The Troublesome Angel Read online

  She extended her left hand, Clark’s leash held tightly in her fist. “Okay, take this. Borrow some survival gear and meet me back here in five minutes. I’m putting you in charge of this dog.”

  “Me?” Graydon’s scowl deepened.

  “Why not? You said he likes you.”

  “Yes, but… What if I make a mistake? I don’t know anything about search and rescue.”

  “Then you and the dog are about even,” Stacy countered. “He doesn’t either.” She heard the sheriff chuckle in the background.

  Graydon snatched the leash out of her hand. “That’s comforting.”

  “I thought you’d like it.” She met his challenging gaze boldly. “See if you can find something else the little girl touched recently, preferably an item of her clothing. Bring it with you when you come back. Remember, five minutes, tops. After that, I’ll be gone.”

  To avoid any more argumentative conversation, she turned her back on Graydon Payne and concentrated solely on the sheriff. “Now, Frank, what other evidence have you turned up and what else can you tell me before I leave?”

  Graydon returned within three minutes, much to Stacy’s chagrin. Over his suit he wore a bright-orange, hooded sweatshirt, the kind hunters used to keep from being confused with their prey. He reached into the pocket of the coat and brought out a small, pink glove with white-and-brown bunnies knit into the pattern on the cuff. “Will this do? I found it at the edge of camp.”

  Stacy recognized it as the mate to the plastic-wrapped glove the sheriff had passed on to her. “Why didn’t you give that to Frank?”

  “He has the other one. In all the confusion I forgot I’d stuffed this one in my pocket.”

  “You’re sure it’s hers?”

  “Positive. I bought these gloves and a matching jacket for Missy—Melissa—when I heard Mark and Candace were taking her camping. They said she loved them…wore them all the time, even at home.”

  A twinge of mild regret stirred in Stacy’s heart. So, Mark was married, just as she’d figured. To her surprise, the thought didn’t linger long enough to make her melancholy. There was no time for self-pity. A poor, frightened child was wandering alone in the wilderness, probably crying, freezing and hungry. That was all that mattered.

  She looked to Graydon. “Okay. Show me exactly where you found the glove. We’ll start there.”

  “It was over by the rest rooms, on a path that leads into the forest.” He pointed. “That way.”

  “And you’re sure she left of her own accord?”

  “Positive. Several people saw her go.”

  “Okay.” Taking the glove, Stacy held it for Lewis to smell, then guided him in the direction Graydon had indicated. It didn’t take him long to strike a trail, put his nose to the ground and start into the woods at a fast pace.

  “Good boy, Lewis. Go on! Find her!” Adrenaline surged through Stacy, sharpening her already keen senses. Praise God, the trail was still warm so the chances of finding the child were very good, especially with a competent tracking dog like Lewis on the job.

  He was the calm, sensible one of the pair, the one whose head was always clear, whose canine judgment she trusted implicitly. Clark, on the other hand, was a clown in a dog suit. It was hard to believe they were half brothers.

  Which reminded her… Glancing over her shoulder, Stacy caught a glimpse of Graydon and the younger dog. They were lagging behind while Clark sniffed the base of an interesting tree. That figured. His faculties might be as good as Lewis’s but his instincts pertaining to a search were sorely lacking. Until he learned to prioritize, he was next to useless as a rescue dog, no matter how well he could find hidden items in the course of his training.

  And speaking of useless, she added, there was also the matter of Graydon Payne. She should never have assigned Clark to him. It would probably take her weeks to undo the damage he was doing to the poor dog’s training.

  She called back. “This way! Make him follow us.”

  “How do you expect me to do that?” Graydon yelled. “This dog has a mind of his own.”

  “Yours is supposed to be stronger,” she countered. “Show him who’s boss.”

  “He is, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Whistling, Stacy got the retriever’s attention and he headed for her at a dead run, dragging the surprised man along behind him in a stumbling, sliding charge.

  By the time Graydon and Clark arrived at the spot where Stacy had stood, she and Lewis were already underway again.

  “You could wait for us,” he shouted.

