Brenda Mott - The Sheriff Of Sage Bend

Dismounting, she handed her reins to her mother. “Will you wait here? Hold Ranger for me, Mom?”

Paige nodded. Her anxious expression told Miranda she was afraid of what the dog might find. Which was precisely why Miranda wanted to go without her.

Lucas left the buckskin’s reins dangling. “He won’t go anywhere as long as the other horses stay put, Paige. You’ll be all right by yourself?” He gave Miranda a pointed look.

“I’m going,” she reiterated.

“All right.”

“It’s okay—go,” Paige said. But she looked scared, and the bags beneath her eyes told Miranda she’d cried herself to sleep last night. Paige rarely cried.

Determined to find her sister, one way or another, Miranda climbed.

“We need to keep back out of Kyle’s way,” Lucas said.

“I understand.”

“Now you can see what I was trying to tell you yesterday,” he said. “That Shannon could’ve gone in any direction.”

Miranda’s face warmed with resentment. “I realize that. But I told you. I had to try to find her.”

“We will.”

They continued to climb, the going impossibly steep for a long stretch, the ground too hard-packed and rocky to see footprints. Then Blackhawk and Kyle angled off on a game trail that took a less perilous route. They wound through brush and rock, steadily climbing before dropping down again toward a gully.

“I hope this dog knows what he’s doing,” Miranda muttered. Below, Paige and the horses had become dots in the distance, then disappeared.

“He’s the best,” Lucas said. He paused to catch his breath, forcing Miranda to halt as well, then continued on.

Twenty minutes later, they heard the sound of moving water. Up ahead a wide stream pooled into a small lake. If Shannon had somehow managed to cross the water, would Blackhawk be able to pick up her trail on the other side? The stream definitely wasn’t small enough to jump. So how would Shannon have crossed it, if she were injured?

Unless she hadn’t been on her own.

Miranda swallowed hard, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Briefly, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to calm down.

The brush grew thicker, and Blackhawk and Kyle disappeared into the midst of it. Lucas hurried to catch up, Miranda on his heels. A staccato bark, followed by a triumphant shout, reached their ears as they burst from the cover and came out on the stream bank.

Kyle stooped to praise and pet his dog, rewarding him with a ball on a rope. “Good boy, Blackhawk! Atta boy.”

“What?” Miranda asked. “What did he find?” She didn’t see anything on the rocky creek bed. Then Kyle pointed out a bit of color at the edge of the water.

“There,” he said.

She gasped. A faded, teal-blue scrunchie. The one Shannon had used to pull her hair into a ponytail yesterday before she rode away.

“That’s Shannon’s,” Miranda said, bending to reach for it.

“Don’t touch it,” Lucas said sharply. From his shirt pocket, he took out a digital camera and began to snap pictures, then extracted a plastic evidence bag from his denim jacket. Using a pen, he lifted the scrunchie and put it in the bag.

“She was here,” Miranda said unnecessarily.

“She must’ve crossed the water,” Lucas said, staring at the rapidly flowing stream. “Can you pick up her trail on the other side, Kyle?”

“I can sure try.” Kyle studied the area, as did Lucas and Miranda.

“We need to find a better place to cross,” Lucas said. “The water’s too fast here.” He frowned. “Are you sure the trail stops dead right here?”

Kyle nodded. “Blackhawk would’ve gone on if it followed the bank.”

“All right, then,” Lucas said, his jaw set. “We’ll just find a place to cross. But we need to mark this area.” He took off his denim jacket, unloaded the pockets and tied it to a sapling near the water’s edge. Then he gathered some rocks, with Miranda’s and Kyle’s help, and at the base of the tree made a pile that could be seen for some distance. “That ought to do.” He pocketed the evidence bag. “Let’s go.”

The three of them set out along the creek bank, picking their way through brush and rock. It was a good while before they found a possible place to cross, where the water was shallow and enough exposed rock and gravel provided a makeshift footbridge to the other side. Blackhawk splashed on in, not seeming to mind getting wet, and Miranda studied the dog to see if he picked up anything. Had Shannon found this crossing and used it? Or had she gone through the water at another spot?

Trying not to despair at the enormity of the task ahead, Miranda watched Kyle once again take Shannon’s T-shirt from the bag Paige had given him, and wave it under Blackhawk’s nose. The shepherd sniffed it and then, at Kyle’s instruction, began searching the ground.

They headed back the direction they’d come, keeping an eye out for the sapling Lucas had marked with his jacket. If Shannon had emerged from the stream at any point near where she’d dropped her hair tie, they ought to be able to find her trail. But though Kyle worked Blackhawk up one side and down the other, the shepherd came up empty.

“Why the hell isn’t he finding her scent?” Miranda closed her eyes. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Understandable,” Kyle said.

“I appreciate your help,” Miranda added. She knew Kyle would do anything in his power to find her sister.

He halted, frowning. “Maybe we ought to search around the lake.

“Keep your eye out for tracks,” Lucas said unnecessarily as they headed downstream. But though they walked the entire perimeter of the lake, they didn’t see any human footprints. And Blackhawk still picked up nothing.

After an hour, they stopped to rest.

Kyle looked as frustrated as Miranda felt. “I’m sorry, Miranda,” he said. “I don’t understand this. Unless your sister came out of the water at a place we haven’t covered yet.”

“I don’t see how that could be,” Lucas said, taking off his hat to wipe sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. “We’ve gone about as far in both directions as a person could expect to walk.”

Miranda dropped onto a fallen log, feeling more helpless than she ever had in her life. She folded her arms to keep from shaking. “She’d never wander off this far willingly. My God, she could be in the hands of a rapist…a killer.” Miranda met Lucas’s gaze. “I know Lonnie Masterson’s in jail, but what about a copycat…?” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Copycat killer.

Lucas wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “Hey. Calm down, Miranda. This is a positive lead. We found her hair tie, and we’re going to find her.”

“Positive?” She pulled away from him. “How can you say that? The only thing I’m positive about is that some maniac has kidnapped my sister.” Unable to stop the tears, she angrily wiped them away. “Damn it! Why? Why Shannon? Lucas, what has happened to my sister?”

“I don’t know,” he said darkly. “But I’m damn sure going to find out. Let’s head back to the horses.”

“DID YOU FIND ANYTHING, Sheriff Blaylock?”

“Mrs. Ward, is it true there were blood and claw marks on your daughter’s horse?”

“Back off!” Miranda thumped her heels against Ranger’s sides, plowing through the group of reporters circling her mom like a pack of wolves. Cameramen and journalists scattered.

“Hey, that’s expensive equipment, lady!” A tall, skinny guy reached for his zoom lens, which had fallen in the dirt.

“And this is private property.” Miranda stared him down.

“Clear out,” Lucas said above the hubbub of the crowd.