Ten Little Bloodhounds (6 page)

“There’s the possibility that she was kidnapped, or catnapped, to be more accurate. Do you have any enemies, someone who might want to get even with you for anything?”

I was proud of myself in keeping a straight face while I delivered these words. I bet her enemies were legion.

“Impossible,” she snapped angrily.

“Nothing is impossible,” I paraphrased. “Some are just more improbable than others.”

“You misunderstood my answer,” she said, sounding
superior and omniscient. “I have more enemies than a third world nation. That’s why I have remained on this island for the past twenty years without once leaving it. I have two round-the-clock motor patrol boats three miles out, making constant surveillance of all watercraft, using both radar and sonar. The coastline was checked during the night for any boat that was rented or moored within two hundred miles in either direction. The overlook flight film didn’t produce a single boat near this island for the last twenty-four hours.
That was why I stated it was impossible!
”

Good God, she must have both Army and Naval Intelligence in her pocket. Was it possible that the overlook flight she mentioned was actually our “Spy in the Sky” satellite, or our national weather satellite’s orbit over this area? Hell, it might be both, or maybe she was afflicted with megalomania, with delusions of grandeur.

“Uh-huh,” I muttered, keeping skepticism out of my voice. “I’ll need something that Amelia touched, a sleeping pad cover or something she played with, to use as a scent article.”

“Anything else?”

“No, ma’am.”

She picked up the phone.

“Celia, come up and show Ms. Sidden out. Give her the bag you prepared of Amelia’s things.”

“Just remember, I have only a slim chance of finding her. This dog was not trained for cat recovery, and has been in retirement for four years.”

“You must have a reason for using this particular dog. I understand you have fifty-nine adult dogs in
your kennel at the present time, not counting your pet, Bobby Lee.”

I gawked at her. I noted the malicious pleasure on her face. My head whirled in shock. The only way that she could know the actual head count at the kennel was from one of my employees who worked inside the compound. The number of dogs fluctuated—sometimes daily—but never remained the same for longer than a week. How many dogs we had currently wasn’t posted on the sign outside my business or inside.

The only reason I’m aware of the exact count myself and knew she was correct was that Wayne had shipped Simply Simon to his new home in Hainesville this morning. The transfer of ownership papers was lying on my desk while I was totaling out September. I had entered the sale in the computer.

“Did I make any mistakes in closing out September this morning?”

I knew she had violated my computer. The only people who would have this information lived within the compound with me. Wayne, Jasmine, and Donnie Ray. I’d trust them with my life.

“How can you be certain it wasn’t one of your staff?”

“Some people have loyal friends. I have many. How about you?”

She only smirked. I was at the door when she decided to speak.

“I met your father once, almost twenty years ago. I recognized he was a genius with oils and I invested in his paintings.”

She’s baiting you!
my mind cautioned.
Don’t you dare ask; and if you have to ask, for God’s sake, don’t beg!

“Do you … still have them?” At this moment, my heart had control over my mind.

“We’ll discuss them,” she commented slyly, “if and when you return with Amelia.”

I opened the door, pulled Ivanhoe clear, and slammed the door with all my might.

When I turned, Celia stood frozen ten feet down the hall.

“What happened?” she whispered, looking terrified.

“Why are you whispering?” I yelled angrily. “How can you stand to be around that bitch? Get me out of this maze, and give me the damn cat’s scent articles, before I shoot somebody!”

She scurried in front of me, trotting to keep ahead of my long stride. I followed her blindly, choking on my anger. When we reached the stairs, I passed her at a fast clip and stopped only when I was standing in front of my gear, which had been placed against the wall in the entranceway. I popped a Diet Coke, took a long swallow to ease my dry throat, and looked around for Rand. I sat on my ice chest and started taking off my shoes. Celia approached timidly, holding a paper bag. She seemed worried.

“Are you going to search for Amelia?”

“Of course, that’s what I came to do.” I was calming down, somewhat.

“Rand,” I yelled, “front and center!”

