Kaleidoscope Eyes Page 6

  It would be like living a nightmare. One you couldn’t escape.

  At least right here, in the clearing behind the ladies’ foster home, the moon and stars gave a little light. Annie turned back to her Jeep, pulling equipment for her and Kodi from the drawers she’d set up in the back. Her Jeep wasn’t the newest vehicle on the road, but it was dependable. And since Annie kept it loaded for searches, all she and Kodi had to do was hop in and take off when they got a callout.

  Annie and Dan had just returned from walking to the ravine across the clearing. She didn’t see how a woman Bertha’s age could make her way down that incline, into the ravine—let alone, up out of it—without hurting herself. But Annie had seen stranger things. Besides, if the woman was down there, at least she’d be somewhat contained. If she’d reached the woods beyond … there was no telling how far she might have wandered.

  Annie looked at Kodi, who sat in the backseat of the Jeep, ears perked, ready to go. “Well, let’s just hope she’s somewhere in the ravine, eh, girl?”

  Kodi barked, and Doris came padding up beside Annie. “Oh! She’s barking! Does that mean she smells someone?”

  Annie smiled. “No, that just means she’s talking to me.”

  Though Annie hadn’t yet put on her headlamp, she had no trouble seeing the disappointment on Doris’s usually cheerful features. She touched the woman’s arm. “Don’t worry, Doris. We’ll find your friend.”

  Though the woman’s smile was clearly forced, it held a definite sweetness. “I know you will, dear.”

  Annie let Kodi roam around a bit while she got the dog’s gear ready.

  “How on earth do you keep track of this sweet animal in the dark? Why, with that black coat, she almost disappears.”

  In the light of her headlamp, Annie saw that Kodi had come to sit in front of Doris. Annie grinned. Kodi knew a pushover when she saw one. Sure enough, Doris leaned down and planted a resounding kiss on Kodi’s snout.

  The dog was in heaven.

  Her big tail pounded the ground, and she lifted her snout for another smack.

  Doris was about to comply when Agatha chirped up. “Doris, for heaven’s sake, be careful. That dog is nearly twice your size.”

  “Oh, he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “She.” Annie pulled Kodi’s shabrack and search collar out of the back of her Jeep, looped them over her wrist, then knelt beside the shepherd.

  “She. Even better.” Doris bent over and pressed her cheek to Kodi’s. “We girls need to stick together.”

  “And to answer your question, this is how I keep track of her.” Annie set the bright orange vest on the tailgate of her vehicle, then turned and fastened Kodi’s collar in place.

  “What’s that?” Doris fingered the vest, tracing the large gold SEARCH DOG embroidered on the sides.

  “It’s Kodi’s shabrack.”

  Doris frowned. “Her what?”

  “Shabrack. Her search vest.”

  “Well, it’s certainly bright enough.”

  “That’s the idea.” Annie pressed a small button at the back of the shabrack, lighting up the reflective strip lining either side.

  Doris clapped her hands. “Why, she’ll be all lit up like a Christmas tree.”

  “As I live and breathe, she’s even got a bell.” Aggie flicked the bell hanging from Kodi’s collar.

  “Yup, so I can keep track of her when she’s out of sight, and to scare off any wild animals long before we encounter them.” As Annie leaned over to slip the vest onto the dog, Kodi gave her face a quick, sloppy lick.

  Annie wiped her face and eyed the shepherd. “Thanks a lot, you moose.” Kodi’s only reaction was a panting grin. Annie chuckled, fastening the shabrack firmly in place. She stood, then turned at Doris’s light gasp.

  “Well, my goodness! Kodi looks so … serious all of a sudden.”

  “She is.” Annie slipped her own vest into place. “She knows when her shabrack goes on that it’s time to work.”

  Dan joined them, holding a radio out to Annie. “Here you go, sis.” He turned to the two women hovering beside them. “Okay, ladies, back to the cruiser.”

  “Oh, but we want to watch—”

  Dan shook his head. “Aggie, you don’t want to be a distraction, do you?”

