But Lily was game, prancing around on the snow-covered ground as she had done on the ski slopes of Utah.
Kye bent down and rubbed her chest to get her into search mode. “Good girl, Lily. Good girl.” He held the muzzle that belonged to Oleg under her nose so that Lily could catch the Czech wolfdog’s scent. Then he took it away, unleashed her, and stood up. “Search. Oleg. Search!”
The toller immediately began sniffing the air. Moving in ever-increasing circles, under the arc of lights she suddenly paused, barked excitedly, and ran forward down the road.
“Go!” Kye followed Lily, who was doing some heavy air sniffing as they went along. It was but a few seconds before the deputy’s hound seemed to catch a scent, too. The dog raced forward, straining at the end of his handler’s long search leash.
They quickly went off road, up an incline, and into the woods. Kye could hear Lily moving ahead of them. The sky was clear now but the winter woods were murky. Only the flash of Lily’s bright-red coat when she crossed the light thrown by his flashlight offered a vivid contrast with the bare branches of oak and chestnut and the blue-green density of evergreens.
Every few minutes, Lily would stop and do what he called her wave motion, moving her head up and down, trying to find the scent on an air current to keep them moving forward. Once enclosed in woods, scents often became misdirected. Cool weather kept scents from rising from the ground.
For ten minutes, they moved between field and tree stands, heading east and then south, deeper into the woods without a track. Kye kept his gaze forward, watching Lily’s back though she was anywhere from ten to fifteen yards ahead of him. It was clear she was in her element, tracking and glorying in the chase. Once in a while she glanced back at him.
He was just about to call Yardley when Lily stopped dead. She sniffed twice. Snorting and backpedaling, she began yipping excitedly and then running in circles, sneezing and yipping.
“What’s that mean?” The sheriff had come up behind them.
“She’s found something. Stay back.” He was very much concerned that Lily had caught the scent of death.
With a heavy stroking heart, he moved forward. When he was within ten feet of Lily, he withdrew the FLIR. It was a forward-looking infrared device that would allow him to see variances in heat. Every living thing gave off heat. He hadn’t wanted to use it while there was a chance he could scan a raccoon or other wild creature. Now he aimed it in the area where Lily was dancing in concern. It registered two signatures, Lily’s the brighter of the two.
“Found him. Stay back.”
“Heel.” Lily came bounding toward him, thrilled to get the chew toy Kye pulled out as reward. He snapped on the leash and handed the end of it to the sheriff.
He turned and approached the injured dog slowly. Oleg was lying on his side and did not even lift his head as Kye approached. He was hurt and in pain.
Kye used his flashlight to guide him but held the beam off the dog’s face so that it didn’t blind the canine.
“Hey here, big fella. Hey, Oleg. You’ve had a big night, haven’t you?”
Oleg roused himself to lift his head but whined and lay back down.
Kye got down on his knees. An injured dog was often a frightened one and he didn’t want to get bit if he could help it. “It’s okay, Oleg. Good boy. You saved lives tonight. Yes you did. You deserve a medal.” Kye wished he knew some Czech phrases but he hoped his tone would convey his intentions.
“Need to get you out of here, Oleg. Going to put the muzzle on you.” He held it out so that Oleg could sniff it. After a moment, the dog did just that. He bared his teeth but did not try to bite it.
“I know. I’d hate it, too, if I were you. But it’s okay. Just a precaution.”
When Oleg lifted his head again, Kye slipped the wire basket over his snout. When Oleg didn’t react, Kye quickly slipped the straps into place and buckled it.
Using the blanket he’d brought with him, he scooped up the Czech wolfdog. He wasn’t surprised by the dog’s sudden growl of warning or even when he tried to snap at him. He felt the dampness of his fur wasn’t all from the snowy ground.
Once he held him in his arms, he turned to the sheriff. “Let’s go. Can someone call ahead to wake a vet?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
April, Harmonie Kennels
“Hier. Storm. Thunder.”