“Roger that. Over and out.”
Turning her attention back to Robo, she stroked his head. He leaned into her hand, gazing up at her with affection. “You’re a good boy, you know that,” she murmured.
She began some chatter to rev up Robo’s prey drive and let him know they weren’t finished. Taking out the bag containing Cole’s hat, she let Robo sniff it again. This time, he skimmed over the bag with his nose, barely needing a whiff. Mattie knew he had the scent locked into his memory, and she’d bet her next paycheck that her dog knew exactly which man they were tracking: his own doctor.
“Search,” she told him.
Robo darted onto the game trail that provided even footing for a short distance, affording a moment for Mattie to scan the forest. Dense pine and spruce, as well as boulders of all sizes, covered the rocky terrain providing plentiful places to hide. This would have given her a small amount of comfort had she not been so worried about the Doberman. The fact that he’d been used to track animals told her he’d received at least some level of training. And the way he strained at his chain to reach visitors told her that the dog was vicious.
Robo kept moving uphill. Slowing to a trot, he led them to a place where shale and rock abutted the trail to the right. On the stones several feet away from the game trail lay a dead coyote, well decomposed. Robo sniffed the area, working his way around the coyote, leaping from one stone to the other and giving each a thorough whiff. Mattie followed, catching her balance on each stone while she waited for Robo to finish his examination. A few feet past a thicket of prickly rose, Robo touched the rock he’d been sniffing with his mouth and then sat. He gazed at her, indicating his find.
Being careful not to jostle her dog, Mattie stretched her legs to cross over to the stone he was sitting on. Brody followed behind, leaping onto the stone she’d left. Mattie squatted beside Robo, placing an arm around him to help her balance. “What did you find?”
She searched, and as her eyes adjusted to the pattern in the gray and black stone, she perceived some spots that didn’t belong. Reaching into a pouch on her utility belt, she withdrew a compact evidence kit. “There’s something here,” she told Brody.
Using a swab, she gently rubbed the spot, and the end of it turned red. She showed it to Brody as she tucked it inside its plastic cover. “Looks like blood,” she said flatly, but her heart sank. Maybe it’s Cole’s. He could be injured, and an injury would greatly reduce his chances of escape.
“Good boy,” she told Robo, giving him a firm pat on his Kevlar-coated side. “Go on. Search.”
Chapter 30
Cole sat on a rocky ledge, peering down into the forest from behind a boulder. Sunlight slanted hard from the west, nearing sunset. He shivered as the cold breeze kicked up, turning the wet legs of his coveralls into instruments of torture. He’d used his Leatherman to cut damp strips of cloth from the bottoms of each pants leg to bind his swollen ankle, but pain still throbbed with every heartbeat. He’d also fashioned a spear of sorts by winding narrow strips of cloth to secure the crossbow bolt onto a solid branch he’d harvested from a pine.
His breath came in full and even cycles, and he felt fully recovered. Had it not been for the ankle, he could run again. As it was, he wasn’t sure how much more pounding the injury could take. He stood to test it, bending over to make sure he remained hidden behind the boulder. Pain shot up his leg when he bore weight on it, but he could handle it if necessary. He wished he knew where Carmen and her dog were.
By now, someone should have missed him—Tess, his clients, his kids—someone. The last thing he wanted was for one of them to come looking for him. He wondered if Carmen had given up and returned to the stable. If so, she would be a danger to anyone who came into her vicinity.
He wished he’d called Mattie to tell her about the Clenbuterol dosing before he left home. At least then she would have known he was coming up to confront Carmen about it. It was stupid of him not to. If only he’d known then what he knew now.
Thoughts of his kids sent a chill of a different sort through him. What would happen to his kids if he died? He’d never even made out a will. No appointed guardian. Would Liv come out of her self-imposed exile and take care of them? He didn’t want to think about it. Couldn’t think about it. He needed to pay attention.
Scanning the steep cliff face above him, he wondered about his plan. With his ankle the way it was, he doubted he could climb any higher. An escape route felt really important, and he didn’t have one. He debated going back down and moving on. Staying hidden up here might work if his stalkers were mere humans, but he worried about the dog, Bruno. Just how good a tracker was he?
Searching the forest below, he discovered the answer. What he first saw as movement between the trees soon took form. Bruno trotted across a clearing, nose to the ground, coming closer with each step. Cole’s heart rate kicked up a notch.
Who was with him? He studied the forest, trying to find Carmen. Nothing. She’d apparently turned the dog loose.
As Bruno came closer, Cole could see a bulky collar on his neck. An e-collar. His mind jumped to the possibilities of what that could mean. Carmen could summon the dog back to her with an electronic signal. Or if the collar contained a GPS, she could allow him to run down prey and then follow him at her own pace. The second option scared the crap out of him.
Without hesitation, the Doberman sprinted up to the base of the cliff, and Cole lost sight of him. He searched the forest—still no sign of Carmen. Cole straightened so he could see around the boulder. Where is that dog?
Bruno lunged into view a mere ten feet below. They locked eyes for several scary seconds. The dog snarled and barked, scrambling at the bottom of the ledge in search of a way up.
Now what?
Don’t panic.
The Doberman scrabbled at the loose shale, sending rocks sliding to the bottom of the cliff, taking him partway down with them. He continued to bark as he got up and tried again, this time gaining some ground.
Cole scanned the forest. Still nothing.
I’ve got to do something to stop this barking. He remembered how Bruno had reacted to Sophie’s baby talk. He tried to imitate Sophie’s sweet talk to the best of his ability. “Hey Bruno. Guter hund. Guten morgen, Bruno. Guten hund,” he called, most likely butchering the translations of ‘good dog’ and ‘good morning’ but doing the best he could. Hopefully the dog wouldn’t care about proper syntax or what time of day it happened to be.
Cole kept up the chatter for almost a full minute before Bruno stopped barking. By this time, he’d scrambled back to the base of the ledge. He stopped for a moment, giving Cole his full attention, ears pricked.
Hardly daring to hope, Cole continued to talk to the dog, alternating between a soothing voice and baby talk. Bruno stared at him, his amber eyes unblinking.
Cole’s attempt to say “good boy” seemed to make a difference. Doggie confusion came into Bruno’s expression, and he whined—a single, confused utterance.
Encouraged, Cole stood and showed Bruno the palms of his hands. “Das is gut, Bruno,” he repeated, trying to keep the urgency he was starting to feel out of his voice.
He wracked his brain for what to do next. He decided to try a command. “Bruno, sitz!”
The Dobie tucked his tail and sat, looking up at Cole expectantly, ears pricked.