Page 2 of Scent of Fear

After what seemed like forever, she heard the rumble of an approaching car. She hurried out front, watching as a black SUV bounced up the driveway. Shane stopped behind her red pickup truck and slid out from behind the wheel. He was tall and lean, with dark-brown hair and mesmerizing blue eyes. He gave her a nod as the back hatch sprung open, and a huge German shepherd bounded out. Libby took a hasty step backward, fearing the dog would charge toward her.

“Bryce, heel,” Shane commanded.

The dog whirled and went straight to Shane’s side. The large black and tan dog sat and stared up at him expectantly.

“Good boy,” Shane murmured. He raised his gaze to her. “Come closer, Libby. I want Bryce to know you’re a friend.”

Swallowing against a knot of fear, she crossed over to join them. Shane reached out for her hand, then brought it toward his dog’s snout. “Friend, Bryce. Libby is a friend.”

Bryce sniffed her fingers with interest, then gazed at her with his dark-brown eyes. His tail swished over the ground, but up close, the dog was still intimidating. She offered a weak smile. “Good doggy. No biting, okay?”

“Bryce won’t bite you.” Shane frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of dogs?”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” She tugged her hand free and stepped back. “Not afraid exactly, just wary. I was bitten by a dog as a kid.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I promise you don’t have to be afraid of Bryce. He won’t bite except on my command.” As she was wondering how often he’d commanded his dog to bite, Shane turned to head toward the rear hatch of his vehicle. “Let me get Bryce ready and we’ll start the search. Do you have your grandfather’s clothes?” At her nod, he continued. “If you could place a few items in a plastic bag, that would be good. Dirty socks work well and so do recently worn T-shirts.”

Grateful for something to do, she said, “I’ll get them.”

A few minutes later, she returned to find Bryce wearing a K9 vest strapped around his torso. Shane had a large backpack slung over his shoulders and was chattering with the dog, asking if he was ready to play the search game. Bryce stared up at Shane, his tail wagging with excitement.

“Here.” She handed him the bag containing four pairs of her grandfather’s dirty socks and a worn T-shirt, trying not to get too close to Bryce.

“Thanks. You mentioned arthritis?” Shane arched a brow. “Any other medical issues I need to know about?”

“He’s been a little more forgetful than usual,” she admitted. “But he’s sixty-nine and will be seventy in November. I figure that’s just part of getting older, right?”

“Maybe.” Shane was noncommittal. “What’s your grandfather’s name?”

“Marvin.”

“Okay, thanks.” He filled a collapsible bowl with water and set it before Bryce. The dog lowered his head, took a few laps of water, then stared up at Shane again. “Good boy, are you ready to search? Here, this is Marvin.” Shane opened the bag of clothes. Bryce eagerly buried his snout in the clothing. “Marvin, Bryce. Search! Search for Marvin!”

After one last sniff in the bag, Bryce lifted his nose to the air, then turned and trotted toward the cabin. Shane hurried after his dog. Libby picked up her pace, too, already encouraged by Shane’s professional approach to the search.

She was confident Shane and Bryce would find her grandfather. The Sullivans had an amazing reputation for success. Everyone in the area sang their praises. This would work. She refused to consider the alternative.

Hang on, Grandpa! We’re coming!

* * *

Shane was far tooaware of Libby beside him. Doing his best to ignore her flowery scent, he gave his K9, Bryce, plenty of room to work. He hadn’t seen Libby in years, but she looked the same as he remembered. Her auburn hair was wavy and loose, the ends touching her shoulders, and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose made her look as young as she had been back in high school.

She was cute in the girl-next-door kind of way.

Not that he was interested in anything other than finding her grandfather. Just because his oldest siblings were falling in love left and right didn’t mean he was joining the club. The girl he’d loved had died years ago. He wasn’t interested in trying again.

Pushing thoughts of Libby and Rebecca from his mind, he focused on the mission at hand. At sixty-nine, Marvin Tolliver wasn’t that old, but having arthritis meant the guy could have fallen and was right now lying out in the woods, unconscious.

If so, Bryce would find him.

Bryce trotted around the rustic log cabin, not unlike the one Shane lived in on the Sullivan ranch, then abruptly stopped and sniffed intently along the patio near the overturned chair. Shane wasn’t surprised when Bryce sat and let out a sharp bark, staring at him.

“Good boy, Bryce.” He had Bryce’s yellow rubber ducky in his pocket but didn’t bring out the reward just yet. This was only the beginning of their game, and he wouldn’t reward his K9 until they were further along in the process. “Search! Search for Marvin!”

Bryce eagerly jumped back into the search, sniffing the concrete patio, then trotting out over the grassy lawn toward the woods.

As they followed, he glanced at Libby. “Any idea how long your grandfather has been gone?”

---