  Annie had to turn away so the ladies wouldn’t see her smile. Dan knew full well that the women wouldn’t distract Kodi; Not once she was working. But his ploy to get them out of the way worked. They bowed their heads and trudged back to his cruiser.

  “Clever boy,” she muttered as he made sure their radios were on the right frequency

  “Hey, got them out of your hair, didn’t I?”

  “My hair?”

  His lips twitched. “Yeah, well … anyway, it’s a little after 4:00 a.m. You good to go by yourself?”

  Dan knew it was highly irregular for Annie to go on a search without at least one person as backup. But the two of them had realized that with the ladies along, he’d have to stay at the vehicles with them. And neither of them wanted to lose any more time while waiting for another SAR member to arrive. “I’m fine.”

  “Check in at regular intervals, say every half hour or so?”

  Annie nodded, clamping the radio into her chest pack then clipping the small bottle of powder she used to check wind direction onto her belt. “You got it.” She lowered her hand to Kodi’s head. The dog stood so tall that Annie didn’t even have to bend over to scratch her ears. “Come on, girl.”

  She led Kodi to the edge of a clearing just before the ravine, then stepped back a few paces so she was behind the dog. Lifting the container on her belt, she squeezed a puff of powder into the air at Kodi’s nose level. It fell almost straight down. Not much wind—just a hint blowing due east. Which meant Kodi would work across it, zigzagging north and south, nose in the air until she hit human scent. Then she’d follow the scent rafts as they were carried on the wind into the subject or any other person who might be out there.

  Annie often wondered what it was like to be able to pick up scents like that. To draw in the air and scent discriminate, finding any human scent out of all the scents floating by. Like the saying went, when a dog walks into a bakery, she doesn’t smell cake; she smells eggs, flour, sugar, and vanilla. Add the training Kodi had received in air scenting, and there was just no stopping that nose.

  Which was why air scenting dogs like Kodi were in such demand. They were trained to follow any human scent, unlike trailing dogs, which were scent specific, meaning they trailed one particular human’s scent. To do that, they needed a point of origin—the last known location and an article worn by the person who’d gone missing.

  As amazing as it seemed, given the time and conditions, wilderness air scenting dogs could find almost anyone. It didn’t matter if the person was dead or alive—though, of course, alive was always the hope—or if she was out in the open, hidden, or even under water.

  Thank goodness they didn’t have to worry about water on this search. There weren’t any lakes or rivers out here that Bertha might have fallen in. That was a blessing anyway.

  Father, go with us. Help us find the lost.

  It was the same prayer Annie sent heavenward every time she and Kodi started a search. Annie leaned over, took firm hold of Kodi’s collar, and issued the order. “Kodi, find her!”

  The dog shot forward, nose to the ground, ranging one way then the other. She lifted her nose to the air, sniffed, then dropped back to the ground again. And so it went, Annie griding behind Kodi, tracking on the map Dan gave her as the shepherd ranged back and forth. Annie kept her steps slow and easy, letting Kodi find her pace. But she couldn’t help glancing at her watch.

  4:30 a.m. Lately the thermometer started climbing around ten. By ten-thirty, odds were good that it would be too hot for Kodi to work. That gave them roughly six hours.

  Please, Father, let it be enough time.

  SEVEN

  “I can’t say as I was ever lost,

  but I wa
s bewildered once for three days.”

  DANIEL BOONE

  “O LORD, you have examined my heart

  and know everything about me ….

  You chart the path ahead of me ….

  You both precede me and follow me.”

  PSALM 139:1, 3, 5

  SEPTEMBER 8

  5:30 a.m.

  Cold.

  It permeated everything, making Annie’s muscles tense and ache. She nestled her hands in her pockets. Unless she missed her guess, the temp was in the low forties. Cold enough to set her shivering despite her insulated clothing.

  Cold enough, she acknowledged, foreboding curling deep in her gut, to kill poor Bertha.

  Annie couldn’t remember the last time the temp had dropped so low this early in the year. Man! It was bad enough to have time working against you. But when the elements joined in, merely hazardous conditions power-shifted straight to deadly.

  Annie’s lips compressed.

