forward through an open area between homes. Rocky was light enough weightwise that he was able to walk over the top of the snow without breaking through.
She and Chase were not. Glancing back over her shoulder, she grimaced at the fact that they were leaving a blatant trail in their wake.
Then she took heart in knowing the shooter would have left his tracks behind as well.
Chase turned to follow Rocky. She slipped in the snow, but then regained her momentum. She managed to catch up to Chase just as she heard Rocky let out a sharp bark.
“What did he find?” She squinted, trying to see where Rocky was sitting.
“Not sure,” Chase said in a low voice. “Stay behind me, okay?”
She understood he was trying to protect her. Shifting to the side, she did as he asked. It wasn’t easy, as she couldn’t see beyond his broad shoulders.
Then she caught a glimpse of pale skin and realized he had removed his right glove to hold a weapon. Swallowing a protest, she gripped the back of his coat and followed him around the corner of a dilapidated building. Not a house, but a shed of some sort.
She still couldn’t see Rocky and began to worry the gunman was hiding nearby looking for the opportunity to spring out at them. But then Chase moved forward, and she caught a glimpse of tracks in the snow.
Human tracks and the faint impression of Rocky’s paw prints.
The tracks led to a trailer home, but Rocky wasn’t near the door the way she’d expected. The dog sat toward the end of a driveway marked with fresh tire tracks, and the Elkhound stared toward Chase expectantly.
“What did you find, Rock?” Chase asked, scanning the area as he approached the dog. She wanted to rush inside the trailer house but managed to hold back. Not only was the place dark inside, the recent tire tracks and lack of a white truck, or any other vehicle for that matter, indicated nobody was home.
But she wanted, needed to know if Eli had been there recently.
“Good boy,” Chase proclaimed. “Good find, Rocky!” He slipped the gun back into his pocket and retrieved the red ball. He tossed it for the dog, then dropped to his haunches to peer down at the ground.
“I don’t understand,” she said, trying to see beyond his shoulder at what had caught his attention. “What is gold?”
“Gun powder and gun oil associated with weapons. And by association, bullets and shell casings.” He put his glove back on to pick up the shell casing that had fallen into the snow, holding it up for her to see. “Maya has been working on cross-training our dogs to find guns. And Rocky did his part with this.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.” She shot another worried glance around the area. This particular trailer house was at the end of a road that was probably a mile or so from her place. In following Rocky’s path, they had gone farther than she’d realized. “Does that mean the shooter was standing here when he fired at us?”
Chase rose. “Actually, based on the trajectory of the shot and the location of the shell casing, I think the guy must have fired at us from inside his car.”
She frowned. “And what, just happened to see us driving by?”
He shrugged, watching as Rocky ran in a circle with his ball. “It’s not like the SUV and trailer are easy to hide. And that’s my fault because I thought it would be a good idea to have our name and logo stenciled on the sides of the SUVs.” He grimaced. “Maya might be right in that we should get the entire fleet repainted.”
She could see his point. “I would like to think most people would support you and your family since you’re providing a service to the community.”
“That’s what I had hoped too. But tonight’s gunfire proves otherwise.” He raised his voice. “Come, Rocky!”
The dog ignored him. Chase sighed.
She gestured to the tire tracks. “Is there a way to identify if these specific tire marks belong to a pickup truck?”
Chase turned away from Rocky to examine the tracks more closely. “I doubt it. Looks to me as if there was more than one vehicle that came down the driveway. See how they crisscross each other?” He walked out into the street. “Even out here there are two sets of tracks.”
Rocky bounded over, his high curved tail wagging back and forth as he dropped the ball on the ground at Chase’s feet. Chase grunted with annoyance as he bent to pick it up.
She had to admit that it seemed as if the dog purposefully waited to obey Chase’s commands. She turned her attention back to the shell casing. “Are you going to call the tribal police to give them the casing?”
“Not yet.” Chase gestured to the trailer. “Give me a minute to see if anyone is inside. If not, I’ll ask Rocky to search for Eli’s scent.”
Her pulse spiked. “You really think Eli was here?”
“Not sure. But it occurs to me that the gunman may have been trying to scare us off.” Chase leveled her a stern look. “Stay here with Rocky. This won’t take long.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Hurry.”
