Tracking Justice. Shirlee McCoyЧитать онлайн книгу.
of hours ago, the scent trail diluted by time and forest life, but giving up wasn’t an option. Not now. Not an hour from now. Until Brady was home, Austin would keep searching.
Slow. That’s the way they were moving, circling one area after another as Justice nosed the ground. Eva didn’t say another word. No questions. No idle chatter. She just followed along, stayed out of the way, and let Austin and his bloodhound do their job. She wanted to run, though. Race past them both screaming Brady’s name. Hoping he would answer.
Dim light filtered through the tree canopy, the first rays of the rising sun breaking through the forest’s gloom. The area felt empty, Justice’s soft huffs seeming to fade into the expanse of wilderness that surrounded them. They moved up a steep ridge, crisscrossing the leaf-strewn ground as Justice searched for the trail. He paused, nose to the air, body taut. One quick bark and he strained against the leash, his powerful body plowing through thick foliage.
“Do you think he’s found Brady?” Eva panted as she shoved through a tangle of tree branches. Her hair snagged on a twig, and she yanked away, her eyes tearing from pain, her pulse humming with hope and fear.
“He’s found the scent again. How far we’ll be able to track it is hard to say.” Austin’s answer was brief, his breathing unlabored. He didn’t even look winded, his long legs eating up the ground as he followed Justice.
“I can’t believe that Brady walked this far.”
And she didn’t want to picture all the ways that he might have gotten there if he hadn’t walked. Carried? Dragged?
“I’ve tracked kids that have walked farther.” Another brief answer. Fine. If Austin still wanted silence, she’d give it to him.
She didn’t speak again as they crested the ridge and ran down the other side. Justice stopped at the bottom, and Eva’s heart stopped with him. If he lost the trail, would he find it again?
Justice barked, his body seeming to vibrate with energy as he strained against the leash. They were heading into hill country, the woods deepening, the feeling of being cut off from time and place growing. They ran along the edge of a steep ravine, following a game trail that wound its way through the forest. No sign of anyone or anything, but Eva was sure they were being watched. Unseen eyes staring out of the shadowy woods and tracking their movements.
A branch snapped to their right, and Austin stopped, pulling Justice up short and issuing a sharp command for the dog to cease. His dark hair gleamed in the early-morning sunlight, his hard face shadowed with the beginnings of a beard. If Eva had been alone in the woods and seen him, she’d have walked the other way.
He gestured her over, pressing his finger to his lips as she moved in close.
Another branch snapped and Eva tensed, sure that someone would step out of the woods.
Silence fell. Thick. Heavy. Expectant.
Austin pulled back his jacket, his hand falling to the gun belt at his waist, his icy gaze scanning the forest. Justice stood beside him, hackles raised, body stiff. What did he sense? A bear? A deer? A person?
Several minutes passed and Justice relaxed, settling onto his haunches, his floppy ears whipping as he shook his sturdy body.
Gone. Whatever had been in the trees, but Eva still felt the threat, still wondered what or who had been watching.
“Let’s go,” Austin said, issuing a command for Justice to seek. The dog jumped up, nose to the ground, energy pouring through his body. Seconds later he barked, straining against the leash as he led them up a steep incline.
They ran up another hill, plunged down it again. Wove their way through trees and up to a cliff that overlooked the forest, following a path that seemed disjointed and erratic. A trail laid by a frantic, scared little boy?
Dear God, she hoped so.
She wanted to crest the next rise, round the next tree, see Brady standing there waiting for her.
She tripped, slid a few feet forward on her hands and knees, the earth near the cliff’s edge crumbling and falling away. A thirty-foot drop, at least. Her heart jumped, and she scooted back.
“Careful.” Austin appeared at her side, tugged her upright, his hands on her waist. There. Gone. So quickly she should barely have felt them. She did, though, his touch burning deep, reminding her of things better forgotten. Her cheeks heated, but there wasn’t time to think about it or to care.
Justice scrambled up a steep hill, his paws churning up leaves and dirt. Austin followed easily, grabbing tree branches and fists full of foliage as he fought his way to the top. Eva slipped and slid behind them.
Austin grabbed her hand as she neared the top, tugging her onto a ridge that overlooked the forest. A mountain of foliage shot up to the right. To the left, the ground fell away. A hundred feet below the trees huddled close, their winter-bare branches revealing glimpses of the forest floor.
Not a safe place for a seven-year-old boy, and Eva’s heart jolted with panic.
“What if he fell?” she whispered, the words barely carrying past the lump in her throat.
“He didn’t. Justice is still locked on to his scent. Come on.” Austin let the dog pull ahead again, and they skimmed the edge of the cliff, the slippery leaves and loose dirt slowing their progress.
Eva glanced into the abyss to the left, her head swimming as she imagined Brady falling head over heels.
Please, God. Let him be okay.
A fat branch slapped her cheek, the stinging pain barely registering past the hollow thud of her fear. She felt sick with it, her stomach and chest tight, her breathing labored. Everything she loved was wrapped up in Brady.
Austin stopped short and she ran into his back, her feet slipping on thick leaves as she tried to catch her balance.
He snagged her arm, pulling her forward as he crouched near Justice. The dog whined excitedly, his deep bark breaking the morning stillness.
“Release,” Austin said, and Justice backed away, dropping down beneath a thick-trunked oak and panting heavily.
“Look at this.” Austin pointed to something half-hidden by leaves and dirt. At first Eva couldn’t make out what it was. White and gray and brown fuzz covered by forest debris. A splash of bright blue.
“Is it an animal?” she asked, leaning closer, the truth suddenly right there in front of her face. Blue plastic eyes, a shiny black nose, white fluffy face.
“A stuffed animal,” he responded.
“Snowflake! Brady must have brought it with him.” She reached for it, and he captured her hand, gently pulling it back.
“It’s evidence, Eva. We don’t want it contaminated.” He lifted the stuffed dog with a gloved hand, tucked it into a plastic bag he pulled from his pack.
“He was here! Brady was here!” She stood, whirling around, frantically searching for some other sign that her son was close.
“Yeah. And it looks like he was alone this time. Look.” Austin pointed to a small footprint in the dusty earth. Bare. Every toe clearly defined. Another was just a few inches away. No sign of boot prints like the ones at the creek.
That was good.
Right?
“He must be terrified.” She wanted to cry but couldn’t let the tears come.
“I’m going to radio in and get the other search teams to the area. We’ll do better consolidating our efforts. Drink this while I get people organized.” He handed her an energy drink, poured water into a small dish for Justice.
Maybe Eva should have opened her energy drink, drank it up as quickly as Justice lapped up his water. But she felt too sick, her head throbbing endlessly, her stomach churning. Worry beat a rapid pulse through her blood, and she wanted to sit down and close her eyes. Open them again and find