​Chapter One

Dannie’s phone rang with Susan Gray’s ringtone, triggering an increased heartbeat. Her mentor was the K9 search and rescue club president. She would only call if a search and rescue operation were necessary. The prospect of another search awakened vivid memories of the successful search for a missing Alzheimer’s patient just two weeks ago.

“Hi Susan, what’s up?”

“Dannie, the Sheriff’s office called. They’ve got a lost six-year-old at Punderson Lake campground. My dog has a leg problem and can’t trail. Are you and Forrest up for another search?”

“Yeah, you bet.” A lost kid. This is why she and her dog Forrest had trained for three years to earn the certifications as a K9 search team —a chance to save a life.

“Okay, we’ll meet at the campground. The Sheriff’s office is setting up a command center. We’ll have three or four civilian K9 teams and one from the sheriff’s office,” Susan replied.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She walked to the sliding glass door where the big bloodhound lay. “Hey Forrest, are you ready to work?” Forrest scrambled to his feet, ran to the door, and let out a howl of excitement.

***

It was a warm weekend for October, 70 degrees at 4:00 PM. Dannie drove into the campground parking lot, an anxious Forrest whining in the back of the SUV. Next to the large van that served as the Sheriff’s department command center, she noted the K9 search-and-rescue canopy, K9 SAR, in bold letters. Leashing Forrest, she walked to greet the other K9 teams. As she did, bile rose in her throat. Buzzards, not butterflies, raged in her gut. Was she good enough for this search? Was she up to the task? With one successful search behind her, she was still a rookie and the youngest member of the K9 search-and-rescue organization. If I’m going to stay on this team, I can’t screw this up.

“Hey, Dannie,” Susan Gray waved. Susan’s straw-yellow hair was tied in a ponytail. Her tan complexion and creases around her eyes suggested she spent a lot of time outdoors. “Glad you could make it.”

Dannie exhaled. Susan’s presence was comforting. “Always happy to have a search,” Dannie replied, hugging Susan. At six feet, Dannie was a head taller than her mentor.

“A six-year-old went missing between noon and one o’clock. Parents were napping in their camper, and he wandered off. They searched but could not find him, so they called the Sheriff. We’ve one area search team that has gone east and one that has gone west. The sheriff's K9 team is headed south out of the campground. There’s a trail to the north, and you can start Forrest there.”

“Good,” Dannie said. “Are you my support partner?”

“No. I have to stay by the command post.” Susan paused and put on a weak smile. “Ah, I’ve got you partnered with Spence Zalack.”

“Awesome,” Dannie said, rolling her eyes. “Have you trained with him? He’s so controlling. The new guy who knows everything.”

“He’s not that bad,” Susan said, pausing as if she expected a response from Dannie. “He’s our biggest donor. He mentioned a home in Michigan and a place in the Caribbean. He has a dog, and he shows up. Let the rich guy enjoy his hobby. You can do the real work.” Susan laughed.

“I just don’t like being told what to do.” Susan stared at her. “I mean, I don’t like him telling me what to do.” Expressionless, Susan nodded.

Dannie shrugged. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

Spencer Zalack came from behind the command center van. He waved a greeting and, approaching, said, “Hi Dannie. I guess I’m your support,” he said.

Dannie shook his hand and said, “Great,” thinking it wasn’t. His handshake was firm, and he looked directly into her eyes. He was Dannie’s height, and instead of the denim K9 SAR handler’s vest that Dannie and Susan wore, he wore a leather bomber jacket with a blue turtleneck sweater. His tailored khakis were paired with black leather boots; his light brown hair slicked back.

“Spence, here’s a topo map. Dannie, I know the information is sketchy but see if Forrest picks up a scent near the trailhead.” She handed Dannie a plastic bag. “Here’s your scent article, a sock. Stay in touch. It’s a late start. You have to be back by sundown, about seven fifty. Hopefully, we’ll find the boy. It’s going to drop below 40 degrees tonight. Questions?”

“No, got it,” Spence said.

Dannie nodded.

Three and a half hours. That’s all she had to put up with him. Teeth clenched, a knot in her stomach, she said, “Let’s go, Spence, not much light left.” As they crossed the parking lot to the trail, Dannie resolved to make things work for the sake of the search. “So, Spence, I never asked you why you got involved with K9 search and rescue.”

