Then, “Oh no.”
She looked over at him. “What?”
He winced, shook his head. “I left his tug ball on the lake. What with the moose and—shoot.”
“You mean this ball?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the toy. “I grabbed it when I closed up the cabin. Sorry. I forgot to mention it.”
He took the ball. “I could kiss you.”
Orlando eyed the ball, his tail wagging. Even whined.
“Okay, buddy. Yep.” Jericho glanced over at Harley, then back to Orlando. Then he pulled out the mitten. Orlando sniffed it. “Find,” he commanded.
Orlando’s entire body changed from play to duty. He put hisnose up and circled the area, then took off into the snow, moving into the clean white field.
Sully and Malachi headed east along the ditch, Orion and Jenni struck out toward the cabin.
In the distance, the thrum of Air One’s rotors beat the air.
Jericho took off after Orlando, the bell jingling.
Harley moved behind him, maybe yes, hurting just a little. But she wasn’t staying behind, thank you.
The dog worked in widening circles, nose down, then up, testing the air. Harley kept her eyes moving, searching for anything out of place in the pristine snow, any sign of passage.
Orlando ran across the field, then into the forest, some two hundred yards from the road.
“Don’t lose him!” she shouted ahead to Jericho. He’d looked back at her a couple times as he ran.
Where was the former track star in her?C’mon,Harley!
Jericho followed his dog into the trees, Harley not far behind. Thankfully, the man and dog had broken the trail through snow that reached her knees in places. The forest was different here than near town—older, deeper. More dangerous. The kind of place that kept its secrets.
A flash of something red caught her eye. She ran over to it, picked it up.
A hat, homemade. She confirmed it by turning it inside out. There, Daniel’s name was stitched inside the band.
“Jericho!”
Ahead, he stopped, turned. “What?”
She held up the hat, and he waited until she caught up. “It’s Daniel’s hat.”
He took it, searched inside. Made a face.
“I don’t understand,” Jericho said. “Orlando should alert on this. Unless...”
“Unless what?”
“Unless it’s not where they went.” He studied the ground, the trees. The wind had sculpted the snow into waves, obscuring any tracks from yesterday. “This could have blown here. The wind last night...” He looked after his dog. “Maybe he’s confused.”
Orlando barked—sharp, insistent—from twenty yards ahead. The sound echoed off the trees, startling a raven that took flight in a burst of black wings against the white sky.
He didn’t seem confused.
Orlando circled again, then kept moving, heading deeper into the trees.
“Trust him,” Harley said, her breath clouding in the frigid air. “He knows what he’s doing.”