High Intensity (High Mountain Trackers HMT 2G #2)

Chapter 25

Twenty-Five

Jillian

“No.”

He looks surprised at my outright refusal.

I don’t think he’s heard no much in his privileged life.

“I should’ve taken her last night. She’s my niece, and since I’m paying your bill, I’m coming.” he states firmly, completely disregarding my boundaries.

“I don’t know anything about last night, but no one is paying me, and I work alone.” I can already tell he’s going to try and wear me down, wasting valuable time, so I add, “Your presence could throw off my dog’s scent trail, and if you decide to follow me anyway, I will make sure the world knows you are responsible if we don’t find your niece in time.”

I watch Vallard’s eyes dart toward Agent Kramer, who has been listening in on the conversation, gauging if he can count on her support. The look she spears him with speaks volumes, and he wisely chooses to let the subject drop.

“Walk me out the back?” I ask the agent, wanting a word with her in private.

I’d barely had a chance to speak with her alone, since Vallard had been hovering from the moment I got here.

The first thing I’d asked was to see Hayley’s bedroom. Stephanie took me upstairs and told me how they’d found the window open and her sheets together and used as a rope to lower herself to the ground below. The sheets hadn’t quite made it all the way, but the drop wouldn’t have been that far. Bellinger had insisted the sheets be removed. When I noticed the comforter that had been on the bed last night was missing as well, Stephanie suggested Hayley may have taken it. She had also apparently taken most of the clothes the FBI provided her with.

But when I asked about the note I left the girl, the agent said she hadn’t seen any note. That’s when I first had a hunch Hayley may have gone south, following the creek.

The agent had mentioned Bellinger was convinced Hayley would be running scared and end up heading for town, looking for populated areas where should could find help, or at least shelter. I disagree with the man’s assessment. I think he grossly underestimates what that girl is capable of. I’ve seen firsthand how smart and resourceful and courageous she is.

Stephanie follows me out on the deck and slides the doors shut before joining me at the railing.

“Okay, so you’re sure they’re focusing the search north of here, toward town?” I confirm with her, keeping an eye on the house.

“Positive.”

“Have any efforts been made to pull in more resources for the search?”

The woman winces, clearly feeling uncomfortable as she shakes her head. I put a hand on her arm.

“For now, it’s probably better. You know there is nothing worse than an unorganized search, and this already has FUBAR written all over it.”

“I know,” she agrees.

“Okay, just so you know, I’m coordinating my search for Hayley with your former colleague, Lucas Wolff. He is pulling together his search and rescue team, and our focus is going to be south of here.”

She nods her understanding and I turn to Hunter.

“Okay, girl. Are you ready to work?”

I open the Ziploc bag and let her sniff Hayley’s pillowcase, then I lead her to the shrubs under Hayley’s window. She sniffs around the bushes and the patch of grass immediately in front of it. Then she sticks her nose in the air, and takes off toward the back of the yard. I turn and give a thumbs-up to Stephanie before following my dog into the tree line.

As soon as I’m out of sight, I pull out the two-way radio Wolff handed me and put in a call.

“Wolff, come in.”

Within a few seconds the radio crackles to life.

“Go ahead, Jilly.”

His nickname for me puts a smile on my face. Call me a sap, but I like he is the only one who calls me that.

“Remember that note I told you I left Hayley?”

“I remember.”

“She took it. Bellinger is convinced she headed toward town, but I don’t think so.”

“You think she’s trying to find you,” he clues in right away.

“I could be wrong, but I have this gut feeling.”

“Good enough for me. Where do you want us to go?”

“Is there any way you could come up the creek toward my place?”

“Yeah, there’s a cross-country trailhead about two miles south of you, which should give us access to the creek. We’ve just loaded up the horses and are ready to roll.”

“Perfect. Over and out.”

I’m pretty sure I mentioned the dog run and kennel at the back of my yard when I was trying to get Hayley to respond to me, but even if she misses my house for some reason, I don’t think she’ll go that much farther before she realizes that. There aren’t that many residences with a clear view of the water, and there isn’t much at all along the creek south of my street.

Hunter doesn’t hesitate when we get to the creek, and follows her nose to the left. South. I guessed correctly so far, and the more I think about it, the more convinced I become Hayley is trying to find me.

I’m going to make sure she does.

Wolff

“Two by two, on either side of the creek. It’s possible she crossed the ice.”

I personally don’t think it’s likely, but I’m not going to argue with Jonas, who wanted to come and is leading this search.

“Yeah, we don’t want to scare her off either,” I add. “Four men on horseback will likely just send her deeper into hiding. Let’s not forget, Hayley doesn’t want to be found. Right now, the only person she seems to trust is Jillian.”