  “Not when there’s a child who needs me,” she called back over her shoulder.

  He jogged to catch up, his smooth-soled shoes slipping on the pine needle carpet as Clark pulled him along. Short of breath, he managed to gasp, “You really take this stuff seriously, don’t you?”

  Stacy’s jaw clenched. She was used to having people question her skills, especially since she was a fairly small woman, but coming from Graydon Payne the remark sounded even more negative than usual.

  “Search and rescue is my life,” she said flatly. “And I’m very good at my job.”

  When he answered, “I believe you,” sounding totally truthful, she was temporarily speechless.

  “If this had happened a month ago, before all the trees leafed out, we’d have a better chance of spotting her.” Stacy paused to catch her breath and check her topographical map. The sloping, densely forested and rocky terrain had slowed Lewis’s progress considerably and he seemed to have temporarily lost the child’s trail.

  Graydon was breathing hard, too. “We’ll still be able to find Missy, won’t we?”

  “I hope so. It’s not as cold today as it has been. That gives us a bigger window of opportunity.”

  “You don’t sound terribly concerned.”

  “Don’t I? Sorry.” She took a drink of water from her canteen. “The truth is, I care very much. I also know that an emotional approach to a case like this often leads to critical mistakes. That’s the last thing we want. If Lewis doesn’t find her soon, I’ll call in other handlers and add more dogs to the search party.”

  “Good.” Graydon eyed the canteen, held out his hand. “I could use a swallow of that.”

  “Where’s yours? I told you to get survival gear before we left camp.” For the first time, she noticed he wasn’t carrying a backpack.

  “You gave me so little time I didn’t have a chance to do more than grab this coat out of somebody’s truck,” he alibied, patting the front pockets of the bright-orange hunting jacket. “I’ve got a candy bar in here but that’s about all.”

  “Terrific. I knew I shouldn’t have let you come along.”

  Bestowing a slight, lopsided smile on his companion and trying to look suitably contrite, Graydon held out the candy bar. “Trade you half of this for a drink of water?”

  “I have my own food. Thanks, anyway.”

  “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  His smile grew. “You have changed.”

  Stacy looked up at him and nodded. “Mister, you have no idea.”

  Chapter Two

  Graydon slipped the candy back into his pocket. “Please?”

  “Is this your idea of begging? Sheesh!”

  “I’m not used to it. That’s the best I can do. Come on. Be a sport and give me a drink.” He reached toward the canteen, freezing in midmotion when Lewis growled. “Oh-oh. Maybe I should have offered the candy to the dog.”

  “Don’t do it. Chocolate can be toxic to dogs.” Stacy couldn’t help smiling as she explained, “Lewis is my official protector. When you got too close, he let you know how things stood, but I don’t think he’d go so far as to actually bite you.”

  “How comforting.”

  Relenting, she held out the canteen. “Here. Just don’t drink too much. We need to save some for Melissa when we find her.”

  Raising one dark brow, Graydon kept an eye on the defensiv
e animal at her feet, took a swallow and handed back the canteen. “Do you think we’re close?”

  “I can’t be sure. Lewis was acting confused when I stopped. He’s either lost the trail or it’s become complicated because the child doubled back.”

  Graydon cocked his head toward the far end of the taut leash he was still holding. The younger dog was busy sniffing dirt, sprigs of grass and nearby insects. “This one acted kind of funny by that dead tree at the bottom of the hill. Do you think he might have caught a whiff of Missy’s trail?”

  “Clark?” Stacy huffed in disgust. “I doubt it. He’s about as aware of what’s going on as these rocks we’re standing on.”

  “Then why bring him?”

  “It’s good training. If I don’t expose young dogs to real working conditions and the hardships of the trail, I won’t be sure I can rely on them when the time finally comes for them to function alone. Clark will learn a lot by watching Lewis. I hope.”

  “Lewis and Clark? Oh, I get it.” Graydon made a sarcastic sound deep in his throat. “Cute.”

