Page 21 of Buck (Diver Downeast #2)

Buck couldn’t have been happier to see his brothers.

He’d located the suitcase fairly easily—it was gigantic, after all—and he’d managed to drag it to the surface. Once. But its enormous size had quickly become a problem.

It was fucking water-logged, and heavy.

It had begun dragging him back down when the load inside shifted; like there was someone or something moving around in there.

Buck had tried to give some reassurances for the few seconds his head was out of the water.

“I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay,” he soothed, speaking the calming words gently, around his regulator.

His strength, however, had seriously flagged after that. Which probably had to do with the cold seeping into Buck’s exposed skin. It had sucked, because he’d had to go back underwater with his cargo to take the strain off.

He’d almost made it to the surface a second time, but with a much greater degree of difficulty. He was stressing against the weight of the load while understanding that if he didn’t get help soon, things weren’t going to go well.

He’d grunted with renewed determination, and for a few moments he’d thought he was okay, but it hadn’t taken long before he knew he’d have to lose progress once more before he tried again.

His only remaining option would be to tow the unwieldy object to shore beneath the surface, using the buoyancy of the water to help him mitigate its weight. But…

Buck knew that if he did that, the noise-maker inside might not make it. The air pocket within the suitcase had to be diminishing. He could see bubbles leaking out even now.

That wasn’t good.

“Buck,” Mason’s voice surprised him, blasting through the water.

Mase had came upon Buck so quickly, that Buck hadn’t even noticed. His brother had always been a strong and stealthy swimmer, and Buck had never been happier to see him.

“What can I do to help?” Mason immediately questioned via the sign language they’d used as youngsters.

That was…different. His older brother was leaving the decision-making to him?

Mason was normally the one taking charge, being the local SWAT team leader as well as the captain at the OPD.

It meant a lot that Mase was trusting him with this.

Buck signaled back. Help. Too heavy .

He started losing strength, but this time his brother’s capable hands came to his aid, and between them, they regained the surface.

“Thanks, man,” Buck gasped as he spit out his regulator and filled his lungs. “Can you…get underneath it?”

Mason already had his mouthpiece back in before Buck finished his sentence. He gave Buck a thumbs up and dove down, putting himself in the perfect position underneath the bulky encumbrance.

Immediately, all Buck’s physical distress was alleviated.

“What have you got?” Spencer’s voice rang out from a few feet away.

Buck must be more sluggish with cold than he thought. He hadn’t seen brother number two coming, either.

“I’m not sure what it is,” Buck answered. “But there’s something moving around inside, and it’s heavy as hell. Mason’s underneath, holding it up.”

Spencer positioned himself opposite to Buck and took the other side of the case, which allowed Mason to resurface where he also took a corner.

“We’ve got this now,” Mason exulted, jettisoning his mouthpiece.

“Damn right we do,” Buck agreed with a relieved grin.

That’s when they all heard the cheering from the riverbank.

“What the…?” Spencer snorted.

Mason grimaced. “I guess they think there’s a happy ending here, but they shouldn’t be celebrating. Not yet. Not until we find out who or what is inside, and whether or not they’re alright.”

“Agreed. Let’s get this thing to shore,” Buck nodded.

The three, having worked together so many times as kids, easily coordinated what they had to do, and within minutes they were only knee deep in the river. Bobbie, the chief, and many others were lending hands to help tow the baggage the last few feet onto dry land.

Once the case was settled on the bank, and fully out of harm’s way, the chief took over.

“Everyone stand back,” he ordered the encroaching crowd.

The officers on duty heard the edict loud and clear, immediately herding everyone not directly involved, a few yards away.

Buck obliged by also stepping back just a few feet, although he was itching to be the one to open the case. He understood, though, that whatever this turned out to be, it was—foremost in the chief’s book—crime-scene evidence. Far be it from him to muddy the OPD’s waters.

More scratching noises came from within the case as the chief squatted, grunted, and worked the zipper.

Buck kept his eyes glued to the valise.

“You did good.” Bobbie surprised Buck, coming up from behind him to take hold of his hand for a squeeze.

He chuckled. “I?—”

She cut him off, her mouth dropping open. “You’re absolutely freezing.”

“Phht. It’s nothing,” Buck told her, but… Dammit . His dismissal wasn’t going to hold water because almost the second after the words were out of his mouth, he was overwhelmed by a violent shiver.

Okay . So he maybe he was a little cold.

“Blanket?” Bobbie barked, alerting those onlookers behind her that they needed to step up.

An older lady hustled over first, clutching a multi-colored quilt in her hands; one that had clearly seen better days.

“Here you go. You can keep this. It was my grandmother’s, and I know it’s full of moth holes, but it’s still plenty warm.

I’ve been hanging onto it just in case…” Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed.

“This is actually absolutely perfect. Gram would be so proud to know her handiwork was helping someone who performed such a dramatic rescue.”

Buck bit back a sigh. He wasn’t sure about his efforts being dramatic, and he’d only be sure of a rescue once the chief got the case open and they could assess the condition of whatever was inside.

Get it open, already , he wanted to shout.

The zipper got stuck a few times, but after a few good tugs the chief was finally able to fully unfasten the topmost flap. He lifted it back, and…

What the hell?

Dogs.

No. Not dogs. Puppies. Tiny little puppies.

There were four of them nestled inside, and all but one were wriggling their miniature butts to beat the band, clearly happy to be out of their dark, wet prison.

