Marna pointed at a fading bruise on Amber’s forehead.
Sommer pointed to the red welt around the girl’s wrist, only visible in one of the pictures, then caught Marna’s eye.
Wendy must be a good search-and-rescue person because none of that exchange went unnoticed. “You saw Amber’s wrist?”
Sommer held the picture out to Abbie so she could see, too.
“The family was trying out a tracking bracelet to see if Amber could tolerate it. She has sensitivity to things that touch her skin, and it was too much for her to handle. Trying to get it off left that mark.”
Marna sent Wendy a skeptical look.
“Her mother has taken to recording episodes on video because well-meaning people are often concerned about Amber’s bruising, especially on her forehead. Amber finds relief by banging her head on hard surfaces when she’s frustrated.” Wendy took a step back. “Because of Amber’s sensitivities, we won’t be calling out the children’s names on this rescue because Amber will hide from noise and strangers. That means we have to be as quiet as possible in the woods so that we can listen carefully.”
Wendy paused for radio traffic.
“We have a management team supporting us. We’ll stay in contact with them throughout. Now, if the children are spotted, please note that while emotions will run high, you will contain them. You will not race toward the children unless they are in immediate danger. If you see the children, you will stop and put your hand up in the air.” Wendy demonstrated by taking the extra step of putting her other hand over her mouth. “If you see someone’s hand up, you will stop and put your handup, and that way the whole team becomes aware. At that point,” Wendy turned their way. “Marna and Sommer will approach the children appropriately.”
Again they had to pause for radio chatter. It sounded to Sommer like they were checking in, making sure no man was left behind. That team had seven plus a K9.
Sommer would like to see a dog in action on a search. She’d only seen it on film.
When the radio person said “Out,” Wendy began her instructions again. “Also remember, the entire mountain is considered a possible crime site.” She turned to Diane. “That’s protocol on every search.”
Diane gave her a thumbs up.
“Don’t touch anything you find on the trail, but do point it out to me. Again, once we’re in the woods, we will walk in silence using all of our senses, especially paying attention to our guts. Our brains take in far more information than we consciously process. If you sense something, signal, and we’ll follow up. No worries if you’re wrong. We follow all clues.”
Wendy tucked her map and the photos into a silicone sleeve that dangled from her pack.
“Ladies, thank you for coming out in the middle of the night. Take a final moment to use the bathroom, check that you have sufficient water and a functioning headlamp; we’ll meet back here in five minutes and off we’ll go.”
Chapter Ten
Gabriel
Gabriel lay flat on his back with his laced fingers resting on the top of his head; the pillow supported his elbows as he drifted in that soft space between sleep and wake with his mind filled with memories.
Before he climbed under the covers, Gabriel had placed Whiskey’s nest on the floor on Gabriel’s side of the bed. He’d have to remember Whiskey was there if he got up in the night. She lay close enough that by draping his arm over the mattress, Gabriel could make contact.
It was the same configuration that Daniel had set up when he was in hospice.
Gabriel thought there had been a lot of upheaval for Whiskey in the last couple of weeks, and the familiarity of the positioning might help her settle in.
It seemed to work. There was Whiskey flat on her own back, her little paws hooked into the air, snoring deeply. It was a nice sound. It came and went like ocean waves or a baby being rocked as a mother hummed a song from some olden-days tune.
For a moment, Gabriel was back, his childhood curled up on the couch, watching cartoons, holding the ear of his childhood Labrador retriever, Spunky.
Closing his eyes, Gabriel remembered his mom bringing baby Daniel down the stairs. Overwrapped in his blanket, their mom had tucked baby Daniel up against Spunky’s stomach, resting Daniel's head on the dog’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on the baby while I go to the bathroom.”
Spunky's ears had been a place of soothing and calm when his little boy feelings had been hard, when he was tired or hungry, when the world just seemed too big for someone his size.
Nothing bad ever happened when Spunky was around.
Dogs were good medicine.
Gabriel turned over and reached for Whiskey’s ear, focusing on Whiskey’s face and whispered. “I don’t know that Whiskey is the best name for you. What with your sweet disposition and droopy jowls, I would probably have called you something like Saint Mary of Perpetual Sorrow.”
As Gabriel contemplated that name, another memory came back to him.
