Chapter 29 – Chris
The McIntyre Search and Rescue team shows up within twenty minutes of my call.
That’s pretty impressive considering they were scattered around town doing their day jobs—Hannah and Killian running the lodge, Micah at the auto repair shop, Owen most likely at home taking care of his baby daughter, John Burke tending the horses in the stable, Maya and Travis likely in the process of getting a group of visitors ready to go hiking or rock climbing.
Even Ruth and Jack, who aren’t officially part of the SAR team, come to join the search.
I’ve got two deputies scouring Bryce and the surrounding countryside looking for Braggart, in case he’s not here and we’re barking up the wrong tree. They’re looking for Jennie, too.
But my gut feeling tells me they’re both here on this property. This is where Braggart feels safest. He knows these acres like the back of his hand. This was his childhood playground. And that gives me an idea.
I call Ricky over—he was in the same grade as us in school. “Do you remember Braggart from school?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember who his friends were?”
“Honestly, the guy was an ass even back then. I don’t think he had many friends.”
“Was there anyone in particular he hung out with?”
Ricky racks his brain. “There was one kid, maybe. Someone as douchebaggy as Dave was. Clint Tolliver.”
“I remember him. Doesn’t he work in the hardware store here in town?”
Ricky nods. “That’s the one. You want me to go talk to him?”
I nod. “Try to find out if he knows where Braggart would go to ground if he was in trouble. Is there a place on this property, or even elsewhere, he’d go?”
“Will do.” Ricky gives me a salute as he turns and heads toward his cruiser.
* * *
We create a makeshift command center in the red barn. Hannah spreads a regional map out on an old wooden desk and weights the corners down with small stones. She pulls out her handy black marker.
“Here’s the main house,” she says as she circles an area. “And you’ve already searched it and found nothing?” she asks me.
I nod. “Yeah. You can scratch it off.”
She draws a big X to mark the house as eliminated. She draws in the location of the barns, chicken coop, and other out buildings. “And these have all been searched thoroughly as well?”
“Yes.”
Hannah sets a paper grocery sack on the table, opens it, and withdraws two garments—a pink camisole top and a pair of gray knit sleep shorts. I recognize them as the pajamas she wore to bed last night.
“I took the liberty of stopping at her house and taking these from Jennie’s dirty laundry hamper. We’ll use these to give Scout a scent to work with.”
Scout, the dog in question, is lying underneath the desk, quiet but alert, his dark eyes darting back and forth. When Hannah says his name, the dog’s head shoots up, and his ears perk sharply upright. But when no command follows, he relaxes and lays his head back down on his paws.
Hannah draws an outline around the entire Braggart property. “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. We need more intel to narrow the search.”
I tell her about Ricky going to look for Clint Tolliver to see if he has any insight as to where Braggart might have gone to hide out.
“There’s no point in sitting around on our asses and doing nothing,” Killian says as he lays his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “I say we start with the obvious trails.”
“Agreed,” Hannah says. “Let’s survey the perimeter of the open space around the house and look for potential entry points into the woods. I imagine there are multiple trails that are passable by ATV. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find fresh tire marks.”
The carefully manicured yard surrounding the house is about two acres of pristinely mowed turf with a few well-placed mature trees.
We spread out to examine the perimeter of the expansive yard, looking for breaks in the trees where an ATV might be able to slip through without leaving a lot of evidence behind—snapped branches and trampled undergrowth.
We find tire marks at the beginning of two of the trails, so that approach isn’t as helpful as we’d hoped.
“Three,” Hannah says when we reconvene at the makeshift command center.
“Three obvious trails wide enough for an ATV to pass through.” She frowns.
“I suppose it could be worse. Right now I propose we split into three groups and follow these trails as far as we can. Until we hear something different, this is the best we have to go on.”
Scout is up on his feet now, a bit antsy. I suspect he knows something’s up, that we’re about to ask him to do something. This dog sure loves to be asked to do things.
Everyone splits into teams. I’m going with Hannah, Killian and Scout.
Jace is going with Micah, Ruth, and Jack.
Owen, John, and the rock climbers will take the last trail.
One of my deputies is assigned to each team, so at least one member is armed.
Most SAR volunteers aren’t armed, but Hannah prefers at least one person on each team to carry a weapon.
In this case, the officers are armed, of course.
We’re wearing full tactical outfits, including bulletproof vests.
Hannah and Killian are armed, as are Owen and John.
After Scout is given an opportunity to thoroughly sniff Jennie’s items of clothing, we set off.