  Stacy wasn’t about to let him antagonize her. “Look, Mr. Payne. I didn’t come out here to defend my training methods or my dogs. I’m here to find a lost child. Nothing else counts. So if you want to waste time arguing, I suggest you go back to camp and pick on somebody else.”

  Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair, pushing it back off his forehead. “I didn’t realize I was picking on you. I’m sorry if that’s the way it sounded. I guess I’m more worried about Missy than I thought.”

  Stacy was instantly penitent. “Of course you are. It’s perfectly natural. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry, too.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Okay. That’s decided.”

  “What is?”

  “That we’re both sorry excuses for sympathetic human beings. Now, tell me the truth. What are our chances of finding Missy?” He couldn’t bring himself to add, alive.

  Stacy heard the unspoken question in his tone. “I think they’re very good.” She laid her hand lightly on his arm to comfort him as she spoke. “Kids tend to live in the moment rather than plan ahead, like finding water to drink or a place to keep warm at night, the way an adult might. They mostly wander aimlessly at first, then hunker down to sleep when they run out of energy, which makes them doubly hard to find unless a rescuer has a dog with a good nose and strong instincts.”

  “A dog like Lewis.”

  “Yes.” Stacy reached down to give the animal a pat. She owed her own life to a dog that had led a search party to her when she’d been lost and nearly frozen to death. No matter how long she lived or how hard she worked, she knew she’d never be able to repay that debt. She also knew she’d never stop trying. It was her job. The career that God had arranged for her. At times like this, it was crucial to remember that the Lord was in charge. Of everything. Which might mean…

  Pensive, she looked up at Graydon. “Tell me again. Where was Clark sniffing when you thought he was acting funny?”

  “Down there. By the big, dead oak. Do you think…?”

  “Maybe. It’s worth a try.”

  She stopped him when he started to lead the way. “Wait. Let Lewis and me go first so we don’t muddy up the scent anymore than we already have.”

  Graydon nodded and pulled back. Restraining Clark, he watched Stacy make her way down the slope. There was quite a contrast between the no-nonsense persona she presented to the world and the empathetic part of her character, wasn’t there? She’d tried to keep her sensitive nature hidden but he’d sensed it from the moment he’d seen her again. The truth dwelt in her eyes, betrayed a tender-hearted spirit. Stacy Lucas cared. Deeply. And he admired her for it.

  Coming to his senses, Graydon berated himself for letting his attention wander. The only thing he should be concentrating on at a time like this was finding Missy…before it was too late. His stomach knotted. No way was he going to let anything happen to that darling little girl. She must be so scared, so alone.

  Graydon knew what it was like to be totally alone, even in a crowd. He’d had a whole lifetime to adjust to the feelings of emotional isolation he’d battled ever since he was a boy.

  Clark was so eager to join Lewis that he couldn’t stand still. He whined and lunged against the restraint of the leash, then began to run in circles around the man who was holding him back.

  Looking down the hill, Graydon saw Lewis and Stacy in the distance. The dog had taken off again, pulling his leash taut and making Stacy run to keep up. He must have struck the trail!

  Gathering the braided nylon lead in his hand, Graydon kept Clark on a short tether so he could extricate himself from the tangled loops the dog had made around the calves of his legs.

  “Okay, okay. I get the idea,” he grumbled. “Just a minute, stupid. You’re the one who got us all fouled up like this, not me.”

  As he bent to step out of the last confining coil of nylon, Clark lunged. The leash tightened. Graydon hit the ground with a thud, feet in the air!

  The enthusiastic dog immediately jumped atop his chest, licking his face with delight.

  “Stop that! Down!” Spitting dry, crumbled leaves and muttering under his breath, Graydon pushed the friendly pup away and scrambled to his feet. Thank goodness Stacy Lucas hadn’t been close enough to see him knocked down!

  Anxious, he peered down the hill. She and her dog were still in sight!

  “Okay, you dunderhead,” he told Clark. “Let’s get going before we lose your mommy.”

  The dog wagged his plume of a tail and looked up at the man as if he understood every word.