“I always liked dogs,” he said. “Then I saw this documentary about K9 search and rescue dogs, and I thought, that’s exactly what I want to do. When I looked into K9 search and rescue, it seemed that cadaver dog work was the most difficult and took the most training. I like the challenge. Since then, I realize that most searches are for living people. Tango and I still haven’t had an actual cadaver search. Just practice searches. So, I do a lot of team support, like today,” he paused, seeming to reflect. “And I like helping people. You know, getting out there and doing something instead of work.”

“What kind of work?”

“Oh, insurance, real estate, investments. Boring.”

As he talked, she realized that she might have pre-judged him. He seemed more cordial, almost affable. “I appreciate that support she said. “Trailing with a bloodhound would be hard for one person.”

“How about you, Dannie? Susan was bragging about how smart you are. An associate’s degree while in high school?”

“Oh, don’t believe Susan. I did get an AS in Computer Science. It wasn’t that hard.”

“And I hear, scholarship to Case Western University. Don’t tell me that wasn’t hard.”

“I’m lucky, Spence.” The discomfort of talking about herself distracted her from the work set out for them. I have to end this. “There’s the trail ahead. Let’s go find this kid.”

 

 

Chapter Two

At the trailhead, Dannie adjusted the search and rescue harness on Forrest. In the shade of the woodland, the temperature was already ten degrees cooler. She remembered him as a flop-eared puppy, a birthday gift from her mother and aunt when she turned fifteen. The dog stood motionless, riveted by three years of obedience and search and rescue training. She stroked the sleek red fur on his back.

“Okay, Forrest. You’re going to find the boy.” Opening a plastic bag, she put it to the dog’s nose so he could take in the scent of the missing boy from the sock inside. He pushed his nose deep into the bag. Inhaling and making a snuffing sound as he exhaled. The dog lunged forward, and she followed, keeping a light tension on the leash. He dropped his head to the ground as she urged him forward on the path. He lifted his head, casting right and left, air-scenting. Forrest veered right, downwind from the path, and plunged through thick undergrowth. Trust your dog, stay with him. He’ll find the scent.

The dog bayed and lunged, head high, tail up. He had an air scent. “Good dog, Forrest. Work.” She called back to her support partner, “Spence, he has the scent. He’s got the boy’s scent.”

Spence responded, “I’ll call it in to Susan.”

Forrest led them down the trail at a quick pace. Two miles in, Forrest took a turn off the trail and started down a shallow hill, then up to a forested crest. They descended the ridge, brush, and vines tearing at Dannie’s clothes. They climbed again, and the hillside steepened before them. Forrest was strong on the boy’s trail. Confidence rose, swamping the feelings of inadequacy and fear of failure. We’ll find the boy. Her lips formed a slight smile. With squared shoulders, her bearing reflected the change in outlook. The filtered light of the setting sun gave the topmost branches of oak and alder a yellow hue as the temperature continued to drop. Forrest’s quick pace had her panting. She pulled Forrest to a stop. “Easy, Forrest, easy.” Kneeling next to the dog, stroking his sleek coat, she surveyed the woodland as it darkened into shades of gray. Forrest’s heartbeat slowed. She stood, stepping out at a slower pace.

“Forrest, work.” The heavy breathing of her search and rescue support partner, Spence Zalack, broke her concentration. He was no match for her conditioning as a cross-country runner. He’d lagged on the last hill, but now he was on her heels.

He spoke up, “It’s seven o’clock, we’re three miles out of the campground. How could a six-year-old go this far?” He took a deep breath. “Dannie, we need to turn around. It’ll be dark before we get back. We’re supposed to be a team.”

Dannie gave him a cold, impatient look.

“Is Forrest even on the boy’s trail? We have rules. It’s time to turn back. Susan said to be back by dark.”

Rules. What good are rules if they keep us from finding the boy? She surveyed the slope ahead. How could a six-year-old get this far? Turning to Spence, she said, “I don’t know how he got this far, but Forrest is still on the boy’s scent, and the temperature must be down to sixty degrees.” She hoped Spence would shut up and stop his whining. It was her team. He was supposed to be a support. Now he was just a weight that held her back. Forrest pulled ahead.  Take charge. Ignoring her partner’s plea to turn around, Dannie turned down the next slope into the darkening Ohio woodland. The dog was following an air scent as the team topped a ravine. He paused, head turning side to side.

