A Bloodhound to Die for (16 page)

I could see the glitter of Jasmine’s eyes in the glow of the flashlight. “In my considered opinion, she has a sound heart.”

How many times have you thought of the old axiom, “If I knew then what I know now, would I have made a different decision?” We can only speculate, but at this moment, I had no idea how many times these past few lines of dialogue would repeat in my memory.

I grinned through my pain. “Take the light and your radio and call Hank from a distance where you can hear his answers. Make sure he doesn’t have projection before you start discussing Miz Beulah’s condition. Also tell him to keep the male heirs from wanting to rush to the rescue. We have enough on our plate without two sons bumbling around out here.”

“Do you want me to set up some candles and get you a dozen aspirin before I make the call?”

“How did you know?”

“I’m psychic. Your face is green and you keep squinting your eyes.”

“Better get EMTs out here first, but thanks.”

She backed out of sight with the light and I sat in the darkness and suffered.

The term
projection
is a code word we use when we call to give bad news to Hank or whoever is receiving at home base during a search. The waiting relatives have a tendency to hover around the radio to listen to what is happening in the field. When Jasmine reached Hank, and if the heirs could hear, he would disconnect, move a safe distance from their hearing, and call Jasmine back. It’s easier to pass on bad news without them hearing details firsthand.

She returned and squatted, leaning near my ear so I would be able to hear her. Miz Beulah wasn’t showing any signs of fatigue or hoarseness. Her current scream was as full-bodied as her first. My heart went out to her in equal amounts of pity and forbearance. All I could
do was hold her hand and periodically wipe her brow. She was perspiring heavily. Screaming is hard work and I couldn’t believe her stamina.

“Hank has to call me back in five. Be just a second.”

She brought me four aspirin, a dry paper towel from her pack, as my bandannas were soaked, and a thin thermal ground sheet that she began to tuck around our patient.

“What’s the game plan?” she asked.

“Can you take both dogs out and guide in the paramedics? I hate to send you without your pack, but I may need something, and everything in mine is soaked.”

“Sure. You know that without asking. I’m in better physical shape and younger than you are. Anything else?”

“Yeah, two things. I need your working radio, and you need to treat your elders better. At this moment, I feel ninety!”

I saw the flash of her white teeth as she raised her arm to her head. I couldn’t hear her laughter or what she was saying to Hank as she was backing away. I hadn’t even heard the shrill chirp of the radio.

She was back beside me in the next couple of minutes, and gave me a waved okay that she had reported to Hank. She lighted four six-inch tapers and stuck them in the mud and peat mixture. She laid four spare candles beside me and two emergency flares and a Ziploc baggie holding matches.

I handed her back the two flares, shaking my head negatively.

“We don’t dare use these. These woods are too dry. They would light up like a tinderbox from an errant spark.”

She packed them back in my backpack and leaned close.

“Anything else you need? I should be heading back. The EMTs will be here soon.”

“Nothing. Take care.” She turned to release Gulliver and Ramona.

“Jasmine!” I yelled. Her head swiveled in my direction.

“If you have an emergency, fire three shots with your thirty-eight. I’ll find you!”

She flashed a grin and waved. I knew what she was picturing in her mind. The sight of me galloping along the trail with a candle in each fist, rushing headlong to her rescue.

What if it rained? A sobering thought. The forecast had been for a sixty-percent chance of scattered showers this afternoon and tonight. Rain could still appear, and if it did, I would have to manage. My back needed a tree to lean against but there wasn’t one close enough. I wanted Miz Beulah to feel my touch and know someone was near.

I edged around until I could prop Jasmine’s backpack behind me and eased my right shoulder on its bulk. I tried to ignore the throbbing in my head, Miz
Beulah’s primal screams, and the stinging blisters on my feet. The weak candles were drawing moths, which circled and dove in their suicide flights to self-destruction. I automatically blew out of the corners of my lips to keep the gnats, mosquitoes, and other assorted stinging insects from gnawing on my face. Because of my preoccupation with my assorted aches and pains, it was a good ten minutes before I remembered that the need to protect the dogs’ noses from aromatic odors was past. I quickly dug into Jasmine’s pack and pulled out the Off. I liberally sprayed Miz Beulah’s hands and my own, then rubbed more Off onto our faces. At least one aggravation was eliminated.

I removed my snake protectors and my wet shoes and placed moleskin pads over my blisters. I donned dry socks but knew that the minute I put my shoes back on, they would get wet and clingy. I sat on another thin thermal plastic sheet and let my feet get the air and remain dry as long as possible.

I sat, hurt and worried about Jasmine with two dogs and no working radio, Miz Beulah’s injuries, and what I was going to do to stop Jimmy Joe’s onslaught on my compound. A person shouldn’t have to deal with more than one stalker in a lifetime. Bubba had filled my quota of sleepless nights. His threats were gone, with only the nightmares of my shooting him remaining. Searching the dark, eerie space surrounding me, I worried about many things.

  
18
“The Rescue”

I
n the still night with virtually no wind, I could hear the EMTs long before I could see their lights. Miz Beulah’s seemingly eternal lament didn’t sound as strident as when she had first begun. Either she was tiring, or the repetition had lulled me into a cocoon of forbearance, or the aspirins were working. Whatever the reason, I was grateful for the result.

Jasmine had guided the EMTs in without Ramona. It was basically only three turns, and she knew them well from trudging them twice, once in and once out. Coming back in must have seemed a snap without a thirty-two-pound backpack and a large dog straining against a lead and threatening to dislocate her shoulder. The medics were carrying two-way radios, medical supplies, and a collapsible stretcher. All she would
have was her .38 special in a holster, a water bottle clipped on her belt, a flashlight with fresh batteries, and another one in her pocket for me.

