never work again.â
She felt her lips move, but no sound came out. Not a snort. Not a nod. Nothing. She felt as if heâd taken her insides and reeled them out, inch by inch.
Mary didnât even look up from her computer as Dannette shuffled out into the sunshine, but Dannette saw her shake her head.
She didnât care. Dannette hadnât been in SAR for ten years to ignore the niggling in her gut. That girl was in danger.
But so were hundreds of children every summer, and if she dumped her credentials for this ⦠ghost victim, well, maybe real victims would die.
Real victims like Ashley.
And this was about Ashley. Dannetteâs entire life, for that matter, had been about Ashley.
Only ⦠what would she do if that girl was out there ⦠and she did nothing ⦠and she died?
Dannette strode out to her truck and paused. Decades-old emotions churned in her chest as she sighed, looked skyward. God, You know where this girl is. Please, please give me wisdom .
The sun was high and had dried the puddles from yesterday morningâs storm. Dannette blinked as tears filled her eyes. It was times like this, when life felt fragile, that fear seemed to engulf her. It took on breath, filled her soul, and it was only by gazing heavenward that she disentangled herself from its grasp. God was out there, watching, and as long as she told herself that, memories stayed in their dark corners.
But if this girl showed up in a month as ghastly headline news, those memories might start creeping out into the light of day.
Donât forget this girl, Lord. Keep her safe until I find her.
Chapter 7
DANNETTE SPREAD THE topo graphical map over the hood of her pickup, trying to delete Sheriff Faddenâs words from her mind. She seemed to be making friends all over town today, what with her right hook to the resident gossipmonger and her outright in-your-face disobedience to the local law. Good thing Missy still liked her.
The dog scampered around the rest area, playing with a tennis ball. Dannette knew Missy needed playtime before a search, something to separate her from the tension. Even during a search, Dannette brought along a toy, plenty of water, some treats. A dog, like a human, had to decompress from the stress and needed to feel rewarded, despite successes and failures.
A slight wind ruffled Dannetteâs hair, carrying with it the hint of river water, the fresh scent of pine. The sun had begun to slide toward the west end of the day, and shadows reached across the parking lot for her pickup. Even in her layered clothing, Dannette shivered, and she made a mental note to add her down vest to her pack, along with her space blanket, radio, and water supply. Starting a search this late in the day might be the worst possible time, but she didnât expect to go far and would hike out before darkness trapped her in the bramble of the northern forest.
She wished Kelly were here. A thousand voices of reason resonated in her skull, the loudest telling her that going into the woods alone broke every SAR rule she tried to uphold. She could get lost, hurt, disoriented; and if she found the girl, and the victim was wounded, Dannette would have to carry her out herself ⦠or return for help and pray she found her again.
No, a smart K-9 handler, one with years of SAR experience under her belt, would call in reinforcements ⦠like ⦠whom? She scanned through her list of available resources. Nil. Kelly was out of town, working her EMT shift in Duluth and wasnât due back for three days. And, well ⦠beyond that she had no one left on her list of rescuers aching to face Faddenâs firing squad.
Dannette smoothed out the map, drew a line to box in the search territory. Sheâd work in quadrants for now, charting Missyâs responses, and tomorrow when the sun came out, sheâd know how to proceed for a free search.
Unless, of course, there was no one out there, and she was on a
She felt her lips move, but no sound came out. Not a snort. Not a nod. Nothing. She felt as if heâd taken her insides and reeled them out, inch by inch.
Mary didnât even look up from her computer as Dannette shuffled out into the sunshine, but Dannette saw her shake her head.
She didnât care. Dannette hadnât been in SAR for ten years to ignore the niggling in her gut. That girl was in danger.
But so were hundreds of children every summer, and if she dumped her credentials for this ⦠ghost victim, well, maybe real victims would die.
Real victims like Ashley.
And this was about Ashley. Dannetteâs entire life, for that matter, had been about Ashley.
Only ⦠what would she do if that girl was out there ⦠and she did nothing ⦠and she died?
Dannette strode out to her truck and paused. Decades-old emotions churned in her chest as she sighed, looked skyward. God, You know where this girl is. Please, please give me wisdom .
The sun was high and had dried the puddles from yesterday morningâs storm. Dannette blinked as tears filled her eyes. It was times like this, when life felt fragile, that fear seemed to engulf her. It took on breath, filled her soul, and it was only by gazing heavenward that she disentangled herself from its grasp. God was out there, watching, and as long as she told herself that, memories stayed in their dark corners.
But if this girl showed up in a month as ghastly headline news, those memories might start creeping out into the light of day.
Donât forget this girl, Lord. Keep her safe until I find her.
Chapter 7
DANNETTE SPREAD THE topo graphical map over the hood of her pickup, trying to delete Sheriff Faddenâs words from her mind. She seemed to be making friends all over town today, what with her right hook to the resident gossipmonger and her outright in-your-face disobedience to the local law. Good thing Missy still liked her.
The dog scampered around the rest area, playing with a tennis ball. Dannette knew Missy needed playtime before a search, something to separate her from the tension. Even during a search, Dannette brought along a toy, plenty of water, some treats. A dog, like a human, had to decompress from the stress and needed to feel rewarded, despite successes and failures.
A slight wind ruffled Dannetteâs hair, carrying with it the hint of river water, the fresh scent of pine. The sun had begun to slide toward the west end of the day, and shadows reached across the parking lot for her pickup. Even in her layered clothing, Dannette shivered, and she made a mental note to add her down vest to her pack, along with her space blanket, radio, and water supply. Starting a search this late in the day might be the worst possible time, but she didnât expect to go far and would hike out before darkness trapped her in the bramble of the northern forest.
She wished Kelly were here. A thousand voices of reason resonated in her skull, the loudest telling her that going into the woods alone broke every SAR rule she tried to uphold. She could get lost, hurt, disoriented; and if she found the girl, and the victim was wounded, Dannette would have to carry her out herself ⦠or return for help and pray she found her again.
No, a smart K-9 handler, one with years of SAR experience under her belt, would call in reinforcements ⦠like ⦠whom? She scanned through her list of available resources. Nil. Kelly was out of town, working her EMT shift in Duluth and wasnât due back for three days. And, well ⦠beyond that she had no one left on her list of rescuers aching to face Faddenâs firing squad.
Dannette smoothed out the map, drew a line to box in the search territory. Sheâd work in quadrants for now, charting Missyâs responses, and tomorrow when the sun came out, sheâd know how to proceed for a free search.
Unless, of course, there was no one out there, and she was on a
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