Missing in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law #5)(8)

“Who’s in charge here?” he asked the handler.

“Special Agent Ross,” the handler replied and pointed to a man talking on the phone about twenty feet away.

“Thanks,” Colt said.

Ross finished his phone call right as Colt stepped in front of him. His rigid posture screamed former military and he eyed Colt up and down, as if mentally assessing his threat level.

“I’m Colt Bertrand, the local sheriff.” He extended his hand.

“Special Agent Thomas Ross,” Ross said and gave his hand a firm shake.

“I’m also a personal friend of Zach and Raissa.”

Ross nodded. “You been to the hospital?”

“Just came from there.”

“How’s Zach doing?”

“It’s touch and go.”

Ross’s jaw flexed. “I’ve never met the agents in person, but their reputation at the bureau precedes them. Rest assured that the bureau is putting every asset available into this investigation. We won’t settle for anything short of finding Agent Bordeaux alive and well.”

The man’s words and demeanor didn’t leave any doubt that he fully intended to live up to what he said. Colt had worked with this sort of man before. He’d pursue an angle to the ends of the earth to get an answer and would allow nothing to come between him and a solution. But Colt also knew that no one short of God could promise to return Raissa alive and be 100 percent certain they could live up to those words.

“I’m aware I don’t have any jurisdiction here,” Colt said, “and I don’t want to get in the way, but I know these swamps as well as any other man in Mudbug. I can’t track like a hound, but if they indicate a direction, I can tell you what’s located in front of you. I can tell you which way all these channels run and where they merge and end.”

Ross studied him a couple of seconds, then nodded. “I’m not foolish enough to turn down help from an expert in these parts. Especially not on something this important. Come with me. If you think of anything we need to know along the way, offer it up.”

“Thanks,” Colt said, as enormous relief swept over him. “I really appreciate you letting me stick around.”

“I’d be asking the same if it was my friend out there.”

Ross whistled and waved a hand at the men that were milling around. “I want you to split into two groups. Each group will take a dog and proceed in opposite directions along the edge of the highway. Agent Thompson, do you have the clothing?”

“Yes, sir.” A young agent standing nearby held up two Baggies with garments inside.

“You’re positive the garments belong to Agent Bordeaux and not Agent Blanchard?”

“Unless Agent Blanchard wears women’s undergarments, I’m sure.”

Ross smiled. “Seems a safe bet. Let the dog take the lead. I want everyone but the handler to case the edges of the swamp, looking for any sign of passage.”

One of the men raised a hand. “How far down do we go before circling back?”

“How far is Mudbug?” Ross asked Colt.

“About ten miles to the city limits from here.”

Ross nodded. “My team will cover ten miles moving west. Going east, the nearest structure is a diner that’s about thirty minutes’ drive. I doubt Agent Blanchard chased a car thirty miles, so cover ten miles east then circle around and cover the other side of the highway on the way back until the teams meet up.”

“Should we check the swamp?” one of the men asked.

“Yes, but not deeply. If you get an indication from the dog, call me and wait for me to arrive with the other dog before pursuing the lead. Does everyone understand your directive?”

They all nodded.

“I don’t think I need to remind any of you that this one is personal. I know we all give 100 percent to our jobs every day, but today, I’m asking you all to double that.” He hoisted a backpack over his shoulders. “Let’s get to it.”

Colt fell in step beside Ross, moving west down the side of the highway. Ross spoke briefly to the dog handler, then headed for the tree line behind the other men. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’d like us to step inside about ten feet. The ground looks softer where the sun doesn’t reach. Might be easier to see footprints.”

“If there are any,” Colt said.

Ross nodded and stepped into the brush. “You got any thoughts about this?”

“Me? Raissa and Zach never talked about their cases.”

Ross paused for a second, pinning his gaze on Colt’s. “Home office doesn’t think this has anything to do with a case.”

“They’re sure?”

“Seem to be,” Ross said and started walking again. “Agents Bordeaux and Blanchard have been working the same case for the last four months. I wasn’t involved and can’t provide you any details of what I was told, but I will say that the men they were after are safely locked away awaiting federal indictment.”

“No fringe elements seeking revenge?”

“It was a small operation and everyone went down in the bust.”

Colt rolled that information over in his mind, trying to make sense of it. He’d assumed since he talked to Luc at the hospital that whatever had happened to Zach and Raissa was tied to their work at the bureau, but Ross was telling him straight-out that wasn’t the case. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that the problem could be a local one, and now that it was front and center, he was even more disturbed than ever.