It was nice to know that the dogs had been watered and fed and were now taking a well-deserved nap in their cages. When we returned, regardless of the hour, Wayne and Donnie Ray would carefully check them for ticks, give them a dry-shampoo brushing, and bed them down in their kennel. I liked to think that they were dreaming about the cheeseburger treat they always received on the way home from a search but I wasn’t sure. The only thing I was positive of was the fact that when we pulled into the well-lighted area that produced such succulent smells, they would be excited and salivating.

I knew why the EMTs were so vocal. This was the routine each time we guided them into this morass. It was the equivalent of whistling in the dark. I have seen grown men whimper when they discovered they were lost, in total darkness, within the confines of this vast primeval swamp. A person who wasn’t afraid and pumped full of adrenaline was stupid. There are too many pitfalls that can cause injury and incapacitation and too many critters that would scuttle away in the daylight but that will turn and charge in the night. After all, this is their territory and the night belongs to them.

I put on my shoes, folded the plastic I had been sitting on, and released Miz Beulah’s hand with a final
pat. I got out of the way, because I knew when they saw their patient they would be consummate professionals and go to her immediately. I also knew that they would shine their bright lights straight into my eyes upon arrival and rob me of my night vision. It never fails. I turned my back and closed my eyes in anticipation.

Jasmine said, “Hi.” She stood quietly, near me.

“Any deterioration in her condition since you found her?” The first EMT voice was crisp and authoritative.

“None that I can see,” I answered pleasantly. “Could you please lower your lights?” I had raised my voice so they could hear me, but as yet hadn’t faced them.

“Oh, sorry.” Both lights were whipped to the ground and found Miz Beulah’s form.

The second voice yelled in wonder, “My God, how long has she been screaming like this? Did you scare her?”

I made the mistake of turning while I answered.

“She’s been screaming steadily for a little over an hour. OH SHIT!”

Second Voice had turned his five-cell brightness flush in my face. I guess he felt he needed to see my lips move to comprehend me. I had squeezed my eyes closed a nanosecond too late. Now all I could see was white circles of brightness and black dots swimming behind closed lids.

“Move your light!” Jasmine yelled.

I had thrown up both hands to help screen my vision,
but I could still discern the light fading when I heard her sharply in-drawn breath and bleat of disgust. I peeked with one eye between my fingers and saw that her face was highlighted with the same bright exposure that had blinded me. I couldn’t help it; it had been a long afternoon. I brayed with laughter. It took several heartbeats before Jasmine joined in.

“Jeez!” the EMT muttered, sounding insulted. “What’s the big deal?”

He finally moved the light back to his patient.

“The big deal,” I explained between giggles, “is that a she bear who obviously has cubs nearby has dropped by once already to protest our proximity to her lair. You have just successfully destroyed our night vision, and as far as I know, we’re the only two with guns!”

The devil made me do it, it’s my only excuse, that and blistered feet, skin chafing in wet clothes, and a head still reverberating with Miz Beulah’s pitiful cries.

“Wha… where … which way did she go?” He was flashing his light madly in a circle, trying to see in all directions.

“Harve, for God’s sake, she’s putting you on!” First Voice yelled sharply. “Steady the light and help me!”

I sobered instantly. “I apologize. That was a rotten thing to do. Very unprofessional, and I’m sorry. Is there anything we can do to help?” I felt bad for kidding at a time like this.

“Just keep the she bear at bay, and we’ll handle the medical procedures,” First Voice pronounced crisply.

He had effectively put me in my place without raising his voice.

After a few minutes, our night vision returned, at least enough for us to help. Jasmine picked up the flickering candles, snuffed them out in the mud, and packed them in the backpack. She handed me the extra flashlight from her hip pocket. I trained it toward their working forms, hovering over them to give them effective coverage.

They had a cervical collar on Miz Beulah and had eased her on a rigid backboard and were carefully sliding her onto the stretcher. Second Voice was spreading a soft wool blanket over her tiny form and I noticed that First Voice started to discard the thin insulated plastic sheet, but had second thoughts. He tucked it over the blanket and they strapped her snugly so she couldn’t move about. Her vocal protest never faltered.

First Voice was taping a small flashlight on the foot-long vertical pole that held the IV drip. They would be able to see that it was working on the trek back.

“Ready to travel if you are.”

“My name is Jo Beth,” I replied, holding out my hand.

“I’m Ron, and this is Harvey, or Harve.” I shook hands with both of them.

“Ron, I had morphine but I was afraid to give her any.”

“I gave her a mild sedative, but not enough to slow her down. I felt the same as you. Let’s get her out of here.”

Jasmine led the way and I brought up the rear. I put
my light on the path so Ron could see and also tried to keep any vines from catching on the stretcher. Jasmine was doing the same for Harvey and herself. It took us a little more than thirty minutes on the trip back and in the last ten minutes of the trip Miz Beulah’s pitiful shrieks dwindled and finally stopped. She was snoring peacefully when they loaded her in the ambulance.

Mr. Hiram thanked Jasmine and me, but the sons and daughter were too busy closing up the house and deciding who Mr. Hiram was going to ride with to the hospital to pay any attention to us.

Hank leaned against the van as we wearily loaded up.

“Can I buy you ladies a late supper?”

“I can’t speak for Jasmine, but I’ve been wet for over two hours. All I want is a hot bath and dry clothes and maybe a slice or two of pizza.”

“I’ll skip the pizza. I’ll settle for a hot bath while sipping a glass of white wine, then bed. I have an early morning search,” Jasmine said.

“We have to stop and get Gulliver and Ramona a cheeseburger,” I said.

Hank looked into my eyes.