Spence caught up to her again, “Alright, I’m calling it,” he said, crossing his arms and blocking the path. “We need to turn around, now. We’ve been trailing this kid for almost four hours. We turn around now.”

“Forrest still has the scent.” Her eyes were fixed on the dog.

 “Damnit, Dannie, this is not safe. And I’m not a cross-country runner like you.”

 Her earlier, softening feelings toward him hardened as he tried to exert his will. He’s not a cross-country runner. He’s a wealthy, 36-year-old businessman who can afford special K9 search training for himself and his cadaver dog. He doesn’t even wear the K9 organization vest. He was sweating in his fancy leather jacket. He must hate having to support an eighteen-year-old girl.

“I get it, Spence. But we’re here to find the boy. That’s all that is important.” She brushed past him and pushed on.

She looked back and saw that his pace had slowed as though he was sulking like a petulant teenager. The search and rescue backpack holding their emergency supplies, water, and radio shouldn’t be a burden to his lean, six-foot frame. “Just down here and up that next ridge,” she said.  “Then we’ll call in. The boy can’t be far.”

“This is stupid. The next ridge, that’s it. We turn back. You’re a rookie. You don’t know what you are doing.”

The anger in Zalack’s voice was reflected in his face through clenched teeth, tightened jaw, and darkened eyes. His demeanor sapped her confidence. What if we don’t find him? What’s the right thing to do?

Forrest bayed and strained the lead, pulling her out of self-doubt and steeling her resolve. A lost kid isn’t cancer. She could save him.

“He’s on the boy’s trail,” she said. “The boy could die from exposure. No way we’re quitting now.” Forrest topped the ridge and started down a steep shale ledge. Sliding, slipping, and holding the dog back as best she could, she plunged down the hillside. Brush raked her hands and face as she landed hard on her right hip. The woodland now dark, she pulled a headlamp from her pack.

***

He lay his head against the girl’s leg. All the familiar scents were there: her soap, shampoo, the cotton of her vest, the denim slacks, and the sweat of effort. He felt the pulse of her blood and the tension in her muscles. And another scent that spoke to him of her excitement and anxiety.

Putting his nose to the trail, the ground scent was gone. There was pine, sod, thistle, and rotting wood, along with the presence of locusts, grubs, and hoppers mixed with other scents. Where was the smell of the boy, sweating and fearful? He breathed a thousand particles of dust, mold, moisture, and bacteria in the scent-laden air. The boy’s scent was absent in the myriad odors flooding his brain. “Good dog, Forrest. Work.” Her gentle urging melded with his hunting instinct, and he leaped forward.

A light breeze brushed the left side of his muzzle. He moved upwind, trotting through a grove of alder, warblers flitting in its emerald canopy. A pair of grey squirrels sprinted up an aging oak, chattering as they went. He crossed the trail of a raccoon and her young. He sought the boy among the scents, sounds, and sights of the woodland. Down a draw, across a creek, to a cutting ledge of shale – there it was – soap, cotton, and salty sweat wafting on the breath of a downhill draft. The boy was up, up the hill. He lunged into the wind, baying and straining the lead. Her voice broke into his canine consciousness. “Forrest. Easy. Good dog. Easy Forrest.”

One hundred ten pounds of muscle, sinew, and bone trembled as he relaxed under her calming voice. He paused, and the girl knelt beside him, arm around him. He took in her scent, a balm to his quivering body. Inhaling again, he snorted and shook with excitement. Dannie’s hand ran down his back, bringing a soothing, sensory presence. The smells of the boy, swirling ropes of color in his mind, enlivened all his senses. The command came, “Forrest, work.” He drove forward nose high. The boy's scent grew stronger. He pulled down the slope and, pushing through some dense brush, he bayed. He’d found the boy.

***

Dannie turned to Zalack, now well behind her. “Spence, we’ve got him. We found him. Radio in.” Gooseflesh prickled her arms as she sucked in a lungful of air. We’ve got him. Her headlamp illuminated the hillside, and the boy waved to Dannie, and she waved back. She broke into a run. Forrest pulled her to the boy’s side. “Hey Michael, how are you?” she asked, pulling a water bottle from her pack, twisting off the top, and handing it to him. A sense of lightness swept away the anxiety that had her body as tense as a bowstring. Tears of joy formed in her eyes, and she pressed her hand to her chest as if to keep her heart from leaping out. She pulled a towel from her backpack, wet it, and wiped dirt from Michael’s face. Behind her, Zalack spoke into his radio.

