One Step Too Far (Frankie Elkin #2)(40)



Martin stares at her a long, long time. Once again, his face is shuttered. Once again, he’s seeing things only he can see.

The three amigos shift restlessly. Bob adjusts his pack. We wait.

Still, Martin doesn’t answer.

Now that we’re here and the moment is at hand, does he really want to proceed? To stumble upon his child’s bones? To learn once and for all what happened to his son, realizing he can never unknow it?

Closure is such a tricky, tricky thing.

A single snaking tremor, rippling through his entire body. Martin turns to Luciana.

He says, “Yes.”



* * *





“Searches work best as a team of three: canine, handler, and support person.” Luciana eyes our group expectantly.

Martin immediately raises his hand. “Support person.”

Luciana regards him for a moment, clearly considering. Then abruptly: “No.”

Martin blinks. This is the first time I’ve heard someone tell him no. It’s clearly not his thing.

“Wait just a damn moment—”

“Do you even know what a support person does?”

Martin scowls. “No.”

“You plot progress using compass points and are in charge of communicating with the rest of the group to ensure we don’t intersect one another or duplicate efforts. Do you feel like staring at a map and compass, or do you want to keep your eye out for signs of Tim?”

That scowl again. Martin doesn’t have to speak for us to know his answer. Luciana waits for it anyway. This is her area of expertise and she’s establishing her dominance right out of the gate. I want to applaud but I worry it might be in poor taste.

“Fine,” Martin bites out, graceful to the bitter end.

Bob speaks up. “I’m good with a compass.”

Luciana nods at him. “Perfect. You’re support. So this is how it’ll work.” At the word work, Daisy perks up. Luciana acknowledges her canine companion with a pat on the head. “Yes, work, work, work,” she coos. “We’re getting ready to work.” Now Daisy positively vibrates with excitement.

“It’s important to get her revved up. The more engaged she is, the better she’ll do,” Luciana informs the rest of us. “Not that Daisy ever needs much. She genuinely loves the hunt.

“Now, Daisy is our tracker. Bob is our recorder. That makes me the navigator. Most of you probably have real hobbies. I do things like watch how mist rises off the water, the movement of fog as it eddies through a canyon, the waft of smoke from a backyard grill. Scent behaves exactly the same way, as it is captured by the same air currents. It rises up with temperature and open expanses. It pools at barriers, such as fence lines, mountain ridges, thick outcroppings. Cooler mornings you want to start downwind in a gully. Hot afternoons you want to be at the top of the same gully.” She pauses. “I put our current conditions at base neutral, not too hot, not too cold. Meaning I’ll start Daisy downwind”—she holds up the puffer—“then keep an eye on topography. The rest of you can assist with that as well. A downed tree, a steep rise in elevation. Look for anyplace you can picture fog collecting. Those are great targets for Daisy, increasing her probability of picking up the trail.

“Your next job: Stay out of Daisy’s way. You should spread out behind us, like sweepers on a soccer field, where you’ll serve as extra sets of eyes. Daisy will be tracking for human remains, meaning she’ll go straight past everything else—a discarded backpack, a scrap of cloth, a bit of cord, et cetera. For that matter, she could be standing three feet from the body, and if it’s even slightly downwind, she’ll walk right past it. Her focus will be on what she can smell. Our focus needs to be on what we can see.”

We nod obediently.

“I recommend arranging yourselves in three teams of two. Partly for safety’s sake. We don’t need anyone staring at the ground so hard he or she loses their way and steps off a cliff. You might think I’m being silly, but trust me, it happens.”

“It happens,” Nemeth agrees.

“Daisy, are you ready to work?”

Daisy prances again. She is so ready to work. Her entire being screams, Work, work, work.

“So, in a moment, I’m going to give Daisy her search command. You’re going to think I’m crazy, but it’s an inside joke. Immediately afterwards, Daisy’s going to race around, desperate to discover the scent trail. So be prepared, and stay out of her way. Then you’ll see her settle, grow more methodical in her approach. We’ll give her two hours, standard protocol. If she hasn’t discovered anything by then, we should probably move on.” Luciana glances at Martin. “This particular site does seem temporary in nature, versus the caves you’ve identified as possible long-term shelters.”

Martin nods. He appears mollified to have his master plan acknowledged.

“Any questions?” Luciana asks us.

We shake our heads.

“Pair up.”

I already figure Martin and Nemeth will partner, being superior beings and all. That leaves the four members of the B team—myself, Neil, Scott, and Miguel—to sort out. I’ve been looking for a chance to talk to Neil, so I turn to him automatically. But he and Miggy have already closed ranks. And not subtly at all. They take a definitive step away from Scott, leaving him standing alone. I watch the sting of rejection play across his face. Then the squaring of his shoulders as he accepts his fate.

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