Scout gets dibs on which trail he wants to explore.
We take him to the first trail, but he’s not too excited.
Same for the middle trail. But when we take him to the third trail, he finally shows some enthusiasm.
Tracking missing people can be a living saving event, but to Scout, it’s all a game. And he loves to win.
“We’ll take this one,” Hannah says as she offers the dog Jennie’s pajamas once more. “Everyone radio in if you find anything.”
“Scout, go find!” Hannah says to her dog. “Go find!”
Scout takes off at a good clip, and Hannah, Killian, and I push ourselves to keep up with him.
He stays mostly to the well-defined trail, occasionally veering off into the thick undergrowth.
But each time he deviates from the path, he returns to the trail and continues forward, deeper into the woods.
I’m surprised to hear my phone chiming with an incoming text message. It’s from Ricky.
Ricky: Spoke to Tolliver. He says the Braggarts have a rough hunting cabin deep in the woods on their property, near a stream. Dave used to hang out there with friends to smoke weed. That’s the only place he could think of.
Well, at least we have something to focus on now.
“There’s a hunting cabin somewhere on the property, near a stream,” I tell Hannah and Killian. “I think that’s our best option.”
Hannah radios the other two search teams with an update.
Micah radios back to say they have found a stream, and that they’ll follow it in hopes it leads to the cabin.
At least we now have two potentially helpful leads to investigate.
I check the time. It’s been almost ninety minutes since I received the alert from Jennie’s pendant.
In the wider scheme of things, that’s not a whole lot of time.
But in reality, Braggart could do a lot of damage to her in that amount of time.
I figure he spent at least half that time transporting her to their destination, provided our assumptions are correct.
That leaves forty-five minutes for him to terrorize her.
I’m trying desperately to keep a cool head, to treat this situation professionally, like I would in any case of a missing person. But this isn’t just any case. It’s Jennie. And my gut is in knots at the thought of her being frightened, or even worse—hurt.
I vow to myself here and now that if he has hurt her, he’s a dead man. I don’t care what it takes. I won’t risk him possibly getting out on a technicality and threatening her again. My job, not as a sheriff, but as her boyfriend, is to ensure her safety, now and in the future.
* * *
We’ve been out here almost an hour on foot and moving at a good pace when we get our first inkling we might be on the right track.
I signal the team to stop. “I hear water.”
Hannah and Killian come to a stop, and we all three listen. We can make out the sound of swiftly moving water off to our left.
We contemplate cutting through the trees to locate the stream, thinking we can follow it to the cabin. But Scout makes up our minds for us when he sprints ahead with a new sense of eagerness.
We keep pace with Scout, who’s moving faster and faster as if he’s zeroing in on his quarry. It’s not long until we round a bend, and there ahead of us, in a small clearing, is a run-down log cabin that has definitely seen better days. The stream is close by, too. We can hear the rushing water.
The cabin is a single story log structure. It’s a square building with a door in the center of the front wall, a window on each side. There’s a wooden porch on the front with a sagging overhang. I spot an ATV parked alongside the building, partially covered with a filthy dark blue tarp.
Hannah calls Scout back to her, and we stay back, out of direct sight of the cabin.
While Hannah radios her people with an update, I send out a message to my station, calling on all available officers to join me.
I let them know where to rendezvous with us.
We won’t be able to make a move until I have a sufficient law enforcement presence on site.
Ricky and Jace are the first ones on the scene. The rest of the SAR team shows up, but I insist they pull way back out of the line of fire. They’re search and rescue, not law enforcement. This is undoubtedly a volatile situation.
Jack Merchant walks up to me, looking as calm and deadly as a person can. “I can help.” He’s got a 9mm tucked into his hip holster.
I figure he can as he has an extensive background in military special ops.
Owen Ramsey joins him. “I can, too.” He’s armed as well.
The time spent waiting for more officers to show up is unbearable.
I want to rush the cabin right now, guns blazing, and put an end to this, but of course I can’t do that.
I have no idea where Jennie is inside that cabin—assuming she’s even in there—or if she is, what shape she’s in.
If I go in there half-cocked, I’d be putting her at risk.
So I do my best to tamp down my anxiety and focus on a positive outcome.
I pull Ricky aside. “I’ve got a plan. Listen carefully, and don’t fuck this up.”
“What kind of plan?” he asks, frowning at me. “You’d better not be planning something stupid.”
“I’m going to do whatever it takes to rescue Jennie, and you’re going to help me.”
Hold on, Jennie. I’ll get you out of there.