Hunted on the Trail
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Dana Mentink
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15
One
“Bad idea. Very bad. The worst.” Garrett, Stephanie Wolfe’s twin, sounded much farther away than the three-hour drive to their family ranch house in Whisper Valley.
“You’re wrong, it’s a fabulous idea,” she said firmly. “Finishing in the top three will net Security Hounds more cred.” Way more. The four-day Lost Sierra Tracking and Trailing Competition would be yet another proving ground for Steph and her champion bloodhound, Chloe. From the back seat, Chloe flapped her ears in support of the idea.
“We’re doing okay,” he said.
“No, we’re not.” Their investigations firm took private cases and also did search and rescue for the county, and neither end had generated much activity of late. He knew it, she knew it and so did their other three siblings.
A windblown pine needle splattered against her SUV. The movement caught Chloe’s attention and she slopped a giant tongue out the partially open window to capture it. Stephanie smiled at her canine passenger. Best dog she’d ever worked with, bar none. The purebred bloodhound, Duchess Chloe Cleopatra Rosamond, had been discarded by her breeders when she was discovered to have a flaw. In Steph’s mind, her only flaw was her previous owners. “We won’t get killed. Promise.”
“Not funny.”
“I leave funny to you, so put down the tennis ball and get going. I’ll do the same.”
He paused. “How do you know I’m fiddling with a tennis ball?”
“Please. I can tell you what you had for dinner.”
“You can’t.”
“Cheese quesadillas with salsa and sour cream, no cilantro,” she rattled off.
“I...” He stopped. “Well, there was no sour cream so I went without, for your information. Steph, I just feel uneasy about you tackling the Lost Sierra alone.”
“You’re gun-shy.” He should be, after his last case. “And I’m not alone. I’ve got Chloe and the competition assigns you a partner.” Because Garrett was right about one thing—the sprawling Northern California wilderness that spanned the Sierra Nevada crest was way too rugged and isolated to tackle solo, dog or no dog. Before he could rally a response, she brought out the big guns. “Catherine needs you to be with her when she testifies at the trial.” An understatement, after his girlfriend had almost lost her entire family—and Garrett too—before they’d wrapped their last investigation.
He huffed. “Okay. I concede. I’ll only be gone five days, tops. Roman and Chase...”
“Are away, leaving Mom, Kara and Steph, the poor delicate females, to manage on their own.”
“Don’t kid. Weather’s bad. The storm’s gonna be a doozy.”
The November forecast was grim. “Which will be an excellent test of Chloe’s skills, and mine. Our cases don’t always occur on lovely balmy days, right? It’s only three nights.”
He huffed. “The timing with Ferris’s release...”
“Don’t.” She tried to smooth over her caustic tone. “I’m here. I’m doing this.” Read: I’m living my life and no one is going to stop me, especially not Ferris Grinder.
His sigh was bone-deep, weary, which made her feel bad about adding to his worries.
“I got this, Garrett. Trust me.”
“I do. Love you.”
“Ditto.”
She put away thoughts of Ferris and tackled the steep road up the mountain. There was no sign of any human activity, only a wide sprawl of granite slope, heavily wooded. Had she taken a wrong turn?
Her brother’s comment jangled. The timing with Ferris’s release...
A memory crept in before she could shield against it.
The day in court, the trial for Maurice Grinder, Ferris’s father.
Ferris had walked by on his way to the courtroom, passing where she stood in uniform. Chloe was there too. Her brother Chase had brought the dog as part of the ongoing training process, to accustom her to the sights and smells of a public building, and also, Steph suspected, as a show of moral support. Ferris stumbled and sent a chair flying at them, which clipped Chloe. Though there was no way to prove it, she knew Ferris had done it intentionally. Chloe reacted with a yelp and a spate of barking unlike she’d ever heard from her dog.
They’d convicted Ferris’s father for his fraudulent business practices, the fake trucking company that he used to steal freight and fence the goods. But there hadn’t been enough evidence to get Maurice for what she believed deep down he’d also been responsible for: ordering the murders of an employee and his family after the clerk made plans to blow the whistle. Maurice had died in prison.
Ferris was shortly thereafter convicted of fraud, theft and assorted small crimes. If she’d been allowed to take on his case, maybe she could have gotten him for murder since she was sure he’d been the one to carry out his father’s deadly contract. But Vance Silverton, her boyfriend at the time, who’d been promoted to detective instead of her, hadn’t gotten the job done.
