Page 1 of Scent of Death (Sullivan K9 Search and Rescue #5)

The sound of a dead tree branch snapping had her whirling around to scan the foliage behind her. Probably a large elk or a bear moving through the woods. She lightly touched the can of bear spray on her utility belt to reassure herself she was ready if needed.

She carried a firearm, too, and her oldest brother, Chase, had made sure every one of the Sullivan siblings could shoot accurately. But a small handgun may not be enough to take down a bear, unless she was able to hit the animal in the heart or brain.

Not that she wanted to kill a bear or any other wild animal for that matter. She understood and accepted the hunting her brothers did, and she didn’t even mind eating venison and elk meat, but the actual hunting part wasn’t something she personally enjoyed.

Yet she couldn’t just give up either. After Jessica had found the tail fin of a plane, she and her siblings had renewed their search efforts. Especially since the piece of plane debris had been found a good fifty miles from their original search zone.

Why her parents’ small plane had gone down was a mystery. Their youngest sibling, Kendra, kept insisting the crash was no accident. And while Alexis may secretly agree, the problem was that there was no motive to kill her parents.

Well, there was the fact that her parents had been worth millions of dollars, something she and the other siblings hadn’t known until after they’d been declared dead.

The money was in a trust that covered the expenses of the ranch in addition to a modest salary for each of the siblings.

Maya and Chase, the two eldest siblings, held family meetings every six months to go over the finances.

Somehow, the trust continued to grow despite the difficult economic times.

The money would have been a motive to kill her parents if not for the fact that her parents had everything buttoned up in the trust, and the only heirs were the nine kids.

As far as she knew, nobody had tried to get the money from them.

In fact, the Sullivan family had managed to keep the extent of their wealth a secret.

Turning the former dude ranch into a search and rescue operation had been Maya’s idea.

Chase had eagerly agreed. They performed SAR services across the state of Wyoming, even venturing into Idaho, Montana, and Colorado.

And the only payment they accepted were bags of dog food.

They had nine K9s—well, ten now with the new puppy, Bear—to feed.

One bag of dog food was basically a drop in the bucket of what they went through each week.

She gave Maya and Chase a lot of credit for holding the family together after her parents went missing. Their Christian faith had gotten them through the dark days, and now many of her siblings were getting married and starting families.

Not that she was planning to head down that path. Especially not after two of her previous boyfriends had cheated on her.

Denali disappeared from her line of sight. Alexis quickened her pace, not wanting the K9 to get too far ahead. As she crested a ridge, she relaxed when she saw Denali sniffing near a bush.

“Break time.” K9s needed frequent breaks while working. They expended a lot of energy sniffing their surroundings, and with the hot July sun overhead, she needed to make sure her dog didn’t become dehydrated.

Denali lifted her head and bounded toward her.

Alexis glanced around, wishing she could get rid of the niggling warning sensation along the back of her neck.

Even if someone was out there, she told herself there was nothing to worry about.

Stumbling across a fisherman or small game hunter wouldn’t be a threat.

Alexis took a moment to find a shady spot near some trees and shrugged out of her pack.

In truth, she needed the break more than Denali. Taking her water bottle from the pack, she filled a collapsible bowl for her K9. As Denali lapped at the water, Alexis drained what was left in the bottle.

“Good girl,” she praised as Denali stretched out on the ground. “You’re doing a great job.”

Denali’s brown eyes gazed into hers. She leaned forward to hug the dog, then glanced at her watch. They’d been working for an hour, taking a meandering path, and she needed to make sure they could get back to the two-track road where she’d left her SUV.

“We’ll go for one more hour, then turn back, okay?” She stroked Denali’s soft fur. “I know you won’t mind a long nap on our way back to the ranch.”

Denali thumped her tail in agreement.

After fifteen minutes, she rose to her feet and offered Denali a little more water.

Keeping a dog’s mucous membranes moist was key during search and rescue missions.

The moisture helped enhance the scent particles, and for cadaver dogs, that was even more important, as the scents were often deeply buried in the ground.

“Search napoo!” She threw her arm wide. “Search!”