  Stacy glanced over her shoulder to make sure her so-called partner reached the bottom of the steep hill safely. Clark was casting left and right, sniffing the air, just the way a rescue dog was supposed to. Would wonders never cease! Maybe she’d been right to keep training him after all.

  Shouting, “Over here,” and waving her arm wildly so Graydon could see where she was going, she plunged into a thick stand of oak and cedar, following Lewis. The dog immediately began whining and scratching at a pile of dried leaves and twigs beneath the largest tree.

  “Good boy, Lewis! Good boy!” He began to dig more frantically. Brown refuse flew. Stacy got a glimpse of bright pink. The jacket! It had to be.

  “Oh, please Lord, let her be here,” she prayed softly. “And let her be all right.”

  Approaching, she tightened up the leash and ordered Lewis to sit. “Melissa? Is that you?”

  There was no answer.

  Stacy crouched down, reached out her hand, and brushed off the exposed arm of the jacket. “Melissa? It’s okay, honey. I’ve come to take you back.”

  The child bolted out from under the leaves and clambered away with a shriek. Startled, Stacy rocked back on her heels and nearly fell over backward.

  She was alive! Stacy’s breath left her in a whoosh of pure relief. She sank to her knees, her arms around Lewis, her prayers of thanks so heartfelt they were wordless. Tears blurred her vision.

  “It’s okay, Melissa,” she said, fighting to speak calmly. “We won’t hurt you. The dog is real friendly. He helped me find you. Isn’t that nice?”

  The tremulous reply came as a sobbed, “No!”

  That surprised Stacy. She’d had disoriented adults try to refuse a rescue but she’d never seen a child do it. They were usually so glad to be found they were no trouble at all.

  Melissa faced her, blue eyes wide and frightened, long, strawberry-blond hair matted with twigs, leaves and dirt. Tears left muddy streaks as they trickled down her cheeks. “I don’t wanna go back. Never ever.” Sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve, she started to inch away.

  “Wouldn’t you like to pet my dog?” As hoped, that offer stopped the child’s retreat. “He’s very nice. Aren’t you, Lewis? Would you like to shake hands with Missy?”

  The little girl’s tears ceased. “Wh-what?”

  “I said,
Lewis would like to shake hands with you.”

  “You called me Missy.”

  “Isn’t that right?” Stacy knew she could always grab the child and take her back forcibly but she didn’t want to traumatize her any more than she already was. The best thing to do would be to drag out their conversation long enough for Graydon to arrive. Then the poor, scared little girl wouldn’t have to trust a stranger.

  “I like people to call me Missy,” she said softly.

  “Then that’s what I’ll do,” Stacy vowed. She held out her hand. “Friends?”

  Before she could answer, Clark and Graydon broke through the thick stand of trees at a run, startling everyone. The instant he spotted the child he let go of the leash and opened his arms. “Missy!”

  Squealing, she ran into his embrace. “Uncle Gray!”

  He scooped her up and spun around in circles. Pure joy filled the clearing. The sight of the usually formal man hugging the dirty waif brought fresh tears to Stacy’s eyes. This was what her job was all about.

  He spoke lovingly, without reproach. “Where have you been, Missy? I was worried sick! We all were.”

  “I don’t wanna go back to Mark’s.” She buried her face in his collar.

  “You don’t want me for an uncle?” he asked.

  “Course I do.”

  “Well, I can’t be your uncle if you aren’t Mark’s daughter.”

  She raised her head and studied him. “You can’t?”

  “Nope. That’s how it has to be.”

  Stacy could tell from Missy’s expression that she was thinking hard. There was no telling what kind of temporary living conditions the motherless child had been subjected to. It was natural for her to be afraid. Of everything.

  Approaching them slowly, Stacy patted Missy on the back and spoke soothing words while Gray continued to hold her.

  He gazed down at Stacy over the child’s shoulder and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome.” Stacy stepped away and reached for the handheld, two-way radio she carried. “I’m going to call in the good news and get everybody headed back into camp.” She glanced at the sky. “We’d better get a move on, too. It’ll be dark soon.”