Steph eyed the roiling clouds as she drove deeper into the wilderness. Ferris had been paroled only three weeks earlier. There was no proof that he was behind the series of calls she’d received, anonymous promises that she and her dog would soon be dead. Former cops acquired lots of enemies, didn’t they?
Teeth gritted, she drove on.
When she finally saw the tiny mile marker, she turned off toward a narrow bridge that spanned a river. To her relief, the metal security gate that barred access was unlocked and pushed aside, an indication she was heading the right way.
It was confirmed when she saw a short man with an orange vest on horseback. He waved her on. Abreast of him, she rolled down her window and he craned to look at her. His full beard almost covered the shiny ID tag on a pristine lanyard around his neck... Evan, volunteer.
“Here for the competition?” His gaze roved to her back seat. “Is that a liver-and-tan hound?”
“She is.”
“A champion, huh?”
“Yes.”
He laughed. “That’s what they all say.”
Rude. “With my dog it’s the truth.”
He pointed. “’Bout a half hour to go. I’ll bring up the rear since you’re the last pair.”
Precisely thirty-five minutes later, they arrived at a small registration table, where a woman stood bundled against the cold, a banner with Lost Sierra Tracking and Trailing Competition snapping in the wind behind her.
Another woman sat nearby in a parked Jeep, poking at her phone.
Stephanie unloaded Chloe and approached the table. The registrar beamed her a smile from under the hood of her raincoat and they made their introductions.
“Excellent,” Elizabeth said. “You’re our last team. We’ve got your starts staggered, of course. Don’t worry, winners are calculated strictly on elapsed time and course completion.”
“How many teams are competing?”
“You’re the tenth and final duo.”
Perfect. She’d have a great shot at reaching the top three.
The woman pawed through a box under the table and handed her a pack. “We’ve got six volunteers from the various tracking clubs to monitor the checkpoints. At the first checkpoint, you’ll receive your tent and sleeping bag, as well as a GPS tracker. If you need to quit because of the storm at any time, have your partner radio and drive you back to your car. Your safety and your dog’s is the first priority.” She gestured as the woman in the Jeep got out. “Here she is. Her name is...” She sighed. “So sorry. I’ve forgotten. It’s been a busy day.”
The petite woman with a neat braid hastened over and pumped Steph’s hand. “No problem. Gina Johnson. Pleased to meet you.” She kneeled and scrubbed Chloe behind the ears, sending the dog’s tail whipping. “You look like a winner to me, baby.”
“She is,” Steph said. “Many times over.”
Gina grinned. “Well, let’s go add another feather to her cap, shall we? I’ll drive us to the starting point.”
Volunteer Evan remained atop his horse, watching. “How about I escort you ladies to the first checkpoint?”
“No thanks,” Gina said.
“Mighty rugged out there,” Evan said. “Dangerous.”
Gina waved him off. “I think we got this.”
With a shrug, he dismounted and turned to help Elizabeth load supplies into her car.
Stephanie was about to follow Gina when she noticed a vehicle pull up and park under a tree. Her curiosity turned to shock as she watched a man get out. Tall, stubbled chin, and with a dimple on the right side of his mouth that would show if he’d been smiling.
He wasn’t.
She couldn’t make her brain believe he was standing there.
Not him.
Not now.
Vance Silverton realized his jaw was hanging open and closed it with a snap. Steph? Here? That changed everything. His brain spun through the ramifications.
The woman with the braid who looked to be a volunteer strode to the Jeep and got in. Steph hadn’t moved and was staring daggers at him. Stomach quivering, he freed the dog from the back seat to give himself a moment before he sauntered closer to Steph.
“Best behavior, Brutus,” he muttered to the sluggish hound. “Hi, Steph.” Friendly, casual. Maybe they could ignore the big fat white elephant of their past lazing between them. That notion immediately popped like a soap bubble.
“What are you doing here, Vance?”
“I was going to register.”
“You were going to register? For this competition?” She eyed his dog incredulously. Brutus flicked one of his ears, the one that stood upright, before oozing like a puddle to the damp ground. Were a dog’s legs supposed to spread out in all directions like that?
“You and him?” Steph looked as though she was not sure which point to tackle first. “Since when are you into tracking and trailing?”
Since never.
“I’m sorry, sir, but the competition is closed,” the registrar called out. “We’re not taking any more last-minute entrants because of the unfavorable weather forecast.”