I had both legs in my rescue suit when he came out of a door to my right and looked at me with apprehension. I glanced at my watch before I stuck my arms in the sleeves. It was hard to believe it was only 3:30, and I had spent only fifteen minutes in the witch’s presence.
It had seemed a lot longer. I shrugged the suit over my shoulders, and zipped it closed. It was neon yellow with large white letters denoting
SEARCH AND RESCUE
on the front and
DUNSTON COUNTY SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT
on the back.

“Nice suit,” Rand offered.

“It’s made of lightweight Kevlar. It’s briar-proof, fang-proof, and almost but not quite bulletproof.”

I was putting my shoes back on.

“Don’t shoot anyone you run into out there. All the servants that are not on duty are scouring the brush hoping to find Amelia on their own. They think they will receive a generous reward.”

“
El Grande Bastardo
will probably fire them for not finding Amelia sooner.”

Rand smiled. “They’re Filipinos, not Spanish, if that was what you were trying to imitate.”

“Whatever,” I snapped.

“I gather the meeting didn’t go well?”

“I’m proud of myself. I fought a good clean fight. I didn’t kick or scream or draw my gun.”

“I was hoping that you two would hit it off.”

“Hit would have been a good choice. I didn’t do that, either.” I looked hard at him. “Are you going to be here when I return?”

“The clan is all gathering to console their aunt. If you’re out more than two hours, I will be. Two have already landed at JAX. I expect the other two within the hour. I’ll fly over and pick them up.”

I glanced at Celia. The news that her cousins were to arrive soon didn’t make her happy. She looked troubled.

“Do they give you a hard time too?” I asked her.

Rand spoke quickly. “Don’t worry, Celia, I’ll keep them occupied so they won’t give you a hard time.”

As she looked at him, her face softened. I thought,
Well, well, she really likes him. Okay,
I corrected, as she continued to gaze at him,
she really, really likes him.
I couldn’t read Rand’s face. His expression was a closed book.

I was loading my pockets and checking my backpack. I had attached Ivanhoe’s lead to my belt. He wanted to explore the premises.

“I’ll have your luggage taken up, and have the maid unpack for you. You’ll be tired when you get back.”

“Thanks, Celia, but don’t you dare touch my things. I wouldn’t spend a night under this roof for a million bucks! Rand is going to fly me home when I finish. I’m going to give this search to near first dark, then I’m coming in and Rand will take me home. Isn’t that right, Rand?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“I just remembered. You don’t have telephones out here. How did you know the clan was gathering and needed to be picked up?”

“We have a radio hookup in Fernandina Beach. They relay all long-distance calls in and out. Our radio can also reach Camden County. It’s where we do our local shopping.”

I pulled out my radio and arched my brows in question.

“Sorry, won’t work. The closest signal tower is a good forty miles on the far side of the Camden County Sheriff’s Department.”

“That means I have no means to communicate. Don’t worry if I don’t show up tonight. If I’m not back two hours after sunrise, come looking for me in your bird. I have signal flares I will use if I can hear you. If I’m unconscious, you’ll have to find me the hard way.”

“If I have to look, I’ll find you,” Rand assured me.

“I’m counting on it.”

I drained my Diet Coke, and they wished me luck.

Outside, I knelt beside Ivanhoe.

“Well, partner, we’re both cherries on this adventure. You’ve never had a successful search for a human, and I’ve never searched for a cat. We’re evenly matched, so maybe we’ll get lucky. Let’s give it a try.”

I
spent the first hour circling the house and constantly pulling Ivanhoe back on track because he wanted to return to the house, where the scent of Amelia was the strongest. I gently tugged on the leash to suggest he go left instead of right. I was walking the perimeter in a clockwise rotation.

After two circles, I moved out another three hundred yards, and tried to work counterclockwise. Not once did he go right. He kept trying to return to the house.

I stopped and presented the bedraggled hairy gray mouse that I was told was her favorite toy. The mouse no longer squeaked. It looked as if it had not been treated kindly, and had had a very bad year.

“Find the kitty, here, kitty, kitty!” I whispered with excitement into Ivanhoe’s ear, for the hundredth time. Bloodhounds pick up the handler’s emotion. If you act
bored, they will copy you in no time, losing their enthusiasm for the search. I was trying to use the same words I shouted out the back door when Rudy had taken a powder.

