Where is a dog treat when I need one!
Taking slow and cautious steps, Cole moved from behind his shelter and began to inch his way down the cliff face, hanging on to shrubs and branches for balance. All the time, he babbled in German, saying any words that came to mind heavily interspersed with “good boy.”
Bruno watched him, now looking more curious than confused. Cole tamped down his fear as he drew closer to the dog, because he knew the animal could sense it. Instead, he thought of Sophie’s lighthearted trust and tried to duplicate it. When he reached a prominence directly above the dog, he tried a different command. “Bruno, platz.”
The Doberman went into a down position.
What is the word for stay? He couldn’t remember. Falling back on the tried and true, he repeated the word for ‘down’ as he continued to ease his way along the rocky cliff. Each step on his swollen ankle sent jolts, but he kept going and soon was on an equal level with the dog, about eight feet away. Bruno watched him without waver, looking eager and expectant. Cole decided he needed to give the dog some form of reward, because it looked like that was what he obviously wanted.
“Komm,” Cole said, at the same time using the hand gesture for “come.” “Komm hier!”
Bruno leaped to his feet and ran straight at him, causing Cole to almost go into cardiac arrest. But the Doberman scurried to sit right in front of his feet and looked up into his eyes with excitement. Cole bent forward and extended a hand for Bruno to sniff. The dog dismissed it, still eagerly waiting for a treat. Cole stroked the top of his head and then patted his side.
Giving Bruno lots of loving strokes and crooning to the dog in German, Cole gingerly reached for the e-collar and slipped it off. Bruno showed no objection whatsoever. Looking up at the perch on the cliff that he’d abandoned, Cole heaved the collar up toward the ledge. The collar bounced off the rock face, skittered downward, and lodged in the branches of scrub cedar—unseen from below.
Couldn’t be better. He patted the dog and hugged him close to his leg, telling him what a good boy he was. He scanned the forest, feeling the urgency of desperation. Befriending Bruno was a major accomplishment, but he still had Carmen and that crossbow to contend with. Deciding to head across slope opposite the direction from which Bruno had come, Cole patted his left leg. “Bruno, ferse.”
Bruno fell into heel position as Cole finished the last descent and jogged off as fast as his swollen ankle would allow.
When Robo stopped at the edge of the stream and sniffed up and down its bank, Mattie knew that Cole had taken to the water. That’s exactly what she would have done if she were in his shoes. Robo leaped over the water and sniffed along the bank on the other side, tentatively heading upstream. It was the first time he’d hesitated since he’d taken to Cole’s trail. Robo nosed the foliage along the bank, tracking Cole’s scent slowly and carefully upslope. She hoped his effort to mask his route had been enough to throw the Doberman off his trail.
Although she grew impatient to move forward at a faster pace, Mattie let Robo do his work. He continued to give the tall grass a thorough sniff as they moved upward. At times willows and boulders blocked their path, forcing Mattie and Brody to circle around or enter the stream. Robo either edged along the stream or took to the water. When he splashed into the creek, she followed him, the frigid liquid filling her boots and numbing her feet. Brody stayed close at her back.
They toiled upward. Her breath quickened, and she could hear Brody heaving for air behind her. Robo worked the trail, seeming more and more sure of himself. After what felt like a lifetime, they came upon a dead deer with a short, metal arrow lodged in its rib cage behind its front shoulder. The ugly bolt matched the one in Juan Fiero. Gooseflesh tingled along her spine, and it wasn’t from the icy water that squelched in her boots.
Robo continued upstream but then turned to go back, sniffing furiously along both sides of the bank.
He’s lost the trail. And Cole must have left the water. Trying to think like Cole, she scanned the banks for tracks. Nothing in the rocky shale. Robo must have had the same idea, but he was using his nose, sniffing in widening arcs that brought him over to the decomposing deer. He scurried back and forth with his nose to the ground, moving away from the water. Soon, he headed across slope with greater determination. Mattie and Brody filed into place behind him.
They trooped along, Robo picking up speed. She assumed the scent trail had become stronger here. They jogged through stands of timber and across open spaces. Mattie snatched glances of the surrounding terrain even while she watched her step, placing her feet carefully to avoid ankle-turning stones. They were approaching a cliff face when she noticed the hackles at Robo’s neck rise.
“Robo, wait,” she said in a quiet voice.
He stopped in place, throwing a glance at her over his shoulder. She could swear he was asking, What for?
Brody stopped a mere twelve inches behind her. “What?” he said, matching her quiet tone.
Mattie spoke in a near whisper. “Robo’s hackles are raised. He knows Cole Walker. I don’t think he’d do that with him. There must be someone else ahead on the trail. Proceed with caution.”
Brody was already holding his rifle ready. “Right.”
“Robo, search.” Mattie followed him as he lowered his nose to the scent trail.
Through the pine, she spotted a small clearing with a cliff face beyond. Robo pushed forward, his neck bristling. She placed a hand on his Kevlar vest, grabbing hold of a strap sewed to its back, and slowed him down. She wanted to avoid breaking out into the open space without seeing what it contained first.
Brody stayed at her back, slightly to the side. “There,” he whispered. Evidently his height and position made it possible to spot something. Crouching, he pointed.
Mattie reacted at once, getting low and stepping to the side. She peered through a break in the trees in the direction Brody indicated. Carmen Santiago stood at the base of the cliff face pointing a wicked looking crossbow up at it, a bolt loaded and ready to shoot. Mattie scanned the area above Carmen but could see nothing.
Carmen raised a hand holding an oblong object and pointed it upward toward the ledge.
“What’s that?” Brody whispered.
“Looks like a remote for a dog collar,” she whispered back.
“What’s she doing?”
“I don’t know. Where’s the dog?”
“I don’t see him.”
“She must have lost him,” Mattie whispered, watching Carmen continuously press and repress a button on the remote. “She’s signaling him. She thinks he’s up there.”
Brody straightened and scanned the area, stooping low again when he finished. “I don’t see a dog.”
“Do you know anything about that crossbow?”
“They’re powerful. No safety. She can sight down the scope and pull the trigger in a split second.”
“Reloads easily?”
“No. It would take some effort. Might take fifteen seconds,” Brody said.
“Do you think she has a gun?”
“Can’t tell.”
Mattie locked eyes with Brody for a few seconds. “I want to take her alive. She’s got a lot of questions to answer.”
“Agreed.” His face was grim. “But I won’t let her take another life.”
Mattie nodded. Brody could easily hit a target with his rifle at up to one hundred yards. The use of deadly force would be permissible if Carmen was trying to kill one of them, including Robo. Would he jump at the chance to take out the woman who killed his girlfriend?