“Hey, Wendy, can I help you find something?”
“I’m here to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
Wary now, Kenzie hesitated. “If this is about Harrison Conrad…”
Wendy shook her head. “It’s about yesterday’s search and the work you do for the Team. My editor wants a feature about you and Gizmo.”
“Seriously?” Kenzie had been doing SAR and HRD work for years. The paper had never taken an interest before. “Why? Slow news day?”
Wendy laughed. “Every day is a slow news day in Scarlet. She wants more features that showcase the talents and work of locals. There are a lot of special people who live in this town, so why not write about them?”
Kenzie had never thought of herself as doing something special. “Aren’t you afraid of boring your readers into a coma?”
“My job is to make it interesting. I’ll put in a fundraising pitch for the Team, too.”
That sealed the deal. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Wendy’s face lit up. “Can I ask you questions now? I’ll record the answers, so it will be like having a conversation. Then maybe I can get a photo of you and Gizmo together.”
“Okay, but if someone comes in, I’ll need to stop to help them.”
Wendy set up her recorder and took out a pad of paper on which she’d written a long list of questions. What had drawn Kenzie to training SAR and HRD dogs? How exactly did one train a dog to find missing people or human remains? Which dog breeds were best for this kind of work? How many hours a week did she spend training Gizmo? Didn’t it creep her out to keep a container with human remains in her freezer? What other kinds of work did she do with dogs?
Those were easy to answer.
But then the questions grew more personal.
What was the worst call she’d ever been on? How did she cope with searches like yesterday’s that end with finding a dead body? What exactly had she seen out there?
Kenzie did her best to remain professional, images from yesterday flooding her mind. “The worst calls are those involving children or those where you find nothing. You know the person is out there, but you can’t find a trace of them. You can’t give the family closure. When that happens, I try to take a step back and tell myself that we did everything we could. It’s not always easy. As for yesterday’s call, that was tough, but it’s part of an ongoing police investigation. I can’t comment.”
Wendy didn’t push her but seemed satisfied with her answers. “Thanks so much. That’s all great. If we can snap a photo, I’ll get out of your hair.”
Kenzie put a “Be Right Back” sign in the store’s window—she could get away with that in Scarlet—then went next door to get Gizmo. She brushed him, put him in his work harness, and went out to her backyard. It didn’t dawn on her until then that she might want to put on some makeup or brush her hair.
Wendy took out a big DSLR camera and pointed to the north side of the yard. “The light is perfect in front of those aspens, and they’ll make a nice backdrop.”
Kenzie led Gizmo over to the aspens. “Sit. Good boy.”
She knelt down beside him, turned her face toward Wendy.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.
Wendy took several shots then looked at the results. “Oh, that’s perfect. You can tell how much you love Gizmo and how much he loves you.”
Kenzie stood, looked at the little screen on the camera. “Those turned out really well. Thanks.”
“Thank you.” Wendy put the camera back in its bag. “I think people are going to love this. By the way, if you’re concerned about Conrad, you might want to know that the media have staked out his place—TV production vans, print media, all of it.”
“What? Why?”
“Everyone wants his story. I was there for a while, but I left. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk. He won’t answer his door or come out.”
Good for Harrison.
“I wish they would leave him alone.”
“I’m sorry.” Wendy handed Kenzie her card. “If he wants to talk to a reporter who won’t cross his boundaries, here’s my card.”
