Page 36 of The Boy Who Cried Bear
“Continue with what?” Louie says finally.
“Elaborate on how I am doing this wrong. I’m always open to constructive criticism.”
I bite my cheek at that. Sure, Dalton accepts useful critiques … from the select few people whose opinion he values enough to listen to. Something tells me Louie isn’t part of that club, but the man straightens, his chin lifting as he prepares to elder-splain Dalton’s job to him.
“You have no idea how to conduct a proper search,” Louie says. “You need grids and search teams.”
I turn to Dalton. “He’s right. I think I’ve seen that on TV.”
Louie nods. “You should listen to your wife. I don’t know what actual law-enforcement experience you have, son, but you’re doing this all wrong. You need to form teams and grids and get search dogs.” He shoots a pointed glance at Storm. “That’s a lapdog.”
My brows shoot up. “You’re a brave man if you want her on your lap. Last time she hopped on mine, I nearly suffocated.”
“You know what I mean. That’s not a tracking breed. She’s a pet. Now, if you’ll let me take charge of this search—”
“Glad to,” Dalton says. “I just need to know your qualifications.”
A sly look creeps into Louie’s eyes. “Oh, but that’s the problem. I can’t provide them. My past is confidential. Just trust that I know what I’m doing. I’ve been on multiple searches.”
“In what capacity?”
“I can’t say.”
“Law enforcement? Ranger service? Search-and-rescue?”
“Can’t say.”
Dalton nods. “I understand. Just as you’ll understand that we need to confirm your expertise with the person who conducted your background check. We won’t ask for details. We’ll just say that you’ve represented yourself as a professional in this area. If they can confirm your credentials, then we will welcome your input. If they can’t—” He steps toward Louie. “—your stay in Haven’s Rock will be terminated for interfering with a critical mission.”
Louie smirks. “Don’t embarrass yourself with idle threats, Sheriff. You don’t have the authority to kick me out.”
Dalton does an excellent job of not laughing at that. “Maybe not, but if you misrepresented—”
“I said I’ve been on searches. That’s all.”
“In a professional capacity that would give you the right to question my own expertise.”
“I never said—” Louie begins.
“How many searches have you been on?”
“Two.”
“I’ve been on dozens, and I’m damn well going to bet my recovery rate was higher and my personal involvement was greater. Now, if you want to challenge my authority, go ahead, but if you do, then I am checking your credentials, and if they don’t reflect your claim of expertise—which we both know they won’t—then you are going home.”
“You’re doing this wrong, and I have a right to my opinion.”
“Yep, you do. And you have a right to wait in town and give me that opinion when I return. You do not have a right to be out here, fucking up my search.”
“Fucking up your search?”
Dalton continues toward Louie, making him back up. “You damaged a potential scene. You interrupted our search of that scene. We now need to abandon the scene to escort you back to town, after you’ve been barreling through this forest, fucking up my fucking search grid, filling it with trails that do not belong to the child we are looking for. There is a boy out here—”
“We both know that’s not true.”
Dalton rocks back. “Excuse me?”
“The kid’s dead, and you know it. It’s been twenty-four hours. We’re looking for a body.”
