A dog barked. Archie looked up to see a dark figure on the path and the shadow of an animal. He swung his flashlight down toward the animal. The light reflected off its eyes, two silver orbs in the darkness.
“His name’s Cody,” the person with the dog said. “Mine’s Ellen. Which one of you is Sheridan?”
“I am,” Archie said.
She stepped forward, climbing up toward him, the dog a respectful few feet behind her. They shone their flashlights in her path to light her way, and Archie got a better look at her. She was a big woman, tall and slightly plump, with a long torso that dominated her body and a broad, masculine gait. She wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail and was dressed appropriately for the weather, with tall rubber boots, yellow rain pants, and a quilted down jacket. Ah, June in Portland.
When she reached Archie she held out her hand and he shook it. “Okay,” she said. “This is how it’s going to work. I’m going to let Cody off lead. He’ll move around the area, looking for scents. If he finds something, he’ll crouch down, like this.” She looked down at the dog and said, “Cody, alert,” and the dog sank down on his elbows and yowled. Ellen looked up. “I will praise him. Then you can move in and check out what he’s found.”
Archie had worked with cadaver dogs before. Once Gretchen had mutilated a man and left his heart and spleen in a shoebox, tied with a red ribbon, on a bed in a motel room in North Portland. Tied to the box was a typed gift tag addressed to Detective Archie Sheridan. The hotel staff called 911 within moments of finding the package. Gretchen had wrapped the organs in plastic but it had leaked and the box was soaked with blood. Archie opened the box and then brought in a dog to try to locate any other pieces. It had worked. The dog found the man’s tongue in the ice machine, his penis in the key drop-off box, and the rest of him in the Dumpster of the restaurant next door.
“Assuming there are remains,” Henry said, “how long is this going to take?”
“Could be minutes,” Ellen said. “Could be days.”
“Days,” Henry said.
“Longer maybe,” Ellen said. She bent down and unhooked the dog’s lead. “Cody, go,” she said.
The dog put his nose to the ground and began rooting through the vegetation.
Susan stepped forward and took her flashlight out of her mouth. “How long have you been with Search and Rescue?” she asked Ellen.
“I’m not,” Ellen said.
“She’s a volunteer,” Archie said. “We don’t have the money to fund a cadaver dog unit. So people like Ellen take some training courses with their dogs and volunteer.”
“I work at Home Depot,” Ellen said.
“We found a body a few days ago about a quarter mile down the creek,” Archie said. “Is that going to distract him?”
“Did you remove the remains?” Ellen asked.
“Yeah,” Archie said.
“Should be fine,” Ellen said. “There,” she said suddenly. She turned her flashlight to Cody, who was crouching a few feet from where Archie and Henry had just been searching. “Good boy,” Ellen said. She walked up behind the dog, clipped his lead back on, and gave his head a vigorous rub.
The area that Cody was indicating was covered with vines. Archie walked up and sank down to his hands and knees. “Shine your lights here,” he said to the others. One by one they all stood around him, Susan, the ornithologist, Henry, Ellen, the patrol cops, the Search and Rescue workers, each shone a flashlight on the spot where the dog had knelt, until the ten yellow circles of light joined into one. Archie moved the ivy and morning glory vines aside with his hands. He started out slowly, methodically, careful not to disturb anything he didn’t have to, and then began pulling at the vines, uprooting them and tossing them to the side. When he had cleared the area he sat back on his knees.
Susan leaned forward. “There’s nothing there,” she said.
Archie turned to the dog. “Should we dig, boy?” he asked, scratching the dog’s head with his muddy hand. “Is it buried?”
Cody cocked his head and looked at Archie and then looked at the now bare spot of earth.
“I’ll get the shovels,” one of the Search and Rescue volunteers said, and he headed noisily for the path.
Archie looked at the mud. It was rough, thick with pebbles and roots. Archie picked up a pebble and rolled it between his fingers. It was light and porous. He touched it to his tongue.
“Why are you eating that rock?” Susan asked.
“It’s not a rock,” Archie said. Rocks were dense and wouldn’t stick to saliva. This was porous. “It’s bone.”
Cody whined and pulled at his lead.
Archie looked up at the dog. Anything that would chip bone like this wouldn’t leave hair like what they’d seen in the nest. There was another body. “Let him go,” he told Ellen.