Denali eagerly went back to work, trotting along some invisible path that only her dog could smell. Alexis shouldered into her pack and quickly followed. She glanced over her shoulder frequently, but she didn’t see anything alarming.

And Denali didn’t growl or indicate she noticed anything either.

Alexis was so preoccupied she didn’t immediately notice when Denali made an abrupt turn, heading toward a meadow to the east. She nearly tripped over a rock to keep up.

Denali had her nose down and was moving faster now, an indication she may have found something. Remains from one of her parents? Alexis was afraid to hope.

“Search napoo,” she said encouragingly. But she needn’t have worried. Denali headed to an area, sniffed for long minutes, then sat and let out a sharp bark.

Her alert! Alexis couldn’t see much but quickened her pace all the same. Then she abruptly slowed when she realized what Denali had found.

A hand. A badly bloated human hand that had clearly been nibbled on by the local wildlife.

Her stomach twisted painfully as she approached. “Here, Denali,” she called. Then she pulled the pink piggy from her backpack. “Good girl! Good girl, Denali!” She tossed the piggy into the air, then cautiously approached the gruesome hand.

Definitely female , she thought, as she crouched near the spot where it was poking out from the earth. Denali hadn’t found her parents’ remains as she’d hoped. Based on her experience in other disaster missions, she knew this hand hadn’t been there for long. A few days or a week at the most.

She didn’t want to disturb what might have been a crime scene. Yet she needed to understand if the hand had been left there by some animal. Or if it was connected to the rest of the body.

Edging as close as she dared, she stared at the bloated hand. That’s when she noticed there was a tattoo of flowers encircling the wrist. That reinforced her theory that the hand belonged to a woman.

She took a step back, surveying the area.

This area of the earth appeared to have been recently disturbed, but that wasn’t conclusive evidence that the rest of the body was buried there.

For all she knew, the body had been lying on top of the soil and got dragged away from the area, leaving just the hand behind.

With shaky fingers, she pulled her cell phone from her pack.

No service.

Stifling a sigh, she rummaged for the large, bulky satellite phone Chase had insisted they carry.

There had been several cases over the past few months where one of the siblings had been stuck in the mountains without service.

The sat phones were nice, but heavy. Within minutes, she heard ringing on the other end of the line.

“Sheriff’s office, how may I direct your call?” a female voice asked.

“This is Alexis Sullivan, and my dog has found human remains near—” A crack of gunfire had her stopping abruptly, ducking, and running toward her K9.

She grabbed Denali’s vest and pulled the dog into the shelter of the woods. She crouched behind some trees, her heart pounding as she realized she shouldn’t have ignored the niggle of warning that had plagued her for the past mile.

The snapping branch had been from a human, not an animal as she’d assumed.

“Hello? Are you there?” the female voice asked from the sat phone.

“I’m here, but someone fired a gun at me. I need police backup!” Even as she said the words, she understood the fruitlessness of her request. Help was hours away at best.

She and Denali were on their own. With a gunman who may be the same person who’d buried the dead body.

“What was that?” FBI Agent Griffin Flannery touched the earpiece attached to his radio. He was just leaving Greybull, Wyoming, but had pulled off to the side of the road when the call came through. “Did I hear Alexis Sullivan call about finding human remains?”

“Yes, and it sounds like someone is firing a gun at her,” the dispatcher replied. The radio dispatch channel was open to various law enforcement officials, including the game warden, local police, and those in federal law enforcement.

Like him. His gut churned at the thought of Alexis and Denali being in danger. “What’s their location?”

“One moment, please.” The dispatcher was silent for a moment, then said, “I can send the coordinates, Griff. She’s calling from the southeast portion of the Bighorn Mountains.”

“Please do.” He quickly executed a U-turn, grateful that he wasn’t at his office in Cheyenne when this call came through. “I’m on my way. Are you sending deputies as well?”

“Yes, Deputy Paul Holland has been dispatched to her location,” the dispatcher confirmed. “But he’s farther out than you are.”

“Roger that.” Griff didn’t have red lights and sirens built into his personal vehicle, but he planted his foot on the gas, going as fast as he dared on the curvy, winding road. “If Alexis calls again, please patch her through to me.”