“I got lost. Am I in trouble?” Michael asked, his dirty face streaked with tears.

“No, you’re not in trouble. Your mom and dad are worried about you. We’re going to get you back to them real soon.” Her body shook as she held back a sob of joy.

Zalack spoke up. “Talked to the command center. I gave them our GPS coordinates.” The edge was gone from his voice. “They’re sending four-wheelers and an EMT team. They want us to wait here. They’ll take the kid out.” He paused and said, “That doesn’t change the fact that you broke the rules and you endangered us both.”

Forrest approached the boy and licked his face, as Dannie wrapped her arms around the big hound. Despite scrapes, scratches, and a bruised hip, she exhaled in relief as her tears wet Forrest’s fur. The boy’s safe. That’s all that matters.

 

 

Chapter Three

She examined her face in the mirror. The scratches from the search the week before had healed. But then there was her hair. “Damned hair.” Dannie swept her ebony hair over her shoulder, straining and tugging at her tangled curls, forcing each strand into a tight band and then again. She wove the bands together and pulled the long braid to one side, then to the other. Her half-Lebanese father had bequeathed her with the curly tangles she wrestled with. That and the thick eyebrows she worked regularly to, as she saw it, keep in their place. Well, I might have inherited dad’s hair and height, but at least I got mom’s legs.

She let the braid fall over her left shoulder, reaching almost to her waist. She moved on to eye makeup, brushing on a light shadow and applying eyeliner. Next, a slow, careful, and artful application of lipstick. She stared into the mirror, turned right and left. The bloodhound lying at her feet lifted his head and gave her what she came to call a ‘bloodhound smile.’  "What do you think, Forrest? Do I look good?" The bloodhound thumped his tail on the floor. "Thanks for a nod of the tail, old buddy." She reached down and stroked the dog’s smooth back, her constant companion for nearly four years.

Friday night dinner and a movie with Bradley Peterson. That curly blond hair and those blue eyes. “Forrest,” she said, “you have to meet Bradley. He’s hot.” They became attracted to each other at school events. She attended his soccer matches, and he attended her cross-country meets. Then lunched together every day. And now, a date with the captain of the school soccer team. She stood and examined the white mock turtleneck sweater, black slacks, and calf-length black boots. The heels were fine. Bradley was tall. She stepped over the big dog and walked to the kitchen, grabbing her jacket from the bed. "Hi, Mom," she greeted Laurie.

Her mother, Laurie, glanced up from her laptop. The faintest of wrinkles at the corner of her eyes belied her 42 years. She brushed her shoulder-length blonde hair from her face, revealing an elegant neckline and a graceful chin. She smiled at Dannie, “You are beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mom, but I think you're biased."

Laurie laughed. “So, what's the big plan for the night?

"Dinner and a movie. A movie and dinner. Something like that.”

“Aha, and the movie?

"Don't know. Letting Bradley pick it out."

"Oh, Dannie, you need date counseling. Never let the man pick out the movie unless you're in love with The Rock."

"Mom.” Dannie sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Where are you going to eat?”

“I dunno.”

"Child, I raised you better. You have to set standards. You'll eat at the Royal Buffet. Create expectations, let him know you're not a cheap date."

“Heck, Mom, I am. I like the Royal Buffet.”

“Good lord, girl, you’re hopeless.”

Forrest wandered into the kitchen, leaned against Dannie, and slid to the floor. “Mom, I need a lint roller. I’m not taking this dog’s fur coat with me on a date.”

Laurie reached into a drawer and tossed her a roller. “Trust me, he’s not going to notice dog hair.”

Car lights flashed through the living room window. “Bradley’s here, got to go."

 

She hopped down the front stairs. “Hey, Bradley.” Stepping into the cool evening breeze, she took in the musky smell of the decaying leaves covering the yard.

Bradley smiled and replied in kind, “Hey." She embraced him and then pulled away, that tingling sensation dancing across her skin.

“Movie first, then something to eat?” he said.

“Sure.”