Chase pointed at Rocky. “Stay!” Then he headed up to the trailer home. From her position next to Rocky, who surprisingly obeyed Chase this time, she held her breath as he moved from one window to the next. He paused briefly to try the front door, then moved on.
After a few minutes, he disappeared around the corner to check the rest of the home.
She forced herself to breathe, aware of the cold chill in the air now that she wasn’t running through the neighborhood.
“So, Rocky, how do you like living on the Sullivan ranch?” She felt foolish for talking to the dog, but the way the Elkhound cocked his head and looked up at her made her think he was listening.
Just when she was about to go after Chase, he rounded the dwelling from the opposite side. To his credit, he had worked quickly.
“No sign of anyone inside.” He quickly strode toward her. “And good news, the door is unlocked. It appears to me as if they left in a hurry. There are a couple of half-full beer bottles on the kitchen table.” He reached down to put his hand on Rocky’s head. The dog looked up at him. “Are you ready to work? Are you? Search! Search Eli!”
“Don’t you need the scent bag?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, it’s in the SUV.” He shrugged. “Rocky is smart. I think he’ll remember Eli’s scent.”
As if to prove him right, the dog began his zigzag pattern of sniffing along the ground. It didn’t take long for the dog to end up at the front door of the trailer. He sat and let out a sharp bark.
“Good boy,” Chase said, quickly heading to the door. He didn’t take the ball from his pocket, though. Instead, he opened the front door and stepped inside. After a moment, a light flashed on. “Search! Search for Eli!”
With her heart lodged in her throat, Wyn came inside to watch Rocky work. And when the dog alerted right next to the sofa, it was all she could do not to cry.
Eli had been taken away. And as much as she was relieved to know Eli had been there, she and Chase were no closer to finding their son.
Or the men who had him.
* * *
Stunned to realize the son he had never met had been held there inside the trailer, it took him a moment to reward his K9 partner for a job well done. “Good boy! Good find, Rocky.” He reached for Rocky’s ball, then hesitated.
This was technically a crime scene.
DNA from the beer bottles could be tested. A process that would take at least several days, even if he could convince the cops to put a rush on the results.
His soon-to-be brother-in-law Doug Bridges worked for the State of Wyoming Criminal Investigations Division. The state was too small for the local police departments to handle significant crimes, and the feds generally only got involved when criminals crossed state lines. Or for crimes occurring within national parks.
And larger crimes occurring on the Wind River Reservation. Like kidnapping?
Maybe.
“Okay, we need to get out of here.” He winced as Wyn looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment. “The trailer needs to be processed for evidence.”
“How soon can that be done?” She turned and headed back outside.
“I’ll make some calls.” He didn’t want her to be depressed to know what the likely turn around is for the techs to even get there, much less process the evidence.
When they’d cleared the trailer, he pulled the ball from his pocket and tossed it for Rocky. The dog acted as if he’d been separated from his toy for hours instead of minutes, taking off after it, then running in circles.
The five-year-old Elkhound was a puppy at heart.
“Where do you think they took Eli?” Wyn asked. Then her eyes widened. “I know, I can access the tribal housing database to find out who owns this house and see if that same person owns any others.”
“That’s a good idea.” He gestured toward the road. “We need to get back to your place.”
She shivered and nodded. “The sooner the better.”
“Rocky, come!” He didn’t wait for the dog, knowing he’d respond in his own sweet time, but began retracing their steps. Five minutes later, Rocky bounded beside them still holding the ball in his mouth. Chase looked at the dog. “Hand.”
The dog clearly didn’t want to give up his toy, but after a long moment, he dropped it on the ground. Chase scooped it up and put the ball in his pocket. Rocky tested his patience more often than not, but the K9 had performed exceptionally well for them tonight. Despite his stubborn independent streak, Rocky had given them what they’d needed.
He’d take the win. Especially knowing Eli had been alive and well when he was there, what, an hour ago? Maybe less?
Following their tracks back to the site of the shooting was easy enough, and it didn’t take long to spot the SUV and trailer. He took a moment to examine the outside of the SUV and snowmobile trailer, finding the deep groove along the top of the trailer that had been made by the path of the bullet.
