Play Fetch: An Avery Barks Dog Mystery (Avery Barks Dog Mysteries Book 3) (5 page)

“I need you to bring Chevy to a search,” Don said over the phone.

I laughed at what I presumed was a joke.  Chevy had failed miserably at search and rescue dog pre-tests, playing with butterflies the entire time.  He had a big heart and I loved him dearly, but he was not a working dog by any sense of the imagination.

“I’m serious.  We’re back out at the Leeder residence, but this time it’s the little girl that’s gone,” Don said.

“Anna?” I asked, my heart clenching in sudden fear.

“Yes, and we think that she’s running from us,” he said.

“What?”

“Evidently, when she saw the news after school about her cousin being arrested, she screamed ‘They’re going to put me in jail’ and ran out the door.”

“Why would anyone arrest her, she’s just a little kid?”

“We’re not arresting her.  But we think she’s scared of us and running from us. There’s a cold front coming in and we need to find her before hypothermia sets in,” Don said.

My back tensed up. “I’m on my way, but it’ll get too cold for Chevy to be left out in the truck.”

“Bring Chevy with you.  Miss Brenda says the girl loves him, and Anna will not run if Chevy’s with us.”

“I guess it’s worth a try.”

###

Don was pacing back and forth in the Leeder’s driveway when I arrived on scene.  His cheeks and nose were red from the cold air and I could see his breath. 

“We’re heading out to a pasture about a quarter mile behind the old shed across the road,” he said as he opened my passenger door and jumped in. 

“Drive down that path over there and I’ll show you.” He pointed to a dirt road leading back toward the old shed.

He spoke into his radio, “Stand-by, we’re on our way.”

Someone answered, “Ten-four.”

“Ace worked Anna’s trail back this way and found her little bike in the bottom of a small ditch over there.”  He pointed across the field.

“Okay. Then where’d he go from there?” I asked.

“He sliced one of his pads on some broken glass.  One of the guys drove him out to the vet to get him stitched up.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, they notified the office and Dr. Arrowood was waiting for him when they got there.” 

Don pointed up ahead at a group of three searchers kneeling down on a path that ran between two pastures as a light snow began to fall. 

“We found a small print in a patch of dirt over there.  The tread matches the bottom of the girl’s tennis shoes.”

“Then we better stop here,” I said.

“Do you have another search dog on the way?” I asked as we got out of the truck.

“Gino’s coming, but Susan was at work so she has to go pick him up at the house.  They’ll get here in about an hour, but with these cold conditions…” Don trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence.  He shook his head as he looked out toward the woods.

One of the guys from the group trotted over to the truck as we got out.

“Sorry about your dog getting hurt, Don.” He patted him on the shoulder.  “Hi, Avery. Thanks for coming.” He nodded to me.

“Thanks, buddy,” Don said.

“They’re covering the footprint with a tarp. Gonna try to keep any snow off of it.  What’s the plan?”

Don said, “Avery and I will continue out in that next field to search.  Chevy will be coming along because he’s Anna’s friend.  That might make her more comfortable and draw her out.”

“If she’s not hypothermic by now,” the searcher said.

“Let’s hope not,” I answered.

“You guys keep working the rest of this pasture and the set of woods behind it,” Don instructed.

“Keep your radios turned down real low so she doesn’t hear radio traffic echoing across these fields.  It might sound like the police to her,” I said.

The three of us grabbed our radios in unison and lowered the volume.  I pulled out my larger pack from the bed of my truck and stuffed a small thermos of soup and an extra jacket inside.  Don took notice and turned to the other searcher.

“If you find her, put a coat on her to start warming her up and call for help right away,” he said.

The man nodded in agreement.

I let Chevy out of the truck and he romped around greeting Don and the other searcher.  He was not a search dog and was not here to function as one.  Chevy was this little girl’s friend and our hope was that seeing him would keep her from running away from us if we found her.

I grabbed Chevy’s box of tennis balls and dumped most of them into a bucket to lighten the load.  When Chevy saw the box, I had his full attention. 

“Hey Chevy, where’s Anna?” I asked. “Want to play ball with Anna?”

My dog looked around just like he did at her house the night before.  Snowflakes started to stick to the top of his head and he gave an excited bark.

Don and I walked out into the next pasture, in the same direction that the footprint appeared to be headed.  I shook the box as we walked and said, “Chevy, let’s play ball with Anna!”

He ran in a big circle, barking, then jumped up reaching his nose toward the box of balls.

“We have to find Anna to play,” I said, and swung the box away from him while we marched across the pasture, looking for little tennis shoe prints as we went. 

The ground was mostly covered with grass, but there were some patches of dirt that could have captured a footprint had she come through.  The snow was starting to stick and would cover any chance of seeing prints in the dirt before long.

Don and I kept a distance between us, searching for clues as we headed in the same general direction across the field toward our search area. Chevy romped back and forth between us, and every so often I shook his box of tennis balls and mentioned Anna’s name.

Every one of my senses was on high alert.  My eyes scanned the ground looking for clues and cut back and forth across the distance looking for any movement or something out of place. 

Normally, I would’ve called out Anna’s name and listened for a response.  But with a child afraid of responders, that could’ve just caused her to hide.  My ears were alert for any sounds that may come from a little girl’s voice or a rustling of branches from movement in the woods.  There was nothing.

I was conscious of the smell of nature and any other scent that might come with the soft breeze.  Perhaps smoke from a small fire, the smell of urine or feces, or anything that might give us a clue to help find this girl.

