Her hand was shaking too hard for the writing to be legible, so Creed reached for it. “I can write it for you.”
“Ginny,” she said, then reeled out her number.
Creed took a picture of the information, sent that on, then slid the notebook back into the thigh pocket on his Iniquus gray camo tactical pants. “What’s the boy’s name, the name he would come to if I called it out?”
“Jeb.”
“Jeb,” Creed repeated. “And when did you see him last?” He handed the phone back.
She accepted it and looked at the time. “Fifteen minutes ago, I saw him going into the woods. I told him he could run around a bit, but to stay on the grass. But when I looked up, I saw him going in over there.” She pointed out toward the place she’d been staring. “Then I shouted at the big guy with the red hair andthe security uniform, and he said he’d get the dog team. You. He got you.” The woman’s gaze bore into him almost accusatorily as if wondering why he was over here lollygagging around.
“Yes, ma’am, two more things, and I’ll be out looking for Jeb. From the picture, I couldn’t see what kind of shoes he was wearing. If you could remember that, it would be helpful, and if you had something he was wearing for a while, I can give that to Rou so she can help me track him down.”
“You’re it? There’s not a whole team?”
“We’re going to see what Rou and I can come up with.” He pulled a bag from the side pocket of Rou’s vest. “If it looks like we need to get more people involved, I’ll call it in, and they’ll gather the State emergency services to mount a full search.”
“Jeb’s wearing tennis shoes. They have paw prints on the bottoms.” The mom opened her backpack and began digging through it. After a moment, she pulled out a dirty sock and spread it on her thigh.
Creed thought she was checking the size to make sure she got the right child’s scent, then held it out to Creed, who opened the bag for her to drop it in. “Does Jeb have any disabilities? Is he on any medications? Is there anything I need to know about in advance?”
“No.” Her breathing started to hitch, and Creed needed her to hold off just a bit more.
Creed put his hand on hers to keep her focused on the exchange of information, rather than her feelings. Her feelings had a place, just not now. “When I call Jeb, what was he taught? Will he hide from a stranger?”
That seemed to startle the mother. She looked down at the ground and stared hard.
“Is there a family code? A word that you use to tell Jeb that this is a safe person that his parents sent?”
“Yes.” She blinked back the tears and shifted to stare at the sky.
Creed took a chance to look up too. The storm wasn’t supposed to be here until after fifteen hundred hours. Everyone should be good and gone by then. He brought his gaze back to hers, so she would look at him.
“Yo-ho-ho,” she whispered.
“Yo-ho-ho?” Creed asked.
“No, well, ‘Yo-ho-ho, Jeb. There you are, matey. I have a message from your mum, I do.’” Her voice warbled as she put on a pirate's accent.
Creed pulled out his phone. “I’m recording. Say it to Jeb and tell him what you want him to do. When I find him, I can play the video for him. I want him to feel safe.”
Creed watched the mother’s face being molded into calm as if by hands on clay; the terror lifted from her eyes. She pulled in a breath, then tapped the red record dot. “Jebadiah, I saw you wander into the woods, and I couldn’t chase after you. I found this good guy to go get you. He has his dog with him. When you see this, you should know,” her voice took on the same pirating lilt as earlier. “Yo-ho-ho, Jeb. There you are, matey. Follow the man back to your mum and Cabell.” After she finished talking, she tapped the button and pressed the phone back toward Creed. The desperation was back in her eyes.
That effort looked like it had physically cost her.
“Nothing else I need to know?” Creed asked gently. “Anything that will be an issue out there?” he verified.
“He’s naughty by nature—impulsive. But that’s evident, right?”
Creed bladed his hand and pointed to a dark space between two tall trees where she’d been staring.
“Yes, right through there,” she whispered.
“But he started off by speaking with you here on this blanket?”
“Yes,” she whispered and reached for Cabell, pulling the toddler back into her arms.
A tree was a tree was a tree. In the woods—or in this case, looking at the woods—someone can get turned around. If Creed started Rou at that gap in the trees and it was the wrong one, they could lose precious time outside of the scent cone.
