Chapter Two
Tanner
Sweat drips into my eyes as I push through my last set of bicep curls. My muscles quiver with fatigue, almost to the point of failure from progressive overload. The burn shooting through them brings a satisfaction that little else does in life. Only successful rescue missions can top it.
My arms are like jello after powering through the last reps. I rack the dumbbells with a clank of metal hitting metal. Endorphins course through me, giving me a buzz. I’ve never done drugs of any kind, but I can’t imagine getting a better high than this.
The world would be a much better place if people tried working out instead of spiraling into pits of despair and destruction. But that would require effort, and it’s something far too many are not willing to do. They’d rather lie, cheat, and steal while poisoning their bodies and our society.
Taking a swig from my water bottle, I attempt to pull my thoughts from the depressing direction they’re heading.
No use dwelling on the shit that cannot be changed.
People have to want to change. No matter how much you want to, you cannot do it for them.
A lesson I learned far too young watching my older brother suck the soul from my parents before ODing, leaving them in not only emotional but financial ruin from trying to save him.
Heaving a deep breath, I flow through a series of movements to cool down and stretch my muscles so they don’t get tight after having pushed them to their limits.
I run through the protocols for field treating a traumatic spinal injury to shift my mind to something else.
It’s not necessarily more pleasant, but it is required knowledge for my work as the leader of the Coyote Creek Search and Rescue team.
It’s important to stay fresh on procedures we don’t use regularly so when a situation does call for them we’re prepared.
Once I’m done stretching, I flip off the light in the spare room I converted into a gym and step across the hall to my bedroom. I shed my sweaty clothes, dropping them in the hamper on my way to the shower. The water sluicing over my body rejuvenates me.
My phone blares just as I finish getting dressed. Adrenaline races through me at hearing the piercing sound. That tone this time of day only means one thing—time to go to work.
This is the shit I live for. Coordinating the chaos, following the clues, and hopefully reuniting people with their loved ones.
I was worried I wouldn’t find the same purpose in life as I had when I had been in the army, but it didn’t take me long to find search and rescue work and I knew I had found my calling.
“Lawson,” I bark after swiping to answer the device.
“This is dispatch. We’ve got a report of a missing four-year-old female at 9053 Willowbend Drive. Mother woke to find the subject gone. She searched the house and immediate property but didn’t find her. No evidence of a break-in.”
My gut clenches, my excitement souring at the details as the dispatcher efficiently reads me in.
Missing children are the worst. A four-year-old missing girl is my nightmare.
Chills cover my body as if someone is walking over my grave, and an image of another little girl flashes in my mind.
Seems today is the day for visits from ghosts.
Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I focus on the information I’ve been given.
“Copy that. Send out the SAR team notification alert to assemble at the address. I’m heading there now.”
“Copy. Sending now.”
The alert comes over my phone before we’ve even disconnected. I can’t help but appreciate the dispatch support we have here. They’re more than competent and keep track of everything for us during searches.
I slip the device into my pocket as I scurry to get out of the house, pausing only to grab a protein shake from the fridge and shove my feet into my boots. My pack is already in the truck where I keep it ready to go at a moment’s notice.
Slamming the door to my pickup, it takes all the restraint I have not to peel out of my driveway. It would only serve to piss off my already crotchety neighbor. The last thing I need today is a call from my landlord chewing me out because of the old windbag.
I need to find a new place to live, but Coyote Creek is your typical small town with little extra housing available. It was sheer luck I got the place I have now as quickly as I did. But that’s a worry for another day. Right now my focus needs to be on bringing a little girl home to her mother.
I make a call to Alana Gillman, my team medic, and ask her to swing by and get the SAR trailer at the office since it’s on her way.
The trip out to Willowbend only takes me ten minutes. The place is just outside Coyote Creek. The properties here have acreage around them, giving plenty of room for privacy. 9053 is the end of the road.
My gut clenches at the miles of forest land surrounding the property. It’s a lot of land for a little girl to get lost in. Not to mention the creek running through the area.
I pull to a stop next to the green sheriff’s rig.
I spot Deputy Lee Hollis on the sagging porch of the tan farmhouse with peeling paint.
Standing next to him is a voluptuous woman clad in gray joggers and a pink flannel shirt with bare feet.
Dark blonde hair is piled haphazardly on top of her head, and her arms are wrapped around her waist.
As I hustle toward them, her blotchy nose and cheeks are an expected sight. One I’m used to seeing in this line of work. The weight on my chest intensifies at the precarious situation. The urge to do whatever I can to erase the devastation marring her face steals my breath.
The force of it has my feet stalling. When Deputy Hollis’s gaze comes to mine with furrowed brows and a frown, I shake the sensation off before pounding up the steps to them.
He raises his chin at me. “Tanner Lawson, this is Ella Begin. Her four-year-old daughter, Maisie, is missing. As far as Ella knows, she’s been gone since before Ella woke up, which was about an hour and a half ago now. Here’s a photo of her. She’s currently wearing purple unicorn pajamas.”
He holds out a cellphone with an image of a little girl with shoulder-length blonde curls a few shades lighter than her mother’s. The child has a wide, infectious smile with a slight gap between her front teeth.
I hold my hand out to shake Ella's. She’s utterly stunning, despite her disheveled appearance due to the circumstances.
I can’t help but wonder what she looks like with a smile brightening her face.
It’s gotta be incredible. Now I’m even more determined to find the little girl just to see if I’m right.
When her hand touches mine, there’s a zap of electricity which has her cerulean eyes flaring before she snatches it back. Mine hangs in the air for a moment before I come to my senses.
Clearing my now dry throat, I start gathering pertinent information. “Are there any places nearby you take Maisie to regularly?”
She shakes her head. “We’ve only just moved in a week ago. We’re completely new to the area.”
I frown at the news for more than one reason. One, being it does nothing to narrow our search or give us a place to start. Two, it probably means Ella has no one to be with her during this time.
“Do you have any family or friends nearby who could come wait with you?”
Her lips turn down. “No, but I’m not waiting here anyway. I want to help look for her.”