Page 32 of Scent of Evil (Sullivan K9 Search and Rescue #7)

Chapter One

B ailey Adams cast an apprehensive glance over her shoulder as she approached her SUV.

The man in the black coat and black cowboy hat still lingered behind her.

He hadn’t gotten too close, but this was the fourth time she’d seen him in the past two days.

Feeling grim, she was forced to admit he was following her.

Why, she had no idea, but she suspected it was related to her husband’s death less than a year ago.

Clark had died in a terrible car crash. One she had not believed was an accident.

For weeks, she’d hounded the Cody police to investigate further, but to no avail.

They’d repeatedly explained that without evidence of foul play, there was no reason to declare his death suspicious.

Over time, she’d convinced herself they were right.

Now she wasn’t sure. She wrenched open her driver’s side door and slid—or rather wedged her pregnant belly behind the wheel.

She tossed her purse into the seat beside her.

After clicking her seat belt into place, she started the engine and put the car in reverse to back out of the parking spot.

The sooner she got away from Black Hat, as she secretly called him, the better.

Bailey gripped the steering wheel tightly as she drove through the recently plowed streets of Cody.

They’d gotten an early November snowfall last night, but only about three inches.

Could have been worse, as winter was fast approaching.

She was grateful for her four-wheel drive to get her to and from work.

The small house she’d moved into after her husband Clark’s death was on the other side of town from the city hall where she worked as a receptionist. She loved her cottage, but the fact that it was located on the northeast side of the city, not far from the Shoshone River, meant the plows took longer to get there.

When she’d first moved in nine months ago, she’d loved the isolation of the place. Now with Black Hat following her around town, she wished she’d chosen something more centrally located. A house with close neighbors rather than beautiful riverside views.

A quick glance at her rearview mirror revealed a black truck keeping pace behind her. The color and model of the vehicle didn’t mean much, as most people in the area drove trucks or SUVs. And black was hardly an unusual color.

Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if Black Hat was behind the wheel of the black truck.

Her thumb hovered over the phone button on her steering wheel.

Her older brother Miles was in Alaska working the pipeline but had instructed her to call his best friend Trevor Sullivan if she needed anything.

Calling the police seemed like overkill.

Not only had they thought her paranoid about Clark’s so-called accidental death, but Black Hat also hadn’t committed any crimes against her.

Calling his behavior stalking was a stretch.

Maybe it was time to play the best-friend card.

The black truck stayed resolutely behind her. Not getting closer, but not taking any turns either. Did he intend to follow her the whole way home? She swallowed hard and pressed the green phone button. She said, “Call Trevor Sullivan.”

After a beat, she heard ringing on the other end of the connection. When a husky male voice answered, she let out a silent sigh of relief. “Bailey? Is everything all right?”

“Sorry to bother you, but I think a guy wearing a black hat has been following me.” Saying the words out loud made her situation feel all too real.

“I mean, it could be my imagination, but I’ve seen him four times in two days.

He wears the same black coat and black cowboy hat.

He’s never approached me or anything, but he’s creeping me out.

And now there’s a black truck behind me. ”

“Where are you now?” Trevor asked.

“Heading home.” Again, saying the words made her realize that it was a stupid move. The last thing she needed was to be in her small cottage alone with this guy possibly following her.

“Don’t go home, turn around and head south toward the ranch.” There was a note of steel in Trevor’s tone. “I’m jumping in my car now and will meet you halfway.”

“Okay.” She subtly slowed her speed without hitting her brake. Then she quickly executed a right-hand turn, hoping to catch the driver behind her off guard. The main thoroughfare through town was just a couple of blocks away. She hit the gas, anxious to reach it.

Looking in her rearview mirror, she realized the black truck was no longer behind her. She blew out a sigh, half tempted to turn around to go home. Her feet ached, and she was hungry for dinner.

Yet she had seen the same man four times.

“Trevor? I, uh, may have overreacted.” Pregnancy hormones were wreaking havoc with her emotions. “I thought there was a black truck behind me, but now it’s gone.”

“That’s okay, I still would like you to avoid going home.” Trevor’s calm voice soothed her frayed nerves. “I don’t want to take the risk the guy you saw earlier will be there waiting for you. Do you remember where the ranch is located?”

