Chapter 13
Wyatt put his phone away and stepped closer to Kori to give her the update. “Micah is heading out to examine the vehicle. He and his deputies will go through it.”
Kori nodded and touched the back of her neck. “I appreciate that.”
Jake climbed from his truck, Moses following him, and they met them in the lot.
Wyatt had always respected the man—he was a good search and rescue ranger. And Moses, his bloodhound, was one of the best.
He introduced him to Kori, and they debriefed a moment.
Then it was time to go.
He prayed Kori could handle this trail. That they’d be safe. That the snow wouldn’t slow them up too much. A lot could go wrong.
But they needed to find Mackenzie. If she was out in these elements, then she was in danger. The conditions were bad. Hypothermia could set in. Wild animals were also a risk. But even more than that, she could fall. Get lost.
Too many things could go wrong.
Wyatt produced a sealed plastic bag from his backpack. Inside was a gray henley from Mackenzie’s laundry basket. He held it open for Moses, and the bloodhound buried his face in it, huffed twice, and went completely still.
Then the canine shifted, ready to work.
Next Wyatt offered the bag to Thunder. The shepherd’s nose worked the fabric. Then he lifted his head and looked at the trail marker.
The canines were set to begin.
Wyatt looked at Kori. “Ready?”
She nodded, a determined look on her face. “Let’s go.”
Despite the circumstances, Wyatt couldn’t help but notice that the trail was beautiful.
Snow covered every branch, and the mountains seemed to be clothed in innocence. The canopy had prevented much of the snow from reaching the ground, meaning they were walking through six inches of snow instead of a foot.
Moses moved steadily ahead on the trail, his nose low as he followed the scent Jake had given him. Thunder ranged forward and outward, checking back at intervals.
Bloodhounds worked ground scent. Thunder worked the air. So having both canines here worked in their favor.
Kori kept pace behind Wyatt. He heard the change in her breathing as the elevation climbed. She wasn’t a hiker, but she didn’t complain—which he could admire.
After a while, she said, “How does this actually work?”
Wyatt glanced back at her. “Search and rescue?”
She nodded. “I mean . . . are we just hoping the dogs find something? Or is there more of a plan than that?”
“There’s always a plan. We start with last known point—where the person was last seen or confirmed. From there, we work probability. Where they were headed, what shape they’re in, how long they’ve been out here.”
“And the dogs?”
“They give us direction,” he said. “Moses is tracking where she’s been. Thunder helps pick up anything that drifts—movement, scent carried on the wind. Sometimes one works better than the other, depending on conditions.”
Kori stepped over a root buried beneath the snow. “And if the trail disappears?”
“It usually does at some point,” Wyatt said. “Snow, terrain, time—it all breaks things up. That’s when we widen the search. Grid patterns. Air support if we have it. We cover ground until something turns up.”
She was quiet a moment, then said, “And most of the time . . . you find them?”
Wyatt didn’t answer right away. Finally, he said, “Most of the time, we find them.”
She absorbed that then glanced ahead at the trail. “What if we don’t find her today?”
“We keep going,” Wyatt said. “Searches like this don’t stop after one day. They expand.”
“Expand how?”
“More people. More teams. If needed, the state gets involved. Sometimes federal resources too, depending on the situation.”
“And who’s in charge?” she asked. “You? The park rangers? The sheriff?”
“It depends on where we are,” Wyatt said. “Out here, it’s usually a unified command. Sheriff’s department, park service, search and rescue—they coordinate. Nobody works alone on something like this.”
Kori nodded. “So Sheriff Sutherland would be involved.”
“He already is. And if this keeps going, he’ll be working alongside everyone else calling in resources.”
They walked in silence after that, following the dogs for miles. Occasionally, they called Mackenzie’s name. But mostly they let the dogs work.
Finally, the trail curved left, and a new marker appeared ahead—a weathered post with a faded sign reading TRAIL END. Beyond it, the path continued, but it was narrower and disappeared into the trees.
Based on the tracks in front of them, someone had recently been through here.
This was the part of the trail where Kori had said she’d turn around. But turning around now would cause them to lose time.
Moses slowed near the marker, circling once as if sorting through the scent. Whatever track he’d been following seemed to scatter in several directions.
As they paused, Jake’s radio crackled, and he lifted it to his ear.
Wyatt waited for him to finish before asking, “Everything okay?”
“A twelve-year-old is missing in Shenandoah. Out since yesterday afternoon. Park rangers there are requesting my help.”
Kori turned toward him, panic flashing in her gaze. “You’re leaving? But Mackenzie has been out here for six days. She could be—”
“I know.” Genuine apology tinged his voice. “But a child needs help—a child who’s most likely alone and lost and without any skills.”
Her expression shifted as if she’d realized the situation, and she held up a hand. “I get it. You’re right. I’m sorry for my reaction. You need to go.”
Jake nodded, gratitude in his gaze. “Thanks for understanding. Moses got us this far, but the scent’s getting messy with the snowfall. This is the natural point when Thunder would take over anyway.”
Jake whistled, and Moses’s head came up. The canine looked at the trail and then at Jake. Then at the trail again.
Jake whistled a second time.
Moses came back this time, and Jake clipped his lead.
“You’re in good hands out here with Wyatt and Thunder,” Jake said.
“I know.” A hint of resignation filled Kori’s voice.
A few minutes later, Jake and Moses were out of sight.
Wyatt stepped beside her and looked at the marker. “Actually, this is where we agreed to stop. The trail is substantially harder after this.”
“We should keep going.” Her voice held no doubt.
He hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I can handle it. I can. Please. I’m not ready to turn around yet.”
Wyatt studied her face before turning toward the narrow path beyond the sign. “All right. But stay close. And don’t forget: The snow hides things.”