He was going to press his case, but there were other fish to fry now.
“Steph.” He kept his voice low and took a step closer to her. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”
A drop of rain landed on her short dark hair. She opened her mouth, closed it and then started in again. “No, you don’t. I have no idea why you’re here, but whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it, or you.”
Direct, like she’d been since they were colleagues. “Listen to me...”
“Elizabeth,” Steph called over his shoulder to the woman in charge. “We’re ready to roll.”
Elizabeth finished shoving papers into boxes. She was too preoccupied to notice the awkward body language between him and Steph, but the other lady hadn’t.
“Everything okay?” she called from the Jeep.
“Yes, one second, Gina,” Steph said. “Let’s go, Chloe.”
He took her wrist. “Steph,” he said urgently. “I really need to talk to you.”
She jerked away from his touch. “I don’t buy for one red-hot second that you’re here to compete, so that means you’re lying. I don’t talk to liars.”
He’d expected fireworks, but he thought he’d be able to at least explain before she shut him down. “Two minutes. It’s important. I’m concerned about you.”
“Now you’re worried? That’s real nice, Vance. You sure didn’t spare many feelings about me when you took my job. Didn’t care much then, did you?”
“I didn’t...” He trailed off, snatching his baseball cap from his head and whacking the raindrops against his knee. But he had, actually. He’d done everything he could to get the detective promotion for reasons he couldn’t tell her then. While he was trying to work out just what to say, she turned her back on him and trotted with her dog to the Jeep.
“Steph...” He’d taken a few steps when the registrar stopped him.
“Sir, this team has to get going before dark. Is there something else I can help you with?”
He eyed her box. “Aren’t you going to stay until the event’s over?” Three nights of sleeping under the stars, he’d read in the brochure. An eternity.
“Only until they reach the first checkpoint because they’re the last team and the others are hours ahead. I’ll wait in my car for their text and then go join the staff at the finish line camp site. We’ll dispatch help from there if any is needed.” She looked dubiously at Vance and his dog. “You’re going to leave too, right? Storm’s only getting started.”
“Sure,” he said faintly. “After one more pit stop for Brutus.”
She arched an eyebrow at his lounging animal. “Um, don’t be offended when I say this, but you might want to get your dog into better physical shape if he’s going to compete.”
Vance kept his expression neutral. “He’s got a lot of inner-core strength.”
To her credit, she did not laugh. “Okay.” She loaded the carton under her arm into her vehicle along with the small table and climbed into her car.
Stephanie and Gina took off. The Jeep’s headlights punched weakly into the gloom.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Ferris hadn’t come to this pocket of nowhere and Vance had misread the clues he thought he’d found. But Stephanie Wolfe was here and that could not be dismissed as a coincidence. He thought he’d been tracking Ferris. Now he had the sinking feeling he’d been played.
A spatter of rain hit his forehead. The isolation struck at him as he lost the distant sound of the Jeep. Just two women and a dog in a great big wilderness. He fingered his keys. Wouldn’t hurt to add two more to the mix, and he probably had enough supplies to keep him and Pudge from starving for a while, just long enough to be sure she was safe. He could pretend to leave, then loop around and follow Steph and Gina without Elizabeth knowing. Steph would have a blowup of epic proportions if she found out he was trailing her.
But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
He grinned down at Brutus. “All right, fella, it’s time to follow our guts, and certainly you’ve got a lot of guts to follow.”
The portly dog whipped his tail at him.
Whatever the fallout, he wasn’t going to live with another failure. If he was wrong, he’d suffer the consequences. But if he was right...
He hoisted his dog into the car and cranked the ignition.
Gina drove slowly, keeping the Jeep in the center of the rugged trail, though the branches scraped the sides as they passed. Time was moving in painful slow motion.
Steph kept her chitchat light, to prevent thoughts of Vance from creeping in. The shock still shuddered through every bone and sinew, but she wasn’t about to reveal that to her companion. “You got the short straw in escorting the last entrant?”
Gina shrugged. “Someone had to do it, so I offered. But I should get hazard pay, since everyone else got the benefit of a couple hours of daylight and no rain. This is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Great photos for my Instagram.”
As they bumped on, Steph went over the map she’d been given. “Starting point should be coming up if you take this trail east.”
“Got it.” Gina peered into the gloom. “Man. It’s only six o’clock but it might as well be night already.”