“I think so.” She’d only been to the Sullivan K9 Search and Rescue Ranch once, and that was before she was married, but knew the property wasn’t too far off Highway 120. “I’m sorry to be a pain. I’m sure you have better things to do than to meet me.”

“Nothing at all,” Trevor assured her. “I’ve been meaning to reach out to you anyway. Miles made me promise.”

She grimaced, knowing Trevor would honor his friendship with her brother, even if it meant babysitting a hysterical pregnant woman. “I’m fine. Just a little freaked out over Black Hat.”

“Black Hat?” Trevor echoed. “Is that your name for him?”

“Yes.” She relaxed now that the black truck was no longer behind her. “Maybe he’s a friend of Clark’s.”

“Maybe.” Trevor’s tone was noncommittal.

She wished she’d moved out of the house she’d shared with Clark sooner, but she hadn’t. After he’d died sliding off the highway and down a ravine, she’d felt guilty for being relieved she wouldn’t have to divorce him. What kind of wife thought about things like that?

A week after his death, she discovered she was pregnant and felt guilty over her unkind thoughts all over again. For all his faults, she knew Clark would have been thrilled about the baby. A daughter. She’d learned from an ultrasound she was having a baby girl.

She shoved those memories away with an effort. This wasn’t the time to ruminate over her past mistakes. “I guess I can let you go,” she said, breaking the silence. “I feel foolish for bothering you.”

“I told you, it’s fine. I’m looking forward to meeting up with you. We’ll grab dinner. Where are you now?” Trevor asked.

“Um, I’m heading south on Highway 120.” She forced herself to sound cheerful. “It’s getting dark, but thankfully, there isn’t much traffic on this road.”

“Yeah, that’s good. I’m on the highway too.” If Trevor was annoyed by the idle chitchat, he wasn’t letting on. “We’ll probably meet in about fifteen minutes or so.”

“Great. I should let you go.”

“I don’t mind staying connected,” Trevor said. “Tell me how you’re feeling? Any problems with your pregnancy?”

“Nope, everything is going well. Doctor says I’m healthy as a horse. I’ll see you soon, Trevor.” Her thumb hovered over the end-call button when she noticed a dark vehicle coming up fast behind her. “Wait! I think he’s behind me!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! A big black truck—” She couldn’t finish as the vehicle behind her abruptly rammed into her.

Her head jerked, her teeth clattering together from the force of the collision.

Her thumb must have ended the connection because she couldn’t hear Trevor.

Bailey lost her grip on the steering wheel, and the SUV swerved hard to the right.

Her purse flew to the floor. She caught a glimpse of a steep ravine and desperately tried to grab a hold of the wheel, wrenching it with all her strength to the left to avoid the edge.

The truck behind her rammed into her again. Even though she’d half expected it, the impact jarred her enough that she couldn’t keep the SUV on the road. With a silent cry, she watched in horror as her car tumbled over the edge of the ravine, crashing into the bottom of the valley below.

Her last conscious thought was that she’d been right all along. Her husband’s death was no accident. It had happened just like this.

And whatever Clark had gotten himself into, she and her baby were in danger now too.

* * *

“Bailey? Bailey, are you okay?” Trevor planted his foot on the gas, increasing his speed. Bailey’s last comment about the big black truck worried him.

Waves of guilt washed over him. He shouldn’t have asked her to meet up with him on what was mostly a deserted stretch of highway. He should have told her to drive directly to the police station and to wait for him there.

His lapse in judgment may have gotten her in trouble.

“Bailey? Are you there?” When there was still no response, he belatedly realized she’d ended the call. He tried her again. This time, her phone rang multiple times until her voice mail kicked in. He ended the call without bothering to leave a message.

Was Bailey hurt? Or worse? And what about the baby?

Feeling desperate, Trevor pushed his speed even more on the curvy road. He needed to catch up with her.

Archie, his red fox English lab, was in the back crate area. The K9 had his head up and his ears pricked forward, no doubt keying in on the underlying panic in his voice. He spoke to the dog out of habit. “We’re going to find her, and she’s going to be okay. Right, boy?”

Archie’s tail thumped against the bottom of the crate.

Talking to Archie didn’t quell the fear churning in his gut. He peered through the dusk, trying to see her silver SUV. But the road before him was empty.