Buck dropped to his knees, his chill immediately forgotten as he looked them over.

The chief was already lifting two of the small creatures out, handing them over to Spencer and Mason, respectively. Ildavorg reached for a third wagger, while Bucks’ hands went to the small, still mound at the bottom of the pile.

It was a tiny white bundle; its matted fluff soaked. As Buck lifted the still body out, his heart fell. The pup wasn’t breathing.

Sending up a quick prayer to whoever might be listening, Buck gave the precious baby a few gentle shakes to see if he could stimulate the motionless pint into responding. When that didn’t work, he started to put the diminutive canine back down to?—

“I’ve got CPR for puppies pulled up,” Bobbie told him fervently, looking at her phone.

That’s just what he’d wanted. Bobbie was a mind reader. He knew people CPR, but understood it had to be different for a tiny little creature.

“Go,” Buck responded with alacrity.

“Place the puppy on its right side.”

Buck swiftly laid the tiny body down as she instructed.

“Okay,” she continued. “Put your thumb and forefinger on his chest at the widest part just behind the front legs.”

“Got it.”

“Give thirty compressions, two per second, then follow that with two rescue breaths, positioning your mouth over his entire snout.”

Not difficult to do when the dogs head was so small.

“Will do,” Buck answered earnestly, beginning compressions.

Damn. The puppy was so delicate. Buck hoped he wasn’t hurting him, but what choice did he have?

“We’re supposed to keep him warm, too,” Bobbie announced loudly, and immediately several people with towels stepped forward.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Bobbie took what was offered and carefully draped the terrycloth in such a way as to cover parts of the puppy without impeding Buck’s emergency procedures.

“Come on, little one. Come on,” Buck muttered under his breath finishing up the first set of compressions, then bending down for rescue-breaths.

One. Inhale. Two .

Back to compressions.

Had that been a shiver under all that wet fur? Maybe, or maybe it was just Buck’s wishful thinking. Still, he felt the need to keep talking. “I know how you feel little buddy. I’m cold, and I wasn’t in for nearly as long as you were.”

“Thank God there was an air-pocket in that suitcase,” Mason responded, cuddling the tiniest dachshund that Buck had ever seen against his chest. “This little guy seems okay.” The tiny puppy squirmed and looked like he wanted to get down and explore.

“This one seems perky, too,” Spencer laughed, doing his best to hold onto a lively black bundle that might or might not be a black lab.

Buck glanced toward them again after giving his second rescue breaths, and saw a wobbly, all-limbs, red puppy nudging up against Bobbie’s leg after the chief had placed the whelp down gently on a towel, where it had refused to stay put.

Bobbie’s eyes grew wide. “Wow. I… I think she likes me.”

There was a look of such pure rapture on Bobbie’s face as she bent to pat the little creature, it told Buck that whether Bobbie knew it yet or not, the sweet girl-pup had probably just found her forever home.

Buck, relieved at least that three out of the four littles would be fine, turned all his concentration back to his small, white friend.

“You can do this. You can,” he assured the puppy, as he continued his ministrations.

At compression number thirteen, he sucked in a breath. A full shudder had just wracked the wee body.

“Yes!”

Buck turned the puppies small head a bit to the side, and…

Seawater emerged from the little one’s mouth.

The pup then trembled, opened his eyes, and… He sneezed louder than Buck could possibly have imagined.

Buck and everyone else laughed hard, relieved when the tiny thing stood up on shaky legs and gave a full body shake, sending water droplets everywhere.

Chief Ildavorg stood above them with arms crossed, looking over the scene with a smile of satisfaction on his face.

“This was a good afternoon’s work, boys.

” He turned to his two officers who’d been standing by.

“I want a full investigation here. See if there’s anything in the suitcase that will tell us where it’s from, and take statements from everyone here to see if we can track down the culprit.

Check business cameras on either side of the bridge and see if surveillance picked anything up. ”

The pair of officers immediately took themselves off to follow orders as the chief turned to address Buck. “I’ve called a local vet, and she’s going to stay open to check these waifs out.”

“Can I…take them?” Bobbie asked.

Yup. She’d just picked up the gangly Irish Setter—if Buck were any judge of breed, that’s what it was—and he could tell there’d be no separating the two.

Buck bent and hefted up the little, curly-haired handful who, at this point, had come back to life with vigor. Buck shared a piece of his quilt with him.

The dog immediately snuggled in, then…nipped Buck on the chin.

Buck laughed.

Okay. Maybe there were two refugees who had found new homes today.

“I don’t see why not,” the chief answered after watching the pair with a gleam in his eyes. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you and our three Sothard heroes all accompany them?” He looked at Buck, then rattled off the address of the vet.

“No argument here,” Buck assured him.

Mason responded in the affirmative as well. “Okay.”

“Sure,” Spencer also readily agreed.

Hah. Neither of his brothers were ready to let go of their rescues, either. If Buck were a betting man, he’d say that their wives would be getting calls soon, to see if some new, four-legged friends would be allowed to join their households.

There was nothing but love, here, all the way around.

“So, we’re in agreement,” Buck said, his mouth wide with a smile that just wouldn’t quit. He received a lick to his chest this time. “Everybody head for the van.”

“Uh, bro?” Mason’s eyebrow quirked upward as he regarded Buck.

“Yeah, Mase?”

“We have our wetsuits on, but don’t you think some clothes might be in order for you?”