At least the sleds and the SUV weren’t damaged, but he was still upset at how close the shooter had come to derailing their search.
Although if that had been the goal, the kidnappers had made the first of what he hoped were many mistakes. The shooter had underestimated their determination to find their son. Quite the opposite. The shooter had inadvertently led them straight to the location where they’d been holding Eli.
He and Wynona were one step closer to finding Eli. If the tribal housing authority records led them to a secondary location.
And if not? He winced, deciding not to head down that path. They needed to think positive. To stay focused.
To have faith in God. Something he’d struggled with over the years since losing his parents.
He quickened his pace, anxious to get inside so Wynona could start her search.
“Let me go inside first,” he said, when they’d reached her home. It was small but nicer than the trailer. He pulled out his gun. “I’ll let you know when I’ve cleared the place.”
She frowned but gave a jerky nod and pulled out her keys. “Here. I locked it when I left earlier this morning.”
He unlocked the door and stepped inside. Being greeted by the familiar cinnamon and apple scent threatened to send him back in time to the early days of his relationship with Wynona.
The house was generally neat and tidy, although there were signs that a small child lived there. A booster seat on one of the kitchen chairs. A pair of small boots near the front door. It wasn’t easy to stay focused on the task at hand.
After verifying the house was empty, he went back to the front door. “It’s clear. Rocky, come.”
The dog paused to lift his leg to pee on a snowbank, then trotted toward him. Chase stepped back so the dog could come in. The K9 lifted his nose to the air, sat, and let out a sharp bark.
“I’m surprised he’s alerting on Eli’s scent even though you didn’t ask him to search,” Wyn said with a puzzled frown.
“He does that sometimes.” He held the K9’s dark gaze, debating on whether he should reward the dog or not. Then he decided to go ahead. He didn’t want Rocky to lose interest in the search for Eli game. “Good boy.” He tossed the ball into the air.
Rocky caught it before it hit the floor.
“Is there anything you need before I start making calls?” he asked, shedding his coat, hat, and gloves. He removed the .38 from his pocket and set it on the end table. Then bent over to unlace his boots.
“Would you mind starting a fire?” Wyn still wore her outer gear as she opened her laptop on the kitchen table. “I can’t seem to get warm.”
He suspected she wouldn’t feel warm until they’d found Eli but went ahead and started the fire. Once he had a roaring blaze going, he pulled his phone from his pocket and sat on the sofa.
He’d expected to hear Doug’s voice mail kick in, but a sleepy voice asked, “Chase? Is something wrong?”
“Sorry to wake you. And yeah, I need help.” He filled Doug in on the missing child Eli Blackhorse and Rocky’s search efforts over the past few hours. He didn’t mention Eli being his son because he didn’t want the conversation diverted off topic. The only thing that mattered was finding Eli.
The personal stuff would have to wait.
“Wow, you’ve done a good job in a short period of time,” Doug said, sounding more awake. “Amazing how you were able to find that shell casing and the trailer house. You do realize, though, that I don’t have jurisdiction on the rez.”
“I know, but I was hoping your years of working in the federal government would help grease the wheels,” he admitted. “I remember you met with the FBI agents in Cheyenne shortly after you found Emily.”
“I did and will gladly give Special Agent in Charge Griffin Flannery a call,” Doug said. “From what I’ve learned over the past two weeks, the feds delegate evidence collection to the state crime lab.”
“But they’re in Cheyenne, right?” The largest city in Wyoming happened to be located in the far southeast corner of the state. “The techs in Cody or Laramie are closer.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Doug promised. “Either city works for me, I’ve come to respect the crime scene techs that work out of Cody. They do a great job. Give me the location of the crime scene and I’ll drag Griff out of bed.”
“Thanks.” He gave Doug the location as best he was able. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to meet your team there, depends on whether or not we get another lead.”
“A missing kid should be a priority. I’m hoping I can get the techs deployed right away.” Doug hesitated, then added, “Although I may get heat for the fact that you didn’t call the feds in sooner.”
