See Her Die (Bree Taggert #2)(11)



Brody pulled toward the uniformed men gathered in front of a cabin.

“OK. We’ll get on with it.” Matt stood and brushed snow off his cargo pants.

The wind and dampness hit him square in the face, and the air smelled like snow. The dog was right. They’d better get moving. He opened the cargo hatch, took out his pack, and hefted it over one shoulder. Searches could be unpredictable. Matt liked to be prepared. He tugged on a hat and a pair of warm gloves.

Brody whined, spotting Chief Deputy Todd Harvey standing next to his cruiser twenty feet away. The dog’s tail wagged in big sweeps. Matt let the dog pull him toward the deputy.

“Hey, Brody.” Todd rubbed Brody’s ears. “There’s a good boy. How’ve ya been?”

Matt shook his head. “I don’t rate a greeting?”

Still patting the dog, Todd looked up. “You’re OK, but you’re not Brody.”

“Fair enough.” Matt didn’t mind. He preferred his dog over most people too.

Todd pointed to the cabin that sat in the middle of the clearing. “The sheriff is back there with the witness.”

“Thanks.” Matt turned and called Brody to heel. He led the dog around the side of the cabin. He spotted two women through the trees. Even at a distance, he recognized Bree by the way she moved: with purpose. She didn’t waste energy. Every motion of her body was as focused as her mind. In a way, she reminded him of Brody. Once they locked onto a trail, they wouldn’t stop until they’d reached the end.

Bree and the other woman were standing on the edge of Grey Lake. Matt and the dog made their way through the stark, snowy woods. Bree was dressed for the weather in boots and a winter uniform jacket, but she hunched against the wind gusting across the ice.

Winter felt never-ending this year.

She turned toward him as he approached. Her shoulder-length brown hair was tucked into a hat. She wore no makeup, but a clean face suited her. It was the intelligence in her hazel eyes that grabbed him every time.

Underneath her eyes, deep shadows lurked. She’d caught this case only a few hours ago. It wasn’t responsible for any missed sleep. What was worrying her? Was it the same concern that prevented her from returning his text and had caused her to blow off their dinner a few weeks ago? With two orphaned kids, her own grief, and a hot mess of a new job to juggle, her stress level must be off the charts.

“Thanks for coming, Matt.” Bree extended a hand.

“We’ll do what we can.” Matt shook it. The gesture felt oddly formal, considering all they’d been through together. Then Bree’s gaze held his and her eyes smiled at him for an extra heartbeat before she shifted smoothly back into professional mode.

Matt relaxed, just a little.

“This is Alyssa Vincent.” Bree gestured toward the young woman standing next to her. Alyssa’s brown hair and big eyes peeked out from under a wool ski hat. A parka several sizes too large dwarfed her thin frame. From her sunken cheeks, he suspected she was malnourished and gangly under the coat. Her gaze kept darting away from his, and her posture was traumatized and wary in a way that reminded Matt of stray animals that no longer trusted humans for good reasons.

“Nice to meet you, Alyssa.” Matt didn’t reach out to shake her hand for fear of spooking her.

But Brody had no inhibitions. He whined and wagged at her. The girl crouched and stroked his fur. She perked up as she petted the dog. Unlike Bree, the teenager seemed to be calmed by the dog’s presence.

“Alyssa saw a friend get shot here early this morning,” Bree said.

The girl froze, her hand stopping on Brody’s head for a few seconds. Brody bumped her wrist with his nose, and she resumed petting him.

Bree continued. “The friend and the shooter are now missing. I was hoping Brody might be able to track them. I hope you don’t need a scent article.”

She’d seen Brody track only once. She had no idea what his dog was capable of.

“No,” Matt said. “It’s not necessary. I’ll take Brody to the place they were last seen. He should be able to pick up a scent from their footprints. But we won’t know whose scent he’s following.”

“We’ll take what we can get.” Bree tucked a strand of hair under her knit hat. Her nose and cheeks were red from the cold.

“Sheriff Taggert?” a deputy called from the woods. “We found something.”

“Excuse me for a minute.” Bree strode off toward the deputy. A minute later, she called for Matt and Alyssa. They followed her voice. She was surveying an area of flattened snow. “Looks like someone stood behind that tree for a while.”

“He was watching,” Matt suggested. “Do you want Brody to follow the scent from here?”

“Yes. Let’s try it.” She instructed a deputy to take Alyssa to the sheriff’s station and make her comfortable.

Matt scanned the expanse of ice.

“Is he ready?” She inclined her head toward Brody.

“Hold on.” Matt knelt and removed his pack, setting it in the snow. He opened a side pouch and took out Brody’s boots.

“Your dog has boots?” When Bree worked with K-9s, she kept her distance, but Matt could still see the frustration in her eyes as she fought her phobia. She did a hell of a job faking it. He would not have picked up on her small tells if he didn’t already know she was terrified of dogs.

Melinda Leigh's Books