“Here, kitty, kitty, here, kitty, kitty!” Ivanhoe perked up, raised his head, and pawed playfully at my leg, trying to get me to jump at him, or run away. I sighed, and again pulled out the disreputable mouse. My back was already throbbing. Stooping with a thirty-pound pack on your back every three to five minutes can make you wish you hadn’t, after a couple of hours.

“Let’s find Amelia,” I sang in a high squeaky voice. “Ivanhoe is a good dog! Find Amelia!” I took a couple of shuffling steps sideways, looking foolish, I’m sure. He sprang along with me, and poked his nose in the air with pure joy.

I put my hands on my hips and stretched. When I switched my attention back to Superdog, he began pulling on the lead, nose held high, and his loose wrinkles on his high narrow head quivering in intense concentration. He changed from dancing clown to a dedicated trailer in less than fifteen seconds.

I wasn’t positive, however, about the object of his search. His head should be down near the ground. I gave him plenty of room to maneuver by feeding out slack on the long lead and letting him pull me for a change. He picked up his speed and was clearly excited. I wasn’t.

Amelia would stand about a foot tall. To trail her, his nose should be active near the ground, his long ears funneling the smell from below to his nose. His huge ears were flopping with each step, but they didn’t look
like they were doing much scooping. If he was trailing a mother coon carrying supper back to her brood in a large nest high in a cypress tree, I was going to inform him he was now permanently in full retirement. Damn, it could also be a wildcat or bobcat. If he ran one of those guys to ground, he could get scratched eyes and a lacerated muzzle. It also could easily be a black bear on the prowl for honey. If this was what he was chasing, I hoped the bear was in good shape and could outrun him. ’Course, they usually sleep during the day and hunt at night.

We were traveling through waist-high grass, briar-berry bushes, and cattails, already turning a deep brown. Plenty of titi and palmetto shrubs. Small yellow leaves were clinging to my gloves where we had brushed against vines that slowed our progress.

“Hey, big guy, halt! Halt!” Ivanhoe finally slowed, turning back to me looking impatient. “Just give me thirty seconds to catch my breath. Jeez!” My rescue suit was breezeproof. Air couldn’t circulate inside and I was sweating buckets. I could feel it trickling down my torso and running down my legs. I’d be soaking wet when I pulled off my suit. I was also wheezing like an asthmatic. The seven months I had refrained from smoking still hadn’t cleared my lungs.

I looked back to see how far we had come from the house. I could see a sliver of roof and the top of a double chimney. The grade of the land was beginning to slope upward. It would make it harder for me to run and breathe at the same time. My head snapped around when I heard a large animal crashing through dry brush. It was about five, or maybe a tad later. Our scent
on the air had probably spooked a couple of deer. I took another deep breath as Ivanhoe and I stared toward the east, where the cracking foliage had been trampled in a wild flight to avoid us. They were more frightened of us than we were of them.

My breath slowed and I reluctantly let Ivanhoe start the search, and labored on another fifty feet of ground that continued to present a steeper climb. I let Ivanhoe half-pull me to the top of the small cliff. The ground was turning white in spots, and I thought I saw small patches of sea oats on the next dune, which was slightly higher than ours was. We were a good two miles from the water.

Perhaps a small inlet had been formed by erosion and drifting sand. The house was less than a mile away, I had seen it just a short time ago, and I remembered it was located almost exactly in the center of the island. I should have waited for Rand to fetch his map, but my anger made me impetuous and drove me to leave prematurely. I had no fear of getting lost. Ivanhoe could lead me back to the house in minutes. I wondered what four-legged creature he was trailing. I knew for certain that he wasn’t mantrailing: He had never accomplished a successful find.

As we walked closer to the open area, I noticed that the leaves and small vines had been swept neatly against the trees and shrubs, leaving an almost circular area clear of debris. The air currents must rotate up here more fiercely than in the lower areas.

Ivanhoe had his head up, testing the light breeze. Since his head was already tilted upward, I had no warning when his huge jaws opened and he let forth a
loud joyous bay of success. My heart leaped into my throat. He was celebrating that he was near his target. Bloodhounds run mute. They only bay when they know they have located the origin of the scent they’re seeking.