I also voted against putting the drone up when Sully offered, basically for the same reason. If she spotted it, I could see her get spooked which would only make her harder to find.

“Right,” Jonas affirms. “You guys get rolling and stay in touch.”

Judge automatically follows Santiago, JD’s ride. We’re often paired up; the horses work well side by side, and JD and I make a decent team. James is riding with us this morning, and he is teamed up with Jackson, who insisted on joining us on horseback this time. He is still learning, and there isn’t a better teacher when it comes to fundamental tracking than James.

It’s almost ten thirty already by the time we get to Big Cherry Creek. This isn’t a run-of-the-mill type of creek. There are large portions where the creek splits off into meandering streams of water that rejoin farther up into one single flow. The water is frozen, so it wouldn’t have been hard to cross any of these smaller tributaries.

James and Jackson cross to the west side of the creek and all but disappear into the trees on the far side. JD and I stick to cover as much as we can as well. We want to locate Hayley without giving her a chance to see us coming. That might be a tall order, given that we’re a bunch of large men on big horses, but we can move pretty stealthily when we put our minds to it.

The sky is a bit overcast and I wouldn’t be surprised if we were in for some snow later in the day. Not that anything was forecast when I checked the weather before we left, but if there’s one thing you learn quickly in these mountains, it’s the weather can change from one valley to the next.

“Does she know you?” JD asks as we make our way upstream.

“Hayley? When we first found her, I carried her back to camp, but I’m not sure she’d remember much. I haven’t really had contact with her since, that’s all been Jillian.”

“Any idea what made her run? I mean, she’d been in the care of the FBI for a while already, hadn’t she?”

“About a week, yeah. I’ve been thinking about that too. The only thing I can come up with is Jillian told me she’d had some kind of breakthrough with Hayley yesterday. She’d been closed off and mostly silent up until then, and according to Jillian, it was like an emotional dam breaking. Maybe that triggered something,” I suggest.

JD hums once before silence returns, and we focus on the search. Every so often JD will signal for me to stop as he takes a closer look at something that draws his attention, only to dismiss it as not relevant. Search and rescue can be tedious and long at times, and our biggest struggle is to stay sharp and not start missing clues because of complacency. Patience and attention to detail are definite prerequisites for this kind of work, but every small trace we find renews our energy, and when a search comes to a successful end, there is no greater satisfaction.

Sadly, so far there have been no clues to find, and the closer we get to Jillian’s neighborhood, the less confident I feel.

The burst of static on my radio is loud enough to startle even Judge, whose muscles tense at the sudden noise.

“Wolff? Come in,” I hear Jillian’s garbled voice.

“Go ahead.”

“Hunter led me almost straight to my place, where are you?”

“Maybe half a mile out.”

“Okay, good. Because I think I’ve been followed.”

Jillian

“Good girl.”

I close the zipper on the plastic bag after giving Hunter another sniff at Hayley’s pillowcase.

She didn’t really need it—she’s had the girl’s scent since we left the FBI safe house—but I’ve been trying to slow down our progress to allow Wolff’s team to catch up.

A little over a mile into the search, I started getting the sense I was being watched, and not long after I thought I heard some movement behind me, but I couldn’t see anything. That happened a few more times since, and right before I radioed Wolff, I caught a glimpse of something moving in the trees about a hundred yards or so back.

It’s a fair guess it would be one of two possibilities; either Grant Vallard ignored my warning and was able to slip away from under the FBI’s scrutiny, or Bellinger returned and is hoping I find Hayley for him. I’m guessing the Bureau won’t look kindly on him losing a witness under his protection—especially when the witness is a minor and the heiress to a vast fortune—so it makes sense he’d do anything to get her back.

Either way, I don’t want to lead either of these men to Hayley’s whereabouts until I have a chance to talk to her alone and find out why she ran. That’s why I asked Wolff and his team to try and run interference, while I find the girl.

Pretending Hunter needed another sniff of Hayley’s scent bought the guys another few minutes to catch up with us.

“Go find her, Hunter.”

There is no hesitation as the dog pulls on her leash and leads me toward the rear of my property. I have to resist the urge to constantly look over my shoulder and focus on my dog instead.

I can hear my dogs barking in the house the moment we step clear of the trees. They must’ve seen us coming. Hunter seems unaffected by the ruckus inside the house and instead aims for the dog run on the far side of the yard. Even from a distance I can tell the small door to the kennel is open a crack. I always make sure I keep that closed so other critters can’t get in and make a house.

I’m so focused on the small building, it takes me a moment to realize the barking from inside my house has reached a fevered pitch, but by then it’s too late.

“Where the fuck is she?”

The first thing I notice when I whirl around is the barrel of a gun aimed at my face.