Bradley slipped into the driver's side. "You told me to pick a movie, so how about ‘The Light Between the Oceans’?" His voice was expectant, as if he was seeking approval.

“What’s it about?”

"I read the review. It’s a love story about a young couple in a remote lighthouse in Australia who find a baby and raise it as their own."

 “Love it, let’s go.” Oh, Mom, you missed that one.

Bradley backed out of the driveway. “How’s that bloodhound of yours?”

“The same. Big, and goofy, and funny, and full of energy.”

" I heard how you two found that boy who got lost. He must be a great dog if you two work together in search and rescue. "

“You think so?”

A smile lit his face. “Yeah. I'm dating you because I want to be around your dog.”

She laughed. Dating. Hadn’t thought of it that way. “Oh, I was wondering what your motive was. If you like him, you can help me with training.”

“Sure,” Bradley seemed to brighten. “I’d love to. What can I do?”

“I always need new victims.” Dannie tilted her head, smiling, forefinger twirling the end of her braid.

“Victims?” Bradley’s brow furrowed as he glanced at her.

"Sure, Forrest and I need to practice. A pretend victim leaves a trail, and I have to get Forrest to follow it. We do regular practice searches to keep up the skills we need. Carrie’s been my victim sometimes. I even used my mom once. "

“So, what do I do? Do I go with you and Forrest?”

“No. You have to lay a trail without the dog or me, and then later, I bring Forrest and have him follow the trail. Simple.”

 “I see.” He paused a moment then said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Great, we’ll do it on Little Mountain, okay?”  

He nodded. “Sure, I know it. When?”

"I don't want to push, but if you lay out the trail tomorrow morning, I could run Forrest on Sunday. But any time.” Did I push too hard? Should have asked him when it was convenient.

“Okay. Great. What time?”

"I mean, you don't have to. You’re busy tomorrow, I’m sure."

"Nope, just going to work out. A run on the mountain would be a good workout. Can I run?"

"You sure can." She took his hand in hers. "Thanks, Bradley, that’s sweet of you." Bradley drove the rest of the way to the theater with one hand on the wheel.

 

Bradley chose Compadres Grill for dinner.

After they ordered, Bradley said, “So tell me, Dannie. Why search and rescue?

She pursed her lips, took a breath, and said, “So many reasons.” She tilted her head, images of the past four years playing through her mind. “Forrest, of course,” she said, smiling across the table at Bradley. He’s a natural. From the time he was a puppy, he had his nose to the ground.”

“I like the challenge of a search. It’s exciting. You know how you feel before a big soccer match?”

“Yeah, I get all worked up. Excited, and there’s this anticipation. My head’s in the game before it starts.”

“Same with me, and Forrest gets it too. When I put his vest on, he gets anxious, excited, and starts prancing around. And when he’s on a scent,” she leaned over the table, “I can feel him through the tension on the least. It’s like we’re connected.” His face brightened by a smile, Bradley leaned forward, eyes locked on Dannie’s. “I know when he picks up a scent and when he loses it. It’s an amazing feeling.”

Bradley reached and took her hand. “You are amazing.”

“Stop. No, don’t, flattery will take you a long way.” They laughed together.

For another hour, she spoke of school, her dad, and her mom. A waiter came and cleared their table. Dannie looked at her watch. "Oh my gosh, it's 11:30. I've been talking and talking. I'm so sorry; I should have shut up."

“No, I enjoyed it,” he said, squeezing her hand as they slid from the booth. Bradley managed to open the restaurant and car doors with one hand, letting go as he closed her door. Both wiped their sweaty palms.

As they pulled into Dannie’s driveway, she said, “Meet me here at 8:00 AM, and I’ll show you how to lay a trail.”

“I’ll be there.” Stopping the truck, Bradley seemed unsure of what to do.

"Dannie squeezed his hand, the other gripping the truck door. Slowly, she leaned in, meeting him half-way across the cab and pressed her lips to his. A flush of warmth wafted through her body, a sense of excitement and sensuality. Immersed in the sensations coursing through her, the tingling skin, racing heart, she didn't shy away as he pulled her closer. Her lips parted as she pulled in a breath, and then with a rush, every part off her body ignited. As Bradley kissed her, lights flashed behind her closed eyelids, and giddy dizziness swept over her.

