Page 44 of Fallen Creed

“We cancelled on each other a couple of times.”

Maggie couldn’t remember the excuses now. She was under pressure to form a special crime unit at Quantico. The new director had given her free rein on her selections, but he also wanted it done and ready to go as soon as possible. She should have pushed for some time off.

“Rye was injured more than he let on.”

“I wondered about that,” Maggie said.

But she didn’t dare ask during their phone calls. Hearing it, confirming it, only made her sick to her stomach. She shouldn’t have asked him to take part in the trafficking project. Ryder had a strong sense of duty and obligation. Last year, this task force had given him his sister back. How did she not realize he was still hurting?

“He had what they called a lower back contusion. Rye said it was a fancy way of saying it was bruised. But it was bad enough to form a hematoma. That, with the broken ribs and the drug overdose...”

“Are you worried that he might be incapacitated?”

Maggie remembered how tired he was last night. She thought the two-day drive and the long day of searching were enough to cause his exhaustion. She suspected there might be a lingering injury. And now, how could she tell Hannah the woman Ryder and Grace were searching for might be dangerous?

Hannah was taking too long to answer.

“I know this,” Hannah finally said. “He’d never put Grace in harm’s way. When I talked to him, there was nothing in his voice to suggest he was in distress. If something happened, it came shortly after I talked to him. Otherwise, he was all set to head back.”

Maggie stared out the windshield. She could barely see the entrance to the hotel less than thirty feet away through the blinding snow. And yet, all she wanted to do right now was drive out to the Spencers and figure out a way to find the path Ryder had taken.

She needed to talk to Pakula and the sheriff.

Then she thought of something. If Ryder called Hannah, they might be able to track his phone and find a location.

“Hannah, we’ve got to believe he’s okay. I’m going to check on something. Let’s keep in touch, okay?”

As soon as she ended the call, Maggie called Agent Alonzo.

“You’re getting impatient,” he said, in place of a greeting. “That’s not a good sign.”

“Sorry, I know it’s late. I need a big favor.”

—35—

K9 CrimeScents

Florida Panhandle

Jason Seaver finished the last kennel chores early. He had Brodie to thank for lightening his load. Weeks ago, Hannah insisted Ryder treat her like a full-time employee. Brodie was a hard worker and a fast learner. But she’d taken on Ryder’s bad habit of not knowing when to quit. As Jason walked to the house, he could see her at the clinic, helping Dr. Avelyn.

He’d have plenty of time to clean up and get to Pensacola Beach for a late dinner with Taylor. They hadn’t seen each other for over a week. He missed her. Of course, he’d never admit that to his buddies, who were already hell-bent on endlessly teasing him. Calling him “lover boy” and “Romeo.” Those were the two nicer terms.

Truth was, he didn’t really mind. Jason had never had an actual girlfriend before. Sure, he’d dated in high school, but his best friend, Tony, was a stud and usually the catalyst. Women flocked around Tony. Then they both joined the Army and went off to Afghanistan.

Ironically, they’d both survived war only to come home broken. It was over a year ago that he lost his friend. He missed him. Sometimes he still had conversations with him in his head.

Jason caught himself balling up the fingers on his artificial hand. The new lining looked more like skin, but it was a little weird getting used to it. In the span of two years, he’d gone from an empty shirt sleeve to a robotic contraption and now fingers with sensors.

As an Army nurse, Taylor was fascinated with the continuing process. Jason couldn’t hold back a smile, remembering how she asked him to try out the new sensors on her body. He shook his head. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe his luck. A gorgeous, smart girlfriend. A job he loved. And a home and family.

He felt a nudge on his leg, as if the black Labrador walking alongside him wanted to be included. Jason stopped to pat Scout’s head.

“You’re at the top of the list, buddy,” he told the dog.

If it wasn’t for Scout, Jason wouldn’t be here. And here was home.

Sometimes, this place amazed Jason. Hannah and Ryder had built an incredible business. Tucked into the trees at the edge of Blackwater River State Forest, their fifty-acre property housed and trained dozens of dogs they’d rescued. The huge colonial house had been renovated to be their office and home for Hannah, her boys and now Brodie.