Page 15 of The Lovely and the Lost

“I’m a Wade,” Mac replied, unruffled. “There are a lot of people hereabouts who don’t care too much for my kind.”

I held my hand out to Mac’s dog, the way he’d held his out to mine. Saskia allowed the massive animal to delicately sniff my fingers before flashing her teeth. The mutt returned to Mac’s side.

Abruptly, Mac stood and turned toward the brush. His dog reoriented her body to match his, like they were a single unit, and I followed suit. The wind lifted my hair. The smell of the forest invaded my nostrils, damp and fresh andalive. In the distance, a K9 barked three times.

One of the dogs found something.Bittersweet hope and heavy dread battled it out in the pit of my stomach. Muscles clenching, I thought of the faded blanket in the plastic bag. I pictured a little girl in a bright red windbreaker. I let myself imagine a happy ending.

What I got was a phone call from Cady, informing me that Bella’s scent had intensified, then dead-ended—in the river.

The rangers’ probable search area for Bella had been calculated assuming the little girl had been traveling on foot. The river changed things. When we found Bella—if we found her—we’d find her downstream.

We might not be looking for a little girl. We might be looking for a body.No one said those words, but Mac quietly joined the search, his dog running the riverbank, wading in and out as he followed her with surprising swiftness for a man his size.

I pray to God that I’m not the one to find her. Mac’s prayer echoed in my mind as I was given my own assignment. Saskia and I would take the west side of the river. Cady and Pad would take the east. If Bella had made it out of the water—if she’d survived—she could have ended up on either shore, and that meant the forest was fair game on both sides of the water.

Now that I had something to focus on, the tightness in my stomach slowly unwound. Saskia was a flash of white in the wilderness, running from the riverbank to the tree line, weaving in and out, over rocky ground. She looped back to me often enough to make sure that I was keeping up.

Nightfall drew closer.

Cady would never let me search on my own past dark—not in unfamiliar territory. Not in a 750,000-acre wilderness that could swallow an adult nearly as easily as it had devoured Bella.

As the countdown clock ticked down, Saskia and I pressed on. I made sure she stopped for water breaks and did my best to stay hydrated as well. Thirst was an old acquaintance—dry lips, head pounding, each breath hot in my throat.Pushing back against the memories, I let myself crouch down on the forest floor. Cady had said that Sierra Glades had some of the tallest trees on the continent, but this part of the forest wasn’t filled with those giants. As I looked up into the branches, the dying sun caught the leaves just so. My fingers sank into the dirt, and I closed my eyes.

Bella was nine years old. She’d been missing for almost forty-eight hours. Her trail had dead-ended in the river. In all likelihood, she was dead. But that was what Cady had been told years ago when the authorities had asked her to help search for me.

I opened my eyes and took out my radio. In an area where cell phone reception was spotty—sometimes nonexistent—a two-way radio could be a lifesaver. For a moment, my dirt-smudged fingers hovered over the power button. If I turned it off, I wouldn’t hear them telling me to report back to base camp.

If I turned it off, the sun’s descent didn’t have to mean I’d failed.

Saskia ran toward me. She didn’t bark, didn’t indicate that she’d found any hint that Bella had made her way out of that river and into the woods. I pictured the current in my mind, the water, whitecapped against the rocks. I couldfeelthe sharp bite of uneven stones tearing into tender flesh.

Bruises and blood. Lying on my back. Can’t…can’t…

Saskia bumped her nose against my hand. I stood. “Good girl,” I told her, keeping the energy in my voice high. “Good girl, Sass.”

Bad things happen to bad little girls,a voice whispered from the dark place.

I forced myself to breathe.Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight. Ninety-seven.

Almost as abruptly as the memory had come on, it was gone. I let my fingers curl into fists to keep my hands from shaking and led Saskia away from the river. I steered her toward the mountain, pushing the boundaries of the search area I had been assigned. Men like the park rangers looked at a picture of a lost little girl and saw an innocent, a victim, someone helpless and fragile and small.

They had no idea what a child was capable of—really capable of—when the civilized world melted away and nothing but instinct remained.

On some level, I was aware of a call coming in on my radio. On some level, I was aware that darkness was falling, that I’d gone too far. But I just kept pushing.Just a little farther up the mountain. Just a little farther off the path.

I couldn’t even see Saskia. She had to be getting tired, but like me, she wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t—

“Kira.” Cady’s voice on the radio cut through the laser focus that had driven me up this path. “Are you there?”

I hesitated, just for a second, before lifting the radio to my mouth. “I’m here,” I said. “Saskia and I haven’t found anything, but we’re still looking.”

Still climbing, still running, still going.

“Give me your coordinates, and I’ll have someone meet you.” Cady had to have known that every fiber of my being would fight coming in, but she’d painstakingly taught me that there was no room forfightorflightin SAR. Instincts were good—necessary, even—but the human partner had to work within certain parameters, by certain rules.

I could give Cady my coordinates now, or I could forget about continuing the search tomorrow.

“Coordinates,” I said, my throat dry.