Page 50 of Chasing Creed

He released her onto the ground, clicking the leash to her search vest. He offered her a drink of water. Grace took a lick only to satisfy him then tap-danced impatiently, wanting to get to work. She poked her nose in the direction of his daypack, a bad habit she’d learned from Scout. By the time he yanked out Kyle’s ball cap, Grace was on her back feet, pedaling her front ones and trying to sniff at the cap.

“Grace, this is Kyle.”

Creed preferred putting a name to the scent. Yesterday they weren’t able to do that. As it turned out, it was a good thing they hadn’t. The scents they presented to the dogs were a wipe from the steering wheel and an anonymous dirty sock. Now they knew those items included enough of the woman’s scent to lead both dogs to her body.

This time, he could be certain the ball cap Lydia had given him had Kyle’s scent. It didn’t matter if Kyle hadn’t worn it for days or even weeks. It would still have his scent from his hair and his skin rafts embedded in the fabric.

Grace buried her twitching nose inside the bowl of the cap, snorting deep down. She moved to the sweat-stained rim, inching around it. In a matter of seconds, she was ready, not giving the vehicle behind her a glance.

She worked her nose over a clump of scrub grass. Trotted around it then started poking the air. Creed expected her to find a cone of scent close to Kyle’s SUV then take them on the same path as the woman but eventually veer off. Instead, Grace headed back to the woods, only this time in the opposite direction. Not even close to the path they had used.

Creed allowed extra lead until they arrived at the trees. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds. Soon, it would be sunset with or without it. Entering the woods again was like hitting a dimmer switch. His eyes needed time to adjust. Grace’s eyes did not. She tugged on the leash while her nose twitched more rapidly. He didn’t dare let her loose and simply follow. In fact, that bear trap made him hold on to her leash tighter.

The rumble of thunder drew closer. They had less time than he’d predicted. At the first sign of lightning, Creed was prepared to scoop up Grace and head back to the Jeep.

He didn’t waste time looking back for Norwich. He could hear her trying to catch up. Grace plowed deeper into the woods, a part of the property less traveled. The little dog leaped over fallen branches. Creed raced to keep up, making sure the leash didn’t tangle. It was a challenge that got more difficult.

Where Grace scooted under thickets and slipped between trees, Creed tripped and twisted. Branches ripped his shirt. Switch-like twigs whipped at his face and flicked off his cap. Twice his daypack snagged and jolted him backward. Grace stopped only to give him a quick look, an impatient glance to see why he was holding her up.

He lost track of how far they’d gone. He couldn’t hear Norwich behind them any longer. Nothing looked familiar. Grace slowed to sniff and weave through another junkyard of rusty equipment and abandoned vehicles that were squeezed between the trees. This graveyard appeared more ancient than the first one they’d seen closer to the house. Kudzu climbed over everything, revealing only bits and pieces of dull metal, a broken headlight here and there, a glint of chrome bumper.

Grace skidded to a full stop behind what looked like an eighteen-foot-long green monster.

Underneath the vines and kudzu, Creed could barely make out the long-framed vehicle. The chipped wood-grain siding peeked through the foliage covering it. The back window and door gate were somewhere under a massive branch that had fallen on top. It dented the long roof of what was once a station wagon. Nature had encased the vehicle so completely, it was impossible to get a glimpse inside.

He looked at Grace. Her eyes met his, and she sat down. She poked her nose up without breaking eye contact. There was no mistaking her alert. She was all but shouting at him, “Here’s Kyle. I found him.”

Rustling and crunching footfalls reminded Creed of Norwich. He turned just in time to see her swatting and batting her way through the hanging vines and low-lying branches.

“We’re over here,” he called out to her and waved an arm.

“I don’t think anyone’s been out here in years.” She came up beside them, bent down with hands on her knees. Out of breath. And just then, her head pivoted when she saw Grace. “Clearly, I’m wrong.”

Creed looked for some clue, some opening or disturbance in the massive overgrowth. He’d forgotten Grace’s reward and fumbled with his daypack. His fingers searched for her squeaky elephant. But when he pulled it out and presented it to Grace, she continued to poke her nose to the back of the covered vehicle.

Norwich glanced at Creed and raised her eyebrows. She’d been on enough searches with the two of them to know this wasn’t part of the process. But then the last twenty-four hours and this property were nothing like any of their other searches.

He put the reward elephant back into his pack and brought out his camping knife. Norwich assisted, pulling back and holding vines while he sawed through. The thick canopy above made it impossible to see the interior, even as they cleared away the back window. Norwich pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight. She swiped her hand across the glass, trying to clean away the dirt and grime. Then she shot the light inside.

Curled up in a pile on the old station wagon’s bench seat was the body of a man.

“Unbelievable,” Norwich whispered. “They dragged his body all the way here so no one could find him. And we almost didn’t.”

But Creed was watching Grace. She was doing a tiptoe dance at their feet, wagging and smiling. When she saw she had his attention, she reared up on her back legs. She wanted to get a look for herself.

“Just unbelievable.”

“Frances,” Creed said, needing to get her attention and using her first name. Something he never did. It worked.

She glanced at him, then shot a look down at Grace.

“We need to call an ambulance and a rescue crew,” he told her. “He might be alive.”

34

One of the first things Creed learned early in his K9 handling career was that dogs don’t attach emotion to the dead bodies they find. They do, however, get excited when they locate a lost or missing person. The major difference? Dead bodies smell of decomposition. Grace was telling them Kyle Lawrence was still alive. She’d found her missing person and wanted to see him.

While Norwich had tried to give instructions to a dispatcher, Creed smashed the back window. He pried open the back of the station wagon. Glass shattered. Metal scraped. The man they believed to be Kyle didn’t appear to notice any of it. But Creed thought he saw his body tremble. He could hear faint moans just as he wrenched open the back door. Hinges screeched loud enough to send birds flapping.