Page 9 of Scent of Fear

He nodded and drew the rubber ducky from the front pocket of the backpack and tossed it into the air. “Good boy, Bryce! Good boy!”

“I don’t understand what happened.” Libby held up the broken glasses, glancing around with a frown. “It seems odd that Grandpa would have fallen here in this flat area.”

Shane nodded slowly. “I agree, I don’t think he fell here.” He moved to the other side of the small clearing, then stopped when he saw the tire tracks.

Lowering to a crouch, he estimated the tire width was too small for a car. Not that anyone could have gotten a car in here anyway. But the tire tracks did veer off along a wider trail.

This was where the four-wheeler engine had been. The poacher hadn’t just taken off with his dead carcass.

He must have taken Libby’s grandfather along too.

3

Trying not to limp, Libby crossed over to see what had caught Shane’s attention. Bryce was still playing with his rubber ducky, and she had to admit the large dog was growing on her. Well, as long as he didn’t get too close. But the way the K9 had found her grandfather’s broken glasses was amazing.

She frowned as Shane slowly stood. “Are those tire tracks?”

“Yeah.” He held her gaze. “That was a four-wheeler we heard earlier. I believe the poacher took your grandfather with him.”

“But why?” Her heart squeezed with fear. “I don’t understand.”

“I wish I knew. It doesn’t make sense to me either.” He stepped closer and placed a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, but we need to head back to the cabin.”

“No, I want to keep going.” She couldn’t bear the thought of giving up on her grandfather. “We can follow the four-wheeler tracks...”

“Not without more help,” Shane interrupted. “First of all, they can go for miles on that thing. We’re so far behind now it’s not funny. Second, your ankle is hurt. Lastly and most importantly, we need additional equipment and law enforcement backup. Whoever that guy is, he’s armed. He shot at us, remember?”

She hated to admit that he was right about the law enforcement backup. She should have called the sheriff’s department when she’d noticed her grandfather was missing. It was still hard to believe that Grandpa had gone after a poacher on his own rather than simply calling the game warden. She looked at Shane. “What kind of equipment?”

“We have horses and four-wheelers on the ranch.” Shane turned to stare at the trail. “I’m getting the sense the poacher knows this area well. Otherwise, how did he know to bring a four-wheeler? And it’s bugging me that he took your grandfather with him. I mean, what’s the point of that?”

“I wish I knew.” Libby hated the thought of turning back, but hearing about horses and four-wheelers gave her hope that Shane wasn’t giving up. “How long will it take to get the equipment here to keep searching?”

Shane pulled out his phone and grimaced. “Having cell service would help. Once I call my siblings, I’m sure they can get packed up and hit the road within the hour.”

“That sounds good.” Her ankle was sore, so there was no point in arguing. Especially since they still had to hike back to her grandfather’s cabin. Sitting on a horse or a four-wheeler would be easier than continuing the search on foot. Safer too. She honestly didn’t want Shane or Bryce to be put in danger over this. “There’s cell service near the cabin. I talk to my grandfather all the time.”

He grunted and turned toward his dog. “Come, Bryce.”

The K9 bounded over, dropping the ducky in Shane’s outstretched hand without being asked. She tucked her grandfather’s broken glasses into her jeans pocket and followed Shane as he and Bryce set out to retrace their steps.

Her thoughts whirled as they walked. Shane was right that it made no sense for a poacher to take Grandpa with him. Unless her grandfather was hurt? The broken glasses indicated he must have fallen. But why would the poacher care about that? Especially since the poacher knew she and Shane were looking for him? Why not take off and leave them to find and rescue her grandfather?

The niggling concern grew intense as she considered the poacher’s goal might be to find another place to dump her grandfather’s body. Just because he’d caught the guy poaching? It seemed ridiculous to take things to that extent.

But she couldn’t come up with a better theory either.

Libby stepped on a rock, rolling her sore ankle, and winced. Shane pinned her with a sharp gaze. “Let’s find a walking stick for you to use.”

She wanted to protest, but Shane was already eyeing the tree branches around them. He shrugged out of his pack, removed a small hatchet, and used it to break off a long, thick tree branch. From there, he honed it down, then handed it to her.

“Thank you.” She leaned on the stick. “What else do you have in that backpack of yours anyway?”

“Stuff.” He gave a nonchalant shrug, then continued heading down the mountainside with Bryce beside him. Now that the dog wasn’t in tracking mode, he had his nose up and was sniffing the area with interest. The way Bryce had switched gears from being keenly intent on following her grandfather’s scent to enjoying the day amazed her.

The dog was probably smarter than most people.

Using the walking stick helped. She managed to keep up with Shane and Bryce but couldn’t deny a wave of relief when Shane lifted a hand indicating it was time for a break.

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