I knelt down and touched a small broken branch lying on the ground. It was possible that a seven-year-old girl could have cracked it by stepping on the dry wood as she walked through here, but it was hard to tell. I felt the cold ground under my knee and was reminded that it was getting way too cold out here for a child, even with a winter jacket. I got up and brushed the dead grass from my knees and kept moving forward.

Don and I crossed paths as we reached the wooded area on the far side of the pasture.  His winter hat and the shoulders of his navy blue jacket were dotted with a few flakes of snow.  He checked the time on his cell phone and said, “How long do you think she can make it out in this cold?”

“She’s pretty tough,” I said as I adjusted the pack on my back and hoped what I said was true.

“Right, I’ll run the edge of this woods line and see if I can find any tracks. You can start working this area,” Don said as he pulled a topo map from his jacket pocket and drew a circle that corresponded to woodlands in front of us.

As I entered the woods with Chevy behind me, I noticed there was very little underbrush, and Anna could have walked through it in most any direction.  Chevy bounded ahead and disappeared for a couple minutes, returning with great exuberance.  He ran up and rubbed against my legs, getting the very bottom of my pants soaking wet.  True to his retriever roots, he had found some shallow water and walked right through it.

I quickly found a small creek, about three inches deep running through the woods.  I scanned the edge of the bank in both directions and my eye caught evidence of fresh shoe prints next to the water. My heart first leapt, then sank.

The tiny tracks went in one side of the creek and came out the other. We were working in the right area, but Anna’s feet were probably wet, making time even more critical with the cold weather. I took a tennis ball out of the box and tossed it to Chevy.  “Anna wants to play ball,” I said as I hurried in the direction the footprints, kicking up dead leaves with each step. 

I quietly took the radio out of my pocket and gave Don my location in a soft voice.  I stood silently for a moment listening for any sound.  There was nothing but Chevy rustling the leaves as he trotted through the woods. As I debated whether to call out for Anna, I took a minute to look in all directions around me.

Out in front of me and to the right, I barely saw the tip of Chevy’s golden furry tail sticking out from behind a big log, wagging as hard as it would go. 
He found something he likes
, I thought, and wondered what type of forest animal he was bothering.  Or,
Could it be?

Then I heard it.  A little soft voice said, “Chevy!”

I turned the volume all the way down on my radio and hurried over to Chevy’s wagging tail.  As I looked over the downed log and Chevy’s back, I found Anna crouched down on a pile of branches hugging Chevy’s neck and sobbing.

She was tucked in under a cove of small branches that had been lined up against part of the log to create a little bit of shelter. Chevy’s wagging tail had already knocked down a few of the branches. 

I was relieved to see that she was wearing Austin’s white winter hat for warmth, but her body shivered under her clothes.  An oversized white sweatshirt sporting a familiar black skull covered her little blue jacket.  The sweatshirt was so big on her that the sleeves covered her hands and its bottom reached the ground like a long dress.  I noticed the edge of the sweatshirt was wet from the creek.

“Hey Anna, wanna play ball with Chevy?” I asked as I held out the familiar box of tennis balls. 

“Okay,” she said softly, and tried to wipe away her tears.

“I brought you some warm clothes,” I said, and sat down on the log beside her. “Let’s trade my jacket for the sweatshirt, but we’ll keep your jacket on though, okay?  We’ll just put my jacket over the top of yours.”

She took off her top layer sweatshirt, and I took off my jacket, warmed by body heat, and wrapped it around her, pulling the over-sized hood over her hat.  “That looks good on you!” I said as I put my gloves on her cold hands and Chevy snuggled beside her.

She gave me a smile.

“Do you like chicken noodle soup?” I asked and pulled the thermos out of my pack and unscrewed the cup.

She nodded her head and sat up.

“Good, drink some of this and it will help you warm up,” I said as I poured out a cupful of warm soup and sat down next to her to create some additional body heat.  Chevy and I had her cuddled in between us, like a little Anna sandwich. 

While she gulped down the soup, I dug through my pack for the jacket I had packed inside, and put it on, feeling the chill of the cold material until it warmed with my body. I stuffed Anna’s wet sweatshirt in its place to carry it out.

“I like your little cave here, where’d you learn how to make it?” I asked.

“Papa taught me,” she said.  Her chin quivered as she looked up at her handiwork.

“Anna, I know you trust Chevy. Right?” I asked.

She nodded and hugged him tight.

“Can you trust me too?” 

“Okay,” she said.

“Your Papa is worried about you,” I said. “Can I call him and tell him to come pick us up on his four-wheeler?” I asked, my hand resting on the radio in my pants pocket.

Her little face crinkled up and she started crying uncontrollably.  I put my arm around her shoulders and said, “You’re not in any trouble, Anna.  We just want you to be warm and safe.”

“But they’ll arrest me like they did Austin,” she sobbed.  “My cousin said the computer stick had the power to get him arrested.”

“Did Austin give you the plastic computer stick?” I carefully controlled my tone.

She shook her head no as Chevy licked away the tears streaming down her face.

“I found it on the front steps in his hat,” she said as she touched the mini pocket on the side of the trapper hat.

“Well guess what, the police think you’re a hero and they’re not going to arrest you. In fact, I’m going to tell you a little secret,” I said.   I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “They’re planning to give you an award for saving your Papa’s life the other day.”

Her eyes got big and the tears stopped flowing.  “They are?” she whispered.

I nodded my head in agreement. “Even your friend, Ace the search dog, is going to be there.  You don’t want to miss that, do you?”

A big grin broke out across her face as the over-sized white hat fell down over her eyes.

I gripped my radio, turned up the volume and slowly brought it to my mouth.