She’d thought the same. She checked her own supplies and tested her flashlight again, then transferred the contents of the competition backpack to hers.
Gina shot her a surprised look. “You don’t want the official gear?”
“I like my own stuff.” Her supplies had saved her life once, and Chloe’s too when the dog had been bitten by a snake while searching the heavy brush of a canyon. Her gear was personalized right down to the organic snacks she brought. It all came down to rule number two—your gear is the second most important thing for a successful search and rescue.
Gina shrugged. “Suit yourself but take this.” She handed Steph a metallic pouch. “The contest sponsors provided it. Dog food. All organic or some such thing.”
Steph took it to be polite, but she wasn’t going to give Chloe any on account of rule number one—your dog is your most precious colleague. Chloe ate only what Steph had purchased or prepared with her own hands. She loved Chloe, had adored her since the moment her mom handed over the scrawny, underfed bloodhound who’d been dumped by the unscrupulous breeder in a shelter in Southern California. Five years ago, Chloe had been more ears than dog, but she’d grown and become a champion tracker and Steph’s best friend. Sometimes she felt like her only friend, since Vance was no longer in her life. The miles stretched on, fifteen minutes bleeding into a half hour and beyond.
Stephanie rechecked the map and squinted through the rain-speckled windshield. “I wonder why I don’t see any lights. Elizabeth said the checkpoint would be easy to spot. Oh, wait. There it is,” Stephanie said. Off to their right, where the trail dipped down into a flat bowl of grassland and trees, shone a speck of white light.
“Whew. I was worried I’d gotten us lost.” Gina drove them off the road and through a rutted path of grass. Stephanie held the door handle against the jostling, glad she’d tethered Chloe securely in the back seat. After a teeth-rattling twenty minutes, they arrived at the edge of a pine forest.
Stephanie let Chloe free and headed toward the light. “Hello,” she called as they ducked under the trees. She’d expected to see a table, or at least a volunteer with a vest on, but there was no one, only a solitary lantern, beaded with moisture, hanging on a branch. Wind swirled the pine needles, speckling her with cold droplets. Goose bumps erupted on her skin. “I don’t see a GPS tracker anywhere around, do you? Or the supplies?”
Gina frowned. “No. Maybe we did make a wrong turn and this isn’t the spot. I’ll grab my radio from the Jeep. Elizabeth is going to have to drive up here and help us out.” She hurried off.
What was there to get wrong? They were supposed to receive their scent article, a sleeping bag and tent, and take a GPS tracker to carry along. Possibly they’d made an incorrect turn but why would there be a lantern hanging in some random place? Had there been a mix-up?
That probably explained it. She’d been a late entry and likely been left off a list or something. She texted Elizabeth with no response. Chloe was still sniffing, her sides gleaming in the twilight since it was now almost totally dark.
Stephanie looked closer. The lantern swung slightly in the breeze, sending the shadows crawling. Foreboding pulled at her stomach. No reason to jump to conclusions, she told herself. There was no threat here that she could detect. Chloe was calm and curious. She listened for the sound of Gina’s return. Where was she? She would have had time to make it to the Jeep and back. Steph prickled with the desire to get out of the dark woods.
“Chloe.” The dog immediately trotted to her side. She wanted to call out for Gina, but something made her stay silent as they hurried on. Branches cracked at the edge of the clearing.
They froze, listening. Chloe began to growl, nose quivering. Immediately, Steph pulled her weapon as they scurried back to the Jeep. Gina wasn’t in the vehicle.
As she searched the ground for footprints, bullets erupted from a spot in the trees, spraying into the vehicle and carving chunks from the dirt. She grabbed her pack and yelled to Chloe, and they stumbled around to the other side. The shooting continued in a steady stream.
Semiautomatic, her brain told her. She cradled Chloe as the rear window glass showered down around them. Her ears rang with the torturous noise. The shots were sporadic, the noise growing closer.
The shooter was moving, closing the gap, coming to murder her. Plan?
She would not stand much of a chance at returning fire with any accuracy in the dark with the shooter firing at regular intervals. He’d edge around to get a better angle until his bullets penetrated the vehicle and cut them in half.
Her mouth and throat were dry with fear.
A noise behind her position spun her around.
An accomplice closing in from the rear? She fought down the bubbling panic as she clutched Chloe close.
All she could think of was how right her brother had been.
