She glanced at him and saw that he was straining to maintain a casual tone. Then she noticed he was keeping Bolo tight on his other side, giving the dog a short leash with no alternative but to walk next to Jason, so close she imagined the dog was brushing against Jason’s pant leg. And she could see the reason for the short leash. The line of hair that stood up on Bolo’s back and pointed in the opposite direction—the line that defined him as a ridgeback—was now bristling with the rest of the dog’s back and neck.
She remembered Creed saying that Bolo was overprotective of him. That protection must extend to Jason. The dog eyed the other men climbing out of their trucks. His head pivoted to the sounds they made. He viewed them as a threat. This simple walk was far from his comfort zone. That was back up in the woods, along the floodwaters, where he could concentrate only on the scent he was asked to find.
“I’m parked in the lot just across the street,” O’Dell told him, getting a glimpse of it now. “I need to grab my overnight bag or I won’t have dry clothes.”
“Sure thing.” He nodded. “We’ll catch up to you at Decon.”
His tone was still even and casual, signaling that everything was fine. But she wondered if he realized his tight and strained posture was probably screaming at Bolo that everything was not fine. The dog was strong and muscular. Was Jason worried he wouldn’t be able to control him with only one hand? Her own dog Jake—a huge black German shepherd—could knock her off her feet if he tugged suddenly.
She wanted to ask Jason if he’d be okay, but there wasn’t any way to do that without contributing to Bolo’s tension and making Jason even more self-conscious. Instead, she simply agreed she’d see them later and broke off in the other direction, trying hard not to look back.
O’Dell climbed inside her SUV to get out of the rain and immediately pulled out her cell phone. No messages from Ben. She tamped down her irritation. She didn’t want to talk to him right now, anyway. Instead she called her boss, Assistant Director Kunze, and left him a message. Then she tapped another number in her phone’s memory and waited.
Gwen had been disguising her depression for months now and the surgery had made that more difficult. O’Dell just needed to hear that her friend was okay. She never expected the cheerful and excited voice that answered.
“So have you seen him yet?” Her friend sounded like a teenager.
O’Dell couldn’t help it. The exhaustion from the day caught up with her and she simply smiled.
40.
Through the crowded Decon area, Creed was glad to see Dr. Avelyn. Three large tents had been erected in what otherwise was a back parking lot behind the school’s gymnasium. The line waiting to go through the process snaked around the corner of the building. Rescue workers had started calling it a day. And now they stood, wet and muddy, waiting their turn to be hosed down.
The rain was steady now with no signs of easing up, and nightfall would come soon. Creed felt what most of them were feeling—exhausted, hungry, dead tired, and yet reluctant to stop because they knew there might still be victims out there alive, buried under debris and mud, clinging to their last gasps. People like Mrs. Hamlet, waiting out yet another night.
Creed had left Grace with the old woman while he found his way back up the hill. Before he left them he had entered their location in his handheld GPS’s memory. He hadn’t wanted to waste any time finding them again. When he reached Vance and Mrs. Hamlet’s daughter, he brought up the location and discovered a shortcut.
They were able to carry the woman to her anxious daughter and a waiting ambulance. And through it all, Grace had never left the old woman’s side until they closed the medical van’s doors. The little dog hadn’t even complained about the pieces of glass buried between the pads of her feet.
Now Creed was eager to get Grace taken care of. There were only three search dogs waiting to be examined. He weaved his way through the rescue workers. When Dr. Avelyn saw him, she waved and gestured for him to cut through.
Grace pranced among the booted workers, greeting them with a wagging tail. Some of them smiled and bent down to pet her. Others parted out of Creed’s way when they saw Grace. By the time he reached Dr. Avelyn’s tented station, she was finishing her inspection of the last of the three dogs. When Grace recognized her, she could barely contain her excitement.
“Settle down,” Creed told her.
Dr. Avelyn immediately contradicted his command. She squatted down, opened her arms, and called Grace to her. He unsnapped the leash and the dog flew on bruised and bleeding paws.
“I just checked through Jason and Bolo about fifteen minutes ago,” she told him.
“Good. I’m glad they’re back. They okay?”
“Bolo’s a little freaked by all the men.”
“I bet he was glad to see you, then.”
She smiled. “I heard about your adventure today, Grace,” she told the little dog as she massaged her hands over Grace’s body, feeling for signs of distress or wounds. She glanced up at Creed and gave him another smile. “Sounds like you’ve had an interesting couple of days.”
“It’s been crazy.”
“You look like hell,” she said. She pointed to the cut above his eye. “You need to have that covered when you’re working in the field.”