Breathless and flushed, she pulled away. Their eyes lingered on one another, smiling nervously as she said, "Goodnight."

Dannie slid from the seat and walked back up to the house, glancing back at him as he drove away."

She stepped into the house, leaned against the door, pulled her phone from her purse, and texted Carrie.

“Hey, you up?”

 “Did he kiss you?”

“I kissed him.”

"Oh, you tramp."

“Whatever, girlfriend. I loved it.”

“Tell me more,” Carrie begged. “I want the ‘deep’ facts.”

“You are so bad. He was great. Such a gentleman.”

“Cut with the gentleman crap, how’d he kiss?”

“Let’s just put it this way. I started it, he finished it. Wow.”

“Details, girl.”

“Forget you, Carrie. Call you tomorrow. I’m going to bed.”

She clicked off, still tasting his kiss and the scent of his cologne, wandered, smiling, to her bedroom.

 

Chapter Four

She sat, elbows resting on the kitchen counter, watching the clock tick by slowly. Should leave mom a note. She took a notepad from a drawer and scribbled a note. Five minutes after eight o'clock, Bradley pulled into the driveway. Dannie took a deep breath, her skin going all tingly again. Her heart beat as if she were in his arms. "Whoa, girl,” she said aloud, “get a grip. Breathe. Okay, this is weird. I'm weird. Get control. We're just going to train my dog. Just set a trail. It's just training. It's just for Forrest." At his name, Forrest turned to her. "Hey, thanks for your help. Good dog, Forrest." Another deep breath, and she grabbed her pack, heading out the door, her mom still in her room. Forrest stood at the window and bayed.

Bradley jumped from the truck as Dannie came outside. They hugged, and he opened her door. "What's in the backpack?"

“It’s all my search and rescue stuff. I have the bag with all the towel pieces for you. You set the trail today, and I’ll take Forrest tomorrow. I want him to work a day-old trail.”

"Okay, let's do this. I’m feeling like a victim today." Less than two miles down Little Mountain Road, Bradley pulled the truck to the shoulder, where there was a small trail. "So, this is where I get lost?" he asked as they exited the truck.

"Yep, this is it. You’re a little boy who slipped away from your parents, and off you've gone into the woods. Now it’s up to Forrest to save your skinny butt from the mud and mosquitoes.”

At the trailhead, Dannie brought out the bag with the squares of cotton towel. She put on a plastic glove and extracted one of the cotton squares. "I need a scent article for Forrest." Reaching up, she stroked his face with the cotton towel. Bradley grinned. She slid the cotton square to his chin and caressed his neck.

“I’ll give you an hour to cut that out.”

 "Maybe later." Laughing, she handed Bradley the bag of cotton squares. "Now you don't have to use all these. Once every hundred yards or so to begin, and then every two hundred yards. Have you been here before?"

“No, but I heard about Little Mountain. Isn’t there an old house or something up there?”

"No, just an old foundation. The building burned down long ago. The trail is good, it’s not confusing. Keep going up."

“Okay, got it.”

“Once you get to the top, there is a trail coming off to the east, just follow that downhill. Do you have a compass on your phone?”

“Yeah, sure.”

"So follow the trail east, and you will end up on Hermitage Road, near Girdled Road. It should take you an hour and a half."

He handed her his truck keys.

"You be careful,” she said. “We'll get something to eat when you get back. Remember, rub the cloth on your skin, spit in it, heck, pee in it, I don't care."

"Okay, I’ll smell up the whole mountain." Dannie kissed his cheek, and he turned, jogging into the woods. Nice butt, she thought, watching him until he was out of sight. She walked to the truck.

An hour and a half later, Bradley emerged from the woods on the opposite side of Little Mountain. He was panting and sweating, and his pants were mud-covered, but he was smiling. "Hey, great workout."

“You’re a mess,” she said

“Thank you. I worked hard to look like this."

"We need to clean you and feed you.”

“Okay, whatever you say, boss.”

 

Chapter Five

Dannie rolled out of bed. Sunday morning. She smiled as she went to the fridge for juice, Bradley on her mind. Sunday morning was her mother’s sleep-in day. Dannie picked around the kitchen for breakfast, eating a banana and half a muffin. Forrest stretched on the bed. "Okay, big guy, time to go." He didn't move. She walked to the kitchen, grabbing her backpack and his working harness. Returning to the bedroom, she held them up. Forrest pawed his way from the bed, throwing covers behind him. She dashed ahead of him to the kitchen. He took some food, but his excitement apparently erased any sense of hunger or thirst.

