Stranded

Grace,” Creed told them, pointing inside the Jeep but making no effort to free the dog.
    “You just have the one?” Tully asked and Maggie immediately heard his skepticism.
    “She’s probably my best air-scent dog.”
    “It’s just that there’s a lot of ground to cover.” Tully waved his hand to include the fields behind the trees.
    “Working multiple dogs at the same time can present problems. Competition between the dogs. False alerts. Overlapping grids. Believe me, one dog will be more than efficient.” He said it matter of fact without sounding offended or defensive.
    “She seems kinda small.” Tully still wasn’t convinced. He leaned down to take a better look through the window.
    Creed already had the liftgate up and was sorting through his gear. Grace met him at the back but didn’t attempt to leave the vehicle, sitting, wagging, and watching her master instead of paying attention to Maggie or Tully. Maggie got a good look at the dog. She was a Jack Russell terrier, a surprising pick for a tracker.
    “I don’t think size matters,” she said to Tully as she watchedCreed. “Harvey’s twice Grace’s size—maybe three times—and I doubt he’d focus long enough to find his favorite Frisbee if I hid it.”
    Creed didn’t look up as he transferred items from a duffel bag to a small backpack, but she saw his corner-of-the-mouth smile again and she liked that she was able to provoke it.
    “What kind of dog is Harvey?” he asked.
    “Labrador.”
    “You’re right. Size or breed isn’t as important as drive.”
    Tully was standing with his hands on his hips, watching the dog, watching Creed, and doing a poor job of hiding his disappointment. At one point when he caught Maggie’s eyes, he rolled his as if to say, “Not much of an expert.”
    The two men were almost the same height, but that’s where the comparison stopped. Tully was wiry and lanky, dressed in trousers and a button-down shirt, wrinkled but neatly tucked in. Today he wore wire-rimmed glasses, a staple on the road, because he didn’t like packing all “the stuff” that went with his contacts. Tully was a conscientious do-gooder, a corny but romantic everyman whose coffee stains and absentmindedness could easily be forgiven because when he told you he had your back, you could count on it. He did.
    Grace had nudged her way to the open liftgate, still sitting, but now able to lean out. She was sniffing in Maggie’s direction.
    “Are we allowed to pet her?” Maggie asked.
    “Sure. She’s just not allowed to leave the Jeep until I tell her it’s okay.”
    Maggie reached her hand in slowly for the dog to sniff. Then she scratched Grace’s neck, keeping her hand where the dog could still see it. She felt Creed watching her from the corner of his eye. Of course, he had to be protective of his dog.
    Finally finished, he slipped on the backpack. To Maggie hesaid, “Would you mind taking Grace to stretch her legs while I check around?”
    “Sure.”
    And to Tully, “Can you fill me in while I take a look?”
    Tully simply nodded.
    Creed handed Maggie a small, soft, pink elephant. The dog toy was plastic, but squishy and squeaky, and as soon as it came out of Creed’s pocket Grace could barely contain herself. Her entire hindquarter wiggled, excited and impatient, but she still sat waiting for her master’s permission. She watched Creed but also watched as he handed off her toy to Maggie, eyes darting back and forth, wagging, listening, ears perched and haunches ready to run.
    “Toss it around for her, but she might just want to carry it in her mouth. Tap your hand against the side of your leg like this”—and he demonstrated—“if she strays.” Then he looked into Maggie’s eyes and asked, “Is it okay if I call you Maggie?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    But immediately she realized he wasn’t asking for himself. He turned back to Grace and said, “Okay, Grace, go with Maggie.”
    The dog leaped into Creed’s arms—obviously something they did without either of them thinking—and in one fluid motion he swung her to the ground. Immediately all her attention was focused on Maggie and the pink elephant.
    She seemed so playful, so spirited, so ordinary. As Maggie led Grace to the soft grass closer to the house it was hard for her to imagine that this little energetic dog spent a good deal of her time hunting dead people.

CHAPTER 29

    Creed tried to concentrate on what Agent Tully was telling him. As they walked,