Page 32 of Fallen Creed

“No. But I have a loaner, and it’s quite toasty,” he said as he tugged on the sleeves. No amount of effort brought them any closer to his wrists. “And actually we’re out in the field right now. The snow is really pretty.”

“That’s probably what the Donner party said, too, right before they all froze to death. How’s Grace doing?”

“She wants to roll in it.”

Hannah laughed, and Creed smiled. He loved the melody of her laughter.

“She found several micro cards yesterday in a Shakespeare book and a cell phone in a cereal box.”

“Good Lord! There’s nothing that girl can’t find. Why are you in the field? Electronic devices buried in the ground?”

“No. We’re searching for a missing woman.”

“Dementia patient?”

“No. A young woman. There’s some concern that she may have run off to hurt herself.”

“I see.”

Both of them had lost someone to suicide. He waited out Hannah’s silence. In the distance, a train whistle sounded louder and closer this morning than he remembered yesterday.

“I won’t keep you,” she finally said. “Just checking in.”

“How’s Brodie doing?”

“Bored. Yesterday, I took her to Pensacola’s downtown library. I wish you could have seen her eyes. She’s got her tablet filled with ebooks, but I swear that girl can’t get enough.”

“I’m glad she’s getting braver about leaving our place.”

For months after Brodie came to live with them, she hadn’t wanted to be around other people. Even the thought of a room full of strangers threatened to bring on a panic attack.

“Rye? Be careful.”

“You know I always am.”

“I’m serious. You’re still healing.”

“I’m fine, Hannah.” He didn’t mind her fussing over him. They had been each other’s family for a long time, but he didn’t want her to worry. “Grace takes good care of me.”

The little dog’s ears lifted at the sound of her name.

“I know she does. But Rye, sometimes there isn’t a thing you could have done differently.”

“You’re talking about this missing woman?”

“I’m always saying you have the heart of a rescuer. You’ve been doing this for a long time. You don’t need me to remind you that you can’t rescue every lost soul.”

He knew she was right. He’d been on too many searches that had turned from rescue to recovery missions. But he’d let her say what she needed to say.

“And Rye, some don’t want to be rescued.”

“I know.”

The protein bar wrapper Grace had found stuck on a barbed wire fence was a telling sign. It was in the middle of a field. Recent. The paper hadn’t had time to weather or get dirty. It hadn’t been close to a road or ditch for a driver to discard. If the wrapper was Libby Holmes’, he couldn’t imagine she’d run off to kill herself, but was still trying to keep her strength up.

“We’re getting ready to cross the river,” he told Hannah. “We’ll take a quick look. If we don’t find anything, we’ll head back,” he promised.

“You’re crossing a river in the middle of a snowstorm?”