  She’d really hoped they would be done by now. Hoped they wouldn’t have to spend hours out in this cold. Because if they had to, so did Bertha. And while Annie and Kodi were ready for whatever the elements chose to throw at them, Bertha was not.

  Not by a long shot.

  Bertha’s age and dementia were enough of a detriment. They’d work against her, keeping her confused, possibly even making her hide from Annie and Kodi if she heard them. Then there was the fact that, when last seen, all Bertha was wearing was a light robe and fuzzy slippers.

  Not exactly adequate protection against this kind of cold.

  The tinkling of a bell drew Annie’s attention, and she peered into the dark morning surrounding her, squinting.

  It was a little after five-thirty, so the sun had just begun to climb out of bed, and the moon and stars were playing hide and seek behind dense clouds. Still, the lights in the sky peeked out just often enough for Annie to discern the tops of the trees below her in the ravine.

  Kodi ranged back and forth, up the incline and then back down. More than once as she followed the dog—Kodi’s halo of pink, the same shade as Kyla’s, dancing in the layers of darkness—Annie wished she had the dog’s energy and sure footing. Four legs were definitely better than two in terrain like this.

  Since at night wind currents moved downhill, she and Kodi had been griding the hill from the bottom of the ravine, working their way to the top. When the sun came up, it’d be a new game. Wind currents would shift, going uphill, so she and Kodi would have to shift as well, starting at the top of the incline and griding back and forth down to the bottom.

  Annie had just started back down the incline into the ravine again when she caught the sound of the bell. She listened, holding her breath—then released her disappointment with a sigh. From the sound of the bell, Kodi wasn’t running, which meant she wasn’t coming back because of a find. The shepherd had been working her heart out for the last two hours, and still there was no joy in Mudville.

  The jingling bell drew closer. Any minute now …

  There.

  Fairy lights danced through the forest, zigzagging in a pattern as familiar to Annie as breathing. The lights moved with deliberate ease, each jog up and down accompanied by the light tinkle of the bell.

  Annie squinted, watching the shades of black and blue-purple that were the night shift and fold in on each other. She tried to focus, to see the animal moving through the trees below, toward her. But with that black coat, all she could see at this distance was Kodi’s lighted collar.

  And just the suggestion of pink.

  She heard paws pounding, sticks breaking, brush scraping along Kodi’s sides as she ranged. Then, finally, Annie made out Kodi’s form as the shepherd cleared the woods and came loping toward her.

  If not for the lit collar, Kodi would be as invisible as a panther in the African night. Like the big cats, Kodi was a study in controlled power. Body relaxed as she trotted along, her strong legs moved with ease and purpose. Mouth set in a typical shepherd grin, Kodi’s panting sent tufts of fog circling into the air, trailing behind her like steam from a locomotive.

  Annie waited where she was, bracing herself. Kodi’s steady stride didn’t break until she reached her mistress. Then she leaned forward, poking that cold nose against the collapsible water bowl hanging from Annie’s belt.

  “Good girl, Kode.” Annie kept her tone upbeat, encouraging. She couldn’t let her growing concern bring Kodi down. The dog drew alongside Annie and poked her snout at the water dish again, all business. No begging for ear scratches now. Like all search dogs, when Kodi was working, nothing mattered but finding the subject.

  “Thirsty, huh?”

  An enthusiastic bark filled the morning stillness, so Annie undipped the dish and filled it with water. Many handlers just tipped the dish, keeping it attached to their belts as they filled it, then held it for the dog to drink.

  If Annie did that, she’d get a bath.

  Kodi might be one of the best wilderness air scenters in the country, but one thing she was not was dainty

  Annie watched until she was done drinking, then shook out the bowl and clipped it back in place. Kodi started to turn, then stopped when Annie touched her neck.

  “Hang on a minute, girl.”

  Kodi turned those soft brown eyes up to her. Was anything more soulful than a German shepherd’s gaze? Annie knelt, draped an arm around that powerful neck, closed her eyes.

  Breathed in the fragrance of the woods, the heady scent of dirt and pine.

  Be still.