Forrest sat in the back seat as she drove the short distance to the trailhead, where she would drop the SUV. Had she told her mom where she was going this morning? It wasn’t a problem. She would be home soon.

Approaching a sharp curve on Little Mountain Road, she noticed a black sedan backed into a field, just beyond the shoulder. Never noticed a car parked there before. As she topped a slight rise, she could see the black sedan in her rear-view mirror. Then it dropped out of sight.

***

He watched her for a long time. She had matured, beautiful, and perfect. In tight jeans, she was sensuous; in shorts, she took his breath away. Her skin was unblemished and unspoiled.

His fantasies grew, and he focused on his plan. Nothing would happen spur of the moment. His strength of will and mind were superior.

He changed rental cars every week and parked just off the paved road at a gate marked "No Trespassing," a mile and a half from the house. Once or twice a week, he used this spot and another just south of her house. When she didn’t drive by, he contented himself with his fantasies, and he planned the hunt and the capture with precision. How many times was it now? Was it five or six? This one will be faultless as well.

She drove by, and he pulled out behind her.

***

Parked at the trailhead, she let an excited Forrest stretch and relieve himself. She harnessed the dog and shook off a chill, the morning sun still behind the mountain. A slight downhill breeze moved the multi-color leaves of oak, elm, and alder. She slipped Bradley's scent article from her backpack. Forrest pranced in anticipation of the search.

Dannie held the bag to him, and he pushed his long snout in. "Forrest work." He leapt toward the trailhead. Nose to the ground, falling into his rhythm of cantering left to right, right to left. In seconds, he was on the trail. The dog’s intensity telegraphed through the lead, catalyzing a visceral rush through Dannie’s body. The hunt was on, and her focus matched the dog's focus. His tail swung high. Nose to the ground, Forrest moved into the woods. In one hundred yards, he stopped and sat. She moved to his side to see the white cotton cloth. Forrest looked up, tail wagging. "Good dog, Forrest," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out treats. He gobbled them down while she used a plastic bag to collect the cloth. “Good dog, Forrest, good dog.” Then, “Forrest work.”

***
 

In black clothing and a black knit cap, he slipped from his car at the shoulder of the road. He jogged to the trailhead, then past Dannie’s SUV. As Dannie and Forrest moved up the mountain, the man followed. He pushed through the brush just off the trail, staying low. It was exhilarating. His every sense was focused on the girl. He would get closer. The girl was ahead of him, but in his mind, he was on her, touching her, smelling her. He had planned to stalk her, but this was perfect: the woods, the isolation, and the morning mist. His hunger took over, and soon, he became obsessed with having her. In total confidence, he moved ahead, his heart now pounding from both effort and excitement.

***

Dannie took Forrest through a half dozen scent articles. Forrest was spot on the trail. He reacted to each scent article, sitting and turning to her. As Dannie had instructed Bradley, the cloths were at 200-yard intervals. Reaching the fourth, she stopped to rest and poured Forrest some water. She drank, and as she did, she calmed down from the hunt, becoming more aware of her surroundings. The trees here had thick trunks and broad crowns. The woodland floor was littered with old tree trunks in various states of decay. Between the fallen logs were tangles of honeysuckle, witch hazel, and laurel, their leaves moving in the downslope breeze.

The silence was calming until a noise came from behind her. Forrest alerted and growled, head down. She turned and scanned the trail. Nothing. Still, she shuddered.

"What do you hear, boy? Something out there?" Forrest sat staring down the trail. Heavy clouds obscured what little sun broke through the tree canopy, leaving the woodland thick and brooding. A realization of her isolation drained the enthusiasm of the training search. Surveying the woodland again, she clenched her hands, rubbing palms against each other. It seemed like such a good idea; take Forrest two miles into an isolated woodland and two miles out. Now she wasn’t sure it was the best idea she had ever had. Should’ve had someone else set the trail and then have Bradley come with her and Forrest. Yeah. That made more sense. Forrest nudged her hand, the touch relieving the sense of isolation. Forrest finished his water, she packed his bowl, and commanded, "Forrest, work."