Tracking Justice. Shirlee McCoyЧитать онлайн книгу.
knew she would be. Even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t admit it.
“Come on, boy,” he urged, and Justice lumbered to his feet. “Seek!”
Justice took off, barking wildly.
Close.
They were close.
Austin felt it in the tension on the lead, the way Justice’s muscles pulled taut. The bloodhound wanted to get to the end of the trail, wanted to find the person they were seeking, wanted it more than he wanted to sleep or eat or play. That’s what made him a great search-and-rescue dog, his prey drive completely refocused into a stunning display of canine determination.
They crested one more rise, plunged down into a ravine, the ground slick with mud and dead leaves. Justice bayed once and again, frantically clawing at the ground in an effort to move more quickly.
A dozen yards ahead, a rocky outcrop sheltered a small pool of stagnant water. Beyond that, Austin could make out thick foliage partially hiding what looked like the opening of a cave. Six feet high and maybe four feet wide, it was the perfect hiding place for a scared little boy. His heart lurched, and he unhooked Justice. Let him race ahead, his frantic alerts ringing through the cool dawn.
“Is that a cave? He’s there, isn’t he? Brady! Brady!” Eva ran toward the cave, and Austin snagged the back of her coat, pulling her up short.
“Wait here while I check things out.”
“Check what out? He’s there. Justice is going crazy trying to tell us that.”
“I know, but I need to go in first. We heard gunfire earlier, and I don’t want you in the middle of more of it,” he said.
“He’s in there. I know he is.” She tried to twist away, but he kept hold of her coat.
“We don’t know—”
“He’s there.” She looked into his eyes, and he saw hope in the depth of her gaze. Saw it in her face.
He wanted to believe that it was justified, but there was no telling what he’d find in the cave. As much as Austin wanted to think they were running toward a live rescue, things might not turn out that way. He didn’t want Eva to find her son’s lifeless body. Didn’t want her to see what he’d seen too many times.
Maybe she saw that in his face.
She stilled, her green eyes staring into his, her long gold lashes sweeping her cheek and brow. She had eyes like her son’s. He felt the weight of the picture that he’d tucked into his coat pocket. Felt the weight of her dreams and hopes piled on his shoulders.
“You think he might be dead,” she rasped, and he couldn’t deny it.
“Wait here,” he said again, letting go of her coat and running toward the cave.
Thick muck sucked at his boots and splashed up his pant legs, the stagnant pool of water shallow and brown. Eva splashed through it behind him. Obviously unwilling to listen to his request.
He reached the cave a few steps ahead of her, ducked down and moved into dank blackness, following the sound of Justice’s fading barks. A few large rocks butted against the side of the cave, and he skirted around them. From there, the opening narrowed until Austin’s shoulders brushed the walls. Even crouched, his head touched the ceiling. He maneuvered sideways for several minutes, but short of shrinking down to child-size there was no way he could go farther.
“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?” Eva pressed in as if she wanted to shove him out of the way and hunt for Brady herself.
“It’s too narrow. Going farther wouldn’t be safe.”
“I’m smaller than you. Let me go.”
“We’ll both have to back out first. No way can you squeeze past me.”
“Okay.” She backed up and he followed, his headlamp flashing on dark gray rock and moist brown earth. The cave went deeper than he’d expected, curving to the left, whatever lay behind the curve hidden in darkness.
Justice’s long howl echoed against the walls, bouncing through the darkness, and Austin snagged Eva’s hand. “Hold on! Justice is alerting. He’s found something. Try calling your son.”
“Brady? It’s Mom. Are you in there?” Eva called past the lump of terror and hope in her throat. What if he was there, but couldn’t answer? What if he was injured or...
“Momma?” The word was faint, but she heard it. Wanted to climb straight through Austin to follow the sound.
“Yes. It’s me. I have Snowflake, too. I found him out in the woods while I was looking for you. Come on out, and we can all go home together.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but she was so relieved, so thankful, her body felt weak with it.
“I can’t.” He was crying. She could hear the tears in his voice, and if the walls hadn’t been pressing so tight, if Austin hadn’t been wedged so firmly into the opening, she would have gone to her son.
“Ask him if he’s stuck, and ask him if there’s a dog with him,” Austin urged.
“Are you stuck, sweetie?”
“I’m lost. I got inside here, but I can’t get out. It’s too dark.”
“Is there a dog with you, Brady?”
“Yes, but I didn’t pet him.”
“Those are the rules for normal times, but for today, you can pet the dog. He’s special. Like Captain Slade’s dog.”
“Are you hurt, Brady? Can you walk?” Austin called out.
“Momma, are you still there? Who’s that with you?” The fear in his voice was unmistakable, and her heart ached for everything he’d been through, her arms aching to pull him close, let him know that he was finally safe.
“A police detective. He and his dog have been helping me find you. Are you hurt?”
“No, and I can walk, too. And I petted the dog. He’s soft...and he licked my face.”
“His name is Justice,” Austin said. “Do you feel the harness on his back?”
“Yes.”
“If you hold on to that, Justice will lead you all the way out of the cave.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. Are you holding on?”
“Yes.”
“Justice, come!” Austin ordered, and then nudged Eva. “Let’s head out where there’s more room to maneuver.”
“But—”
“Justice found your son, Eva. Are you really not going to trust him to lead him out of the cave?” he asked as his radio crackled.
No. She wasn’t going to trust him. Not if she had a choice. Trust was something given and then broken. She’d found that out one too many times. She backed up, anyway because the last thing she wanted was for all of them to get stuck in the cave because she’d succumbed to fear.
Austin’s voice rumbled into the darkness as he called in their coordinates and asked for a rescue unit. Eva tried to let his words comfort her. If he was calling for transportation, he must believe that Brady and Justice would make their way out.
Sunlight speckled the dirt floor near her feet, and she stopped, cold, crisp air swirling around her ankles. She pressed a hand to Austin’s back, stopping him before they collided. Firm muscle contracted beneath her palm, and she pulled her hand away, her heart thumping painfully.
Brady. He was all that mattered, and he hadn’t appeared yet. Hadn’t called out again.
“Brady?” she called, but he didn’t answer. “What if—”
“He’s