She met Jim outside his car with her hand extended. “Thanks for coming, Sergeant.”
A burly man with a shaved head that sported a police badge tattoo above his right ear, Jim Madsen reached to shake hands. Hers disappeared inside his big paw as he squeezed it. “I hope we can help,” he said in his Southern drawl.
Mattie introduced Stella and Brody and then began to explain their plan. “Brody and I can light you up in front and back if that’s the way you want to work this.”
Brody joined in with more detail. “We’ll also pull in a couple other vehicles to stop traffic and give you a buffer to work in. We can keep you inside a clear zone of about a mile.”
“However you want to do this is fine by me,” Jim said.
“I’ll have a deputy stop traffic in town now,” Brody said. “Sheriff McCoy will take care of it on this end.”
Mattie oriented Jim to the layout of the scene, pointing out the taped area where the vehicle had turned, the place Sophie exited the school bus, and how Robo had tracked her scent between the two spots.
Headlights pierced the darkness as the sheriff drove from the house. A passenger exited the car with him. Cole. The stress on his face caused the pain she’d been suppressing to flare. He came to stand at her side, the warmth from his body contrasting with the coldness she felt in her chest, while the sheriff greeted the sergeant.
“This is Dr. Cole Walker,” McCoy said, introducing Cole. “Sophie is his daughter.”
Cole stepped forward to shake hands with Jim. “Thank you for coming and bringing your dog,” he said, his voice low but solid, locking gazes with the rather intimidating sergeant. It was easy to see the strain he was under, and Mattie wondered how he was able to maintain his composure.
“We’ll do the best we can to find your little girl,” Jim said before turning away. “I’ll go get Banjo ready.”
Cole moved back to stand beside Mattie. Wanting to offer what little comfort she could, she did what she’d resisted earlier—she touched his forearm. Cole turned to her, his eyes haunted, and he shook his head slightly as if to say he couldn’t believe he was trapped in this nightmare. They both turned their attention back to Jim as he asked his dog to jump down from the back of the vehicle.
Banjo stood quietly in the light from Jim’s SUV, looking noble and ready to work in his red nylon tracking harness. He was a beautiful animal, with the black hair around his muzzle accenting his coppery-tan coat.
Jim patted him firmly on the side and then pulled him against his leg and rubbed him vigorously all over. That appeared to be Banjo’s signal that it was time to work, and he wagged his tail as he gazed up at his handler. Jim clipped a long lead onto the dead ring of the harness and spoke to Mattie. “We’re ready to rock and roll. You got a scent article for us?”
She took the bag from inside the pocket on her utility belt and handed it to him. Then she looked at Brody. “I’ll follow if you’ll take the lead.”
Brody nodded agreement and headed toward his cruiser.
Cole touched Mattie’s arm. “Can I ride with you?” he asked quietly.
His request surprised her. “Sure.”
He headed for the passenger side of her vehicle while Mattie exchanged a glance with the sheriff. Evidently he thought the arrangement was okay, since he didn’t protest.
“Detective LoSasso and I will set up the roadblock here. We’ll all meet back together when Sergeant Madsen has some answers,” McCoy said.
Cole waited beside her SUV until she got inside, and then he slid into the passenger seat. Robo turned away from watching Banjo to thrust his nose through the heavy-gauge mesh at the front of his cage to greet Cole. Putting his hand through the wire, Cole stroked Robo’s head and then turned to put on his seat belt. Robo bounced back to the side window again to get a bead on the other dog, and as Mattie shifted into gear and started to move the SUV into position behind Banjo and his handler, he continued to bob around, keeping the other dog in sight.
Cole sighed. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I know. I can’t either.” Mattie touched the back of his hand, and he turned his palm up to grasp hers. They exchanged glances before he released her hand so she could return it to the steering wheel.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t there to meet her bus.” Cole’s voice sounded thick with emotion and self-blame.
“I know how your schedule can get. Things pile up during the day. Your kids should be safe on your property.”
Cole shook his head, and Mattie didn’t know what else to say.
The scene took on an eerie glow as the red-and-blue overheads lit dog and handler from front and behind. Brody drove out onto the highway and parked, while the sheriff headed east to set up a roadblock. Mattie waited, parking her vehicle where her headlights wouldn’t blind Jim and Banjo while the handler oriented his dog to the search, offering him the scent article and using a sweeping gesture to indicate the area around the highway.
At first Banjo backtracked down the lane, where Sophie’s scent was fresh, but Jim brought him back patiently, patted and praised him, and gestured toward the highway again. Banjo quartered the area in a methodical way, sniffing the ground.
Cole sat beside Mattie and watched in silence, tension radiating from him in waves. When Banjo moved into the ditch alongside the highway and started to go slowly toward the west, Mattie realized she’d been holding her breath. Exhaling, she watched Brody pull out ahead and then waited for dog and handler to get about thirty feet down the road. She pulled into the highway behind them, her headlights giving Jim the light he would need to navigate the ditch bank.
“Do you think he has a scent trail?” Cole murmured.
“We’ll see.”
Then Banjo surged forward, making Jim break into a jog to follow. Mattie’s heart did a two-step. “Looks like he got a hit,” she said. She continued to drive behind them, keeping about thirty feet away.
Silhouetted by their headlights, Banjo and Jim moved down the highway toward Timber Creek. A sideways glance at Cole told Mattie he was on the edge of his seat, his hands fisted on his door’s armrest and on the console. After about a half mile, and as they neared the city limits, Banjo stopped his forward progress and began to quarter the area, moving from ditch to asphalt and back again. Jim swept the area with his flashlight for a minute, and then he set a wire spike with orange flagging tape into the ground beside the road before they moved on. But after about twenty feet, Banjo turned back and started searching the same area again.
Mattie’s heart seized. She recognized the dog’s behavior—he’d lost the trail he’d been following with such assurance. Something must have happened at this one spot to make him lose his confidence. Giving the bloodhound time to work, she waited until Jim waved her forward.
After cruising up to meet him, she stopped and rolled down her window.
“He’s lost the trail, but I’m certain he was on it until we hit this spot,” Jim said, his breath causing vaporous puffs in the cold night air.
“Yeah, he did look confident about it back there,” she said.
“I marked the spot, because there’s a tire track just off the shoulder, right beside the asphalt.”
“The vehicle pulled off the road?”
“Some vehicle did. I don’t know if it’s the same one that was at the doc’s place, but we need to find out.” Jim gestured toward the spot he’d marked. “If the vehicle pulled over here, something changed to reduce the flow of air from it. Maybe a window was rolled down before, and he pulled over here to roll it up? Just a guess, but something decreased the ventilation enough to extinguish the scent trail outside the vehicle. I’ll try a little farther down the road to see if Banjo can pick it up again.”