Page 85 of Midnight Creed

He talked in such a convincing manner, Brodie expected Will to peek out and wave down to them. But she noticed Ryder kept glancing over at Grace as she pranced around. He was looking for some indication from his dog that Will might actually still be up there.

Grace cocked her head at the word. For her, “Will” was a scent she was asked to find, and she had accomplished that. To Grace, Will was not a little boy they hoped would come crawling out of the bulldozer’s cab. Ryder had explained how the dogs didn’t have emotions for the people they searched for. To Grace, Will was simply a scent on a worn pair of sneakers.

Brodie jotted notes. She wrote down the time and took photos of the footprint, especially its proximity to the machine. On her sector map, she carefully placed an “X.”

She looked back at Ryder to see he looked miserable, waiting for Sheriff Norwich. Patience was not one of his strengths. Brodie knew he wanted to climb up and see for himself. He took two steps back instead, making sure he didn’t disturb the smaller footprints.

Evidence at a crime scene.

Both Ryder and Jason had drilled it into her at every practice session. Any search could risk disturbing a possible crime scene. Suddenly, that thought struck her. She had prepared herself to help look for a missing boy. Maybe a lost boy. She wasn’t ready to find a dead boy.

Jason’s voice came over the radio, jolting her back. She turned up the volume so Ryder could also listen.

“We’re across from the entrance. Scout pulled me through the ditch. We came up onto the other side of the highway. Back behind some trees, there looks like fresh footprints. Deep treads like new shoes and small enough to be Will’s. But Scout really wants to continue into that Woodriver neighborhood.”

Ryder clicked on his radio. “Hold up a few minutes, okay?” he told Jason. “We need to check something here.” Then he waved as if he could see him.

But instead of Jason and Scout, Brodie turned to find Sheriff Norwich marching diagonally across lawns, not wasting time by sticking to the paved streets. A tall deputy accompanied her. It was just the two of them.

“Brodie, Ryder, this is Deputy Lucas Trevor. That’s Grace. And Hank.”

Brodie watched him take in the dogs before his attention came back to them. She thought he looked awfully young to be a deputy, but when his eyes met hers, she recognized an old soul even in those brief seconds.

He tipped his ball cap to her and Ryder, a polite acknowledgment or perhaps simply an excuse to wipe back the sweat off his forehead. The air was cool, but the humidity had ticked up. Brodie hated the damp chill. It easily brought memories of a cold basement floor that smelled of mildew.

While Norwich and Deputy Trevor discussed the best way for him to climb up, Brodie used the pause in their search to offer water to Hank and Grace. Then she got a drink for herself. She didn’t realize that in the back of her mind she’d started a mantra that now drummed against her temples.

Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.

It continued as Deputy Trevor pulled on latex gloves. It seemed to pound louder as his long legs climbed up the huge trackers. His fingers grabbed the first rung on the metal ladder. In seconds, he stood on the platform and hesitated as he peered through the dusty window on the machine’s door.

Brodie couldn’t help wondering how a seven-year-old boy had managed to climb up. Though Deputy Trevor didn’t need to use them, the grooves in the tracker could possibly work as footholds and fingerholds.

Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.

Why was he taking so long? The cab wasn’t so big that he couldn’t see what was inside.

“Nobody here,” he finally said.

Brodie heard a collective sigh from Ryder and the sheriff.

As he opened the door, he said, “But he might have been inside.”

The hinges screeched, then the door caught the breeze and slapped against the metal side of the machine before the deputy secured it.

All of them waited as he snapped photos of the interior, then handed the phone down to Norwich. He stayed on the platform, waiting for her instructions.

Ryder came alongside the sheriff to take a look, so Brodie moved in close on the other side.

Mostly, it looked like someone had left their trash on the floor: several candy wrappers, a couple of empty water bottles, and a Kool-Aid juice pouch with the straw still sticking out. There were also crushed pieces of paper with what looked like colorful marks.

“I’ll check with the construction company, but this certainly looks like it could have been a seven-year-old.”

“Maybe he played up there,” Brodie suggested. “It would be a cool hideaway.”

“Who knows how long ago he was here, though?”

“It doesn’t look like the bulldozer has moved in a few days,” Deputy Trevor offered.