Brenda Mott

The Sheriff Of Sage Bend


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her in.

      “Thank you for coming, Kyle,” Paige said.

      “I’m happy to help. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get out here yesterday. We were conducting a search for a lost child over in Blue Ridge Park. Found him, safe and sound.” Kyle beamed proudly at the big shepherd. “If your daughter is out there, Blackhawk will find her.”

      “I sure hope so.”

      “Do you still ride?” Miranda asked. “Will your dog follow a horse?”

      “I ride, and Blackhawk will stick with me. But to work the scent, I need to be on foot.”

      “That’s fine, but it’s a ways out to the place where Shannon’s trail disappeared. It’ll be faster to get there on horseback.”

      “That’ll do. We can work the trail from there. I’ll need an item of Shannon’s clothing, preferably something she’s recently worn.”

      “I already have it,” Paige said. She handed over a paper bag. “It’s one of her T-shirts.”

      “Perfect.”

      “Okay,” Miranda said. “Let’s go.”

      Kyle mounted up on one of the dude horses, and the four of them headed out the east fork, while Garrett and Deputy Mac Frazier stayed behind to supervise a search grid. In spite of the mild early morning temperature, Miranda shivered as they neared the rock where they’d found Shannon’s blood.

      Kyle climbed off his horse and traded Blackhawk’s collar for a leash and harness. The dog grew excited. It was time to work. Kyle took Shannon’s T-shirt and let the animal sniff it, giving him encouragement and the command “Go find.”

      Miranda watched, fascinated, as the shepherd sniffed the rock, then lowered his head to investigate the patch of blood, which had dried to a dark brown. He circled and immediately picked up a scent. He set off, Kyle clutching the long lead, the pair climbing the steep hillside in a direction Miranda hadn’t taken yesterday. One too steep for the horses to go.

      Dismounting, she handed her reins to her mother. “Will you wait here? Hold Ranger for me, Mom?”

      Paige nodded. Her anxious expression told Miranda she was afraid of what the dog might find. Which was precisely why Miranda wanted to go without her.

      Lucas left the buckskin’s reins dangling. “He won’t go anywhere as long as the other horses stay put, Paige. You’ll be all right by yourself?” He gave Miranda a pointed look.

      “I’m going,” she reiterated.

      “All right.”

      “It’s okay—go,” Paige said. But she looked scared, and the bags beneath her eyes told Miranda she’d cried herself to sleep last night. Paige rarely cried.

      Determined to find her sister, one way or another, Miranda climbed.

      “We need to keep back out of Kyle’s way,” Lucas said.

      “I understand.”

      “Now you can see what I was trying to tell you yesterday,” he said. “That Shannon could’ve gone in any direction.”

      Miranda’s face warmed with resentment. “I realize that. But I told you. I had to try to find her.”

      “We will.”

      They continued to climb, the going impossibly steep for a long stretch, the ground too hard-packed and rocky to see footprints. Then Blackhawk and Kyle angled off on a game trail that took a less perilous route. They wound through brush and rock, steadily climbing before dropping down again toward a gully.

      “I hope this dog knows what he’s doing,” Miranda muttered. Below, Paige and the horses had become dots in the distance, then disappeared.

      “He’s the best,” Lucas said. He paused to catch his breath, forcing Miranda to halt as well, then continued on.

      Twenty minutes later, they heard the sound of moving water. Up ahead a wide stream pooled into a small lake. If Shannon had somehow managed to cross the water, would Blackhawk be able to pick up her trail on the other side? The stream definitely wasn’t small enough to jump. So how would Shannon have crossed it, if she were injured?

      Unless she hadn’t been on her own.

      Miranda swallowed hard, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Briefly, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to calm down.

      The brush grew thicker, and Blackhawk and Kyle disappeared into the midst of it. Lucas hurried to catch up, Miranda on his heels. A staccato bark, followed by a triumphant shout, reached their ears as they burst from the cover and came out on the stream bank.

      Kyle stooped to praise and pet his dog, rewarding him with a ball on a rope. “Good boy, Blackhawk! Atta boy.”

      “What?” Miranda asked. “What did he find?” She didn’t see anything on the rocky creek bed. Then Kyle pointed out a bit of color at the edge of the water.

      “There,” he said.

      She gasped. A faded, teal-blue scrunchie. The one Shannon had used to pull her hair into a ponytail yesterday before she rode away.

      “That’s Shannon’s,” Miranda said, bending to reach for it.

      “Don’t touch it,” Lucas said sharply. From his shirt pocket, he took out a digital camera and began to snap pictures, then extracted a plastic evidence bag from his denim jacket. Using a pen, he lifted the scrunchie and put it in the bag.

      “She was here,” Miranda said unnecessarily.

      “She must’ve crossed the water,” Lucas said, staring at the rapidly flowing stream. “Can you pick up her trail on the other side, Kyle?”

      “I can sure try.” Kyle studied the area, as did Lucas and Miranda.

      “We need to find a better place to cross,” Lucas said. “The water’s too fast here.” He frowned. “Are you sure the trail stops dead right here?”

      Kyle nodded. “Blackhawk would’ve gone on if it followed the bank.”

      “All right, then,” Lucas said, his jaw set. “We’ll just find a place to cross. But we need to mark this area.” He took off his denim jacket, unloaded the pockets and tied it to a sapling near the water’s edge. Then he gathered some rocks, with Miranda’s and Kyle’s help, and at the base of the tree made a pile that could be seen for some distance. “That ought to do.” He pocketed the evidence bag. “Let’s go.”

      The three of them set out along the creek bank, picking their way through brush and rock. It was a good while before they found a possible place to cross, where the water was shallow and enough exposed rock and gravel provided a makeshift footbridge to the other side. Blackhawk splashed on in, not seeming to mind getting wet, and Miranda studied the dog to see if he picked up anything. Had Shannon found this crossing and used it? Or had she gone through the water at another spot?

      Trying not to despair at the enormity of the task ahead, Miranda watched Kyle once again take Shannon’s T-shirt from the bag Paige had given him, and wave it under Blackhawk’s nose. The shepherd sniffed it and then, at Kyle’s instruction, began searching the ground.

      They headed back the direction they’d come, keeping an eye out for the sapling Lucas had marked with his jacket. If Shannon had emerged from the stream at any point near where she’d dropped her hair tie, they ought to be able to find her trail. But though Kyle worked Blackhawk up one side and down the other, the shepherd came up empty.

      “Why the hell isn’t he finding her scent?” Miranda closed her eyes. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

      “Understandable,” Kyle said.

      “I appreciate your help,” Miranda added. She knew Kyle would do anything in his power to find her sister.

      He