night-night.” She patted the bed beside her and stretched out
next to the canine.
He reached for the light and doused it. Any
other time. Any other place. Or any other woman. What he wouldn’t
give to be curled up alongside Bette. But she wasn’t a good-time
gal. She was for keeps.
And he never played for keeps.
“Alex?” Soft as a sigh, her voice drifted
across the gap between their beds.
“Yeah?” He pushed up on one elbow. What
now ?
“Do you think there’s still hope?”
“What’s the matter?” To hide his real
thoughts on the matter, he tried a glib response. “You the one
losing faith now?”
“Trying not to.”
He heard a quiet sniff. Was she crying?
“But it just seems like she’s been gone
forever.”
Over twenty-four hours when, according to
statistics, it was likely she’d been dead for twenty-one of them.
And Cody. For some reason, he felt the need to bolster her mood.
“Tomorrow’s a new day. We can move back into the house. We’ll meet
up with Rigby and see what we can do with his superdog bloodhound.
Like you said earlier—and loudly, if I remember correctly—stay
positive. And something about not inviting negative energy.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?” She let out a
long sigh that almost ripped out his heart.
“Go to sleep, Jersey. Another long day
ahead.”
“We have to find them.”
“We will.” It wasn’t a lie. They’d be found.
Bodies usually were…sooner or later.
Chapter Thirteen
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear with a
bit of dew remaining on the grass when Alex and Bette checked out
of the motel. They took their bags back to Bette’s apartment and
left the Sheltie there as well. After hitting the drive-through at
Tim Horton’s, they headed over to the animal clinic. Rigby was
already waiting in his SUV when they pulled into the lot.
Alex drained the last of his coffee and
popped the two remaining Timbits in his mouth. “You didn’t have to
eat ’em all,” he said, mumbling because his mouth was full of the
doughnut holes.
“I figured you were a health nut with that
G-man physique of yours.” She opened her door. “At least I had a Diet Coke with mine. Saved a bunch of calories too.”
He grunted at her “saved a bunch of calories”
remark. “Right.” Easing from the compact, he waved at Rigby.
“Morning.” Where was the dog? Maybe in the back of the trainer’s
massive, dark green SUV. Increasing tension between his shoulder
blades reminded him of his phobia. He sucked in a deep breath. Just a dog. A very helpful dog .
“You think we’ve had too much rain?”
“Depends on how much fell in this part of
town. A light rain might actually intensify the scent. Did you
bring a scent article?”
“We have the blouse and shoes Jackie wore the
day before she disappeared.” Bette proffered the scent items, which
were still in the plastic bag.
Alex shifted from one foot to the other while
he watched Rigby open the back of his SUV and release the
bloodhound from his cage. Damn. The dog was bigger than Alex
remembered. To hide his discomfort, he asked the dog trainer, “What
makes this breed better at tracking scents than others?”
Rigby rubbed his chin. “Might say he’s
engineered by nature for scent tracking, from the olfactory center
in his brain to his long ears.”
“Looks like those ears would get in his way,”
Alex said. “He ever step on them?”
“They aren’t there for looks, son.” The dog
trainer let out a chuckle. “They sorta sweep along close to the
ground and gather the scent in the dog’s nostrils. And his
low-to-the-ground body is just another part of how form follows
function. Has to be kept fit too. Dog like this ’un will keep going
for miles. Long as there’s scent.”
“Wow.” Alex scratched the side of his head.
“What about tracking in the city? I can see how they would do well
in an open field, tracking an escaped felon.” Why couldn’t he just
shut up and let the man get on
next to the canine.
He reached for the light and doused it. Any
other time. Any other place. Or any other woman. What he wouldn’t
give to be curled up alongside Bette. But she wasn’t a good-time
gal. She was for keeps.
And he never played for keeps.
“Alex?” Soft as a sigh, her voice drifted
across the gap between their beds.
“Yeah?” He pushed up on one elbow. What
now ?
“Do you think there’s still hope?”
“What’s the matter?” To hide his real
thoughts on the matter, he tried a glib response. “You the one
losing faith now?”
“Trying not to.”
He heard a quiet sniff. Was she crying?
“But it just seems like she’s been gone
forever.”
Over twenty-four hours when, according to
statistics, it was likely she’d been dead for twenty-one of them.
And Cody. For some reason, he felt the need to bolster her mood.
“Tomorrow’s a new day. We can move back into the house. We’ll meet
up with Rigby and see what we can do with his superdog bloodhound.
Like you said earlier—and loudly, if I remember correctly—stay
positive. And something about not inviting negative energy.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?” She let out a
long sigh that almost ripped out his heart.
“Go to sleep, Jersey. Another long day
ahead.”
“We have to find them.”
“We will.” It wasn’t a lie. They’d be found.
Bodies usually were…sooner or later.
Chapter Thirteen
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear with a
bit of dew remaining on the grass when Alex and Bette checked out
of the motel. They took their bags back to Bette’s apartment and
left the Sheltie there as well. After hitting the drive-through at
Tim Horton’s, they headed over to the animal clinic. Rigby was
already waiting in his SUV when they pulled into the lot.
Alex drained the last of his coffee and
popped the two remaining Timbits in his mouth. “You didn’t have to
eat ’em all,” he said, mumbling because his mouth was full of the
doughnut holes.
“I figured you were a health nut with that
G-man physique of yours.” She opened her door. “At least I had a Diet Coke with mine. Saved a bunch of calories too.”
He grunted at her “saved a bunch of calories”
remark. “Right.” Easing from the compact, he waved at Rigby.
“Morning.” Where was the dog? Maybe in the back of the trainer’s
massive, dark green SUV. Increasing tension between his shoulder
blades reminded him of his phobia. He sucked in a deep breath. Just a dog. A very helpful dog .
“You think we’ve had too much rain?”
“Depends on how much fell in this part of
town. A light rain might actually intensify the scent. Did you
bring a scent article?”
“We have the blouse and shoes Jackie wore the
day before she disappeared.” Bette proffered the scent items, which
were still in the plastic bag.
Alex shifted from one foot to the other while
he watched Rigby open the back of his SUV and release the
bloodhound from his cage. Damn. The dog was bigger than Alex
remembered. To hide his discomfort, he asked the dog trainer, “What
makes this breed better at tracking scents than others?”
Rigby rubbed his chin. “Might say he’s
engineered by nature for scent tracking, from the olfactory center
in his brain to his long ears.”
“Looks like those ears would get in his way,”
Alex said. “He ever step on them?”
“They aren’t there for looks, son.” The dog
trainer let out a chuckle. “They sorta sweep along close to the
ground and gather the scent in the dog’s nostrils. And his
low-to-the-ground body is just another part of how form follows
function. Has to be kept fit too. Dog like this ’un will keep going
for miles. Long as there’s scent.”
“Wow.” Alex scratched the side of his head.
“What about tracking in the city? I can see how they would do well
in an open field, tracking an escaped felon.” Why couldn’t he just
shut up and let the man get on
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