  Listened to the whisper of life around them. The chorus of chirruping insects. The song of birds greeting the day …

  Be still

  Kodi leaned against Annie, resting her chin on her mistress’s shoulder. Annie stroked the dog’s long ears. Help us, Lord. Help us to see …

  A breeze kicked up, brushing Annie’s face and lifting her hair with invisible fingers. A tremor shuddered down her spine, but not because of the breeze. Annie opened her eyes.

  The sun was coming up.

  Rays of light slipped through the clouds, spilling onto the trees, the bushes, the grasses. Colors and light shifted, blended, reflecting all around them like diamonds in the dew. All around them … except …

  There.

  About twenty feet away, near the bottom of the ravine. Something about the grass, the bushes, was different.

  Annie’s heart tripped and she stood, walking with slow, careful steps, keeping her eyes on the subtle difference in sheen. When she reached the spot, she knelt and studied it more closely.

  Yes. Someone had walked here. And not that long ago. The grass was bent, pressed down. Dew was wiped away from a section of branches on the bush, as though someone had brushed against it as she hurried past.

  Annie glanced at Kodi. The dog had straightened, ears perked, her eyes flitting from Annie to the area beyond them, then back to Annie. She felt it too. She had to. That sudden quickening inside, the feeling she needed to catch her breath.

  Standing, Annie gripped Kodi’s collar. “Bertha’s out there, Kodi. Find her, girl!”

  Kodi was off like a shot. Annie followed, heart pounding. They were going to find Bertha. She knew it as surely as she knew daylight was coming.

  She watched Kodi range back and forth, and even the jingling of her bell sounded more assured.

  Doris was right. Kodi was beautiful. Annie never tired of watching her work. Growing daylight filtered through the trees around them, sending rays of gold and rose across the ravine, making Kodi’s black fur shine as she zigzagged with that easy, comfortable gait, her nose lifted to the air then lowered to the ground as she sought the elusive scent cone. Those strong legs and immense feet moved with determined grace. She was in her element, on task, and loving every minute of it.

  As the shepherd headed farther down into the ravine, Annie followed, eyes and ears alert. She was so absorbed in studying the area that the crackle of the radio startled her. She lifted it from the chest pack, talking as she
walked.

  “This is Annie.”

  “Everything going okay?”

  She could hear the doubt in Dan’s voice. Time was running out. “We’re still looking, bro.”

  “And we’re still praying. Keep me posted, sis.”

  “Will do.”

  She was about to sign off when a sound caught her attention. She turned her head, and her pulse rate jumped. “Dan, hold on!”

  “Annie, say again?”

  She didn’t reply Instead she waited, listening, then burst into a grin. Kodi’s bell was jingling like a Salvation Army bell ringer gone wild. That could only mean one thing.

  Kodi was running!

  “Dan, I’ll be right back. I think Kodi’s got something.”

  No sooner had she slipped the radio back into the chest holster than the dog burst out of the woods. Annie braced herself as Kodi ran to her, then lifted both front paws off the ground midgallop and planted them on Annie’s thighs.

  An alert!

  “Good girl, Kodi! Show me. Thatta girl, show me!”

  Annie scrambled through the woods, on the heels of her excited dog. Kodi disappeared around a large fallen tree. Her exuberant barks filled the air—then fell silent.

  Normally when Kodi found a victim, she almost wore herself out with the excitement of it, jumping and barking, letting her celebration fill the air. Alarmed at the silence, Annie ran after the dog, rounded the tree—and jerked to a halt.

  Kodi sat there, her rapid panting and thumping tail the only external signs of her jubilation.

  Beside her, seated on large stump like a queen on her throne, was an elderly woman. Her disheveled snow white hair bore a crown of twigs sticking out this way and that, and her wrinkled face, though smudged and scratched, held no fear or anxiety.

  She seemed … peaceful. Almost as if she belonged out here, in the middle of the wilderness. A bemused smile touched those pale lips, and she directed an adoring look down at Kodi as one veined hand scratched the shepherd’s ears.

  Annie took a step forward. “Hello, Bertha.”

  The woman looked up, and a beautiful smile blossomed on her face. “Do you like my wolf?” Her eyes were wide and innocent.