“I’ll take the blame.” Chase wearily rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve been following leads but have reached a dead end, at least for the moment. We’re trying other options, but honestly, the sooner they can process the DNA from the beer bottles and check the shell casing, the better.”
“Hear you on that. I’ll be in touch.” Doug ended the call, presumably to wake up the FBI agent in Cheyenne.
“Chase?” He jumped to his feet, turning to face Wynona. His sudden movement startled Rocky, who also jumped to his feet, then yawned as if annoyed he’d been woken from his nap. “I found the owner of the house, but it’s a woman. A woman by the name of Julia Stone.” She looked at him. “Do you think a woman could be behind this?”
“Anything is possible, but keep in mind she could also be related to the kidnappers in some way. A sister, mother, or grandmother.” He crossed the room to join her at the kitchen table. Rocky followed, but then stretched out and lowered his head to go back to his napping. “Does she own other properties? Maybe she has a couple of sons, and they’re living at different houses.”
“No.” Her slim shoulders deflated. “I don’t see anything else listed under her name.”
“Okay, what about other owners with the same last name of Stone?” He didn’t want this to be the end of the trail. “She might be divorced. Or has a brother with the same last name.”
“Let’s see what I can find.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard. Computer searches were not his area of expertise, his partner had created their wilderness hunting and fishing guide website. Chase had spent most of his life outdoors and preferred that over paperwork.
After their parents had been killed in the airplane crash, he and Maya discovered they were the executors of their estate. He’d been forced to learn how to navigate the legal system very quickly. Yet computer work still wasn’t his strong suit.
“No other properties under the last name of Stone.” Wyn looked dejected. “The only thing we know for sure is that she’s registered with one of the Native American tribes. Only tribal members can own property on the rez.”
“Social media?” He was at a loss as to how to help. “Maybe we can find a list of friends or relatives with another name?”
“Can’t hurt,” Wyn said as she went back to working the keyboard. “What do you think of calling the tribal police to let them know her house is a crime scene? Maybe they can issue an arrest warrant for her?”
“I’ll call Doug back, have him search for vehicles registered to the name of Julia Stone.” He hated bothering Doug again so soon. He called, but Doug didn’t answer. Assuming his future brother-in-law was still on the phone with the feds, he left a quick message. “Hey, Doug, need help identifying the DMV registration of a woman named Julia Stone. Unknown DOB, but possibly mid-forties or fifties. Thanks.”
Then he sat back to wait. As the room warmed from the fire, a wave of exhaustion hit hard. Without something constructive to work on, his body defaulted into resting mode. He shook his head to clear away the fatigue, then stood. “Do you mind if I make coffee?”
“Help yourself.” Wyn didn’t look up from the screen.
Rocky opened one eye, then closed it again. At times like this, he envied the dog’s ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. He made the coffee, then racked his brain for another way to find Eli.
One thing was for sure, there were two kidnappers involved. Two sets of tire tracks meant one was driving something other than a white pickup truck.
The opportunities to find these guys were getting slim. If they didn’t find something to break the case open, they may have little choice but to sit around and wait for the DNA results.
And what if their perp wasn’t in the system?
Wynona abruptly stood and began to pace. “I can’t find Julia Stone on social media.” Her voice vibrated with frustration. “I found her in the tribal registry, but there aren’t any siblings or children mentioned.”
He frowned. “Could she be renting the place?”
“Yes, but I don’t have access to those records.” She whirled to face him. “But the feds may be able to dig into that, right?”
“I’ll ask.” He didn’t like the case ending like this either. “I’m sure Doug will call me back soon.”
She nodded, then turned away. When she wiped at her face, he realized she was crying.
“Don’t give up, Wyn,” he murmured, crossing over to put his arm around her shoulders. “Try to stay positive. To have faith. We’re going to find him.”
“Are we?” Her voice thickened with tears. She turned into his embrace, burying her face against his chest. “I can’t stand it. We need to find him, Chase. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to him. He’s just a little boy!”
“I know.” His resentment and anger morphed into empathy. He gathered her close, resting his hair on her dark silky hair, breathing in her unique scent. This wasn’t the time to be at odds. They were stuck in this nightmare together.
And that meant leaning on each other until they had Eli home safe.