Dog Days (9 page)

“This is Raine Stockton,” I told the dispatcher. My voice was a little shaky and I was still breathing hard. “I have an unconscious female on the slope of Hemlock Ridge beneath Scenic Overlook Number 3. She’s badly injured and she’s lost a lot of blood. I need paramedics and a rescue team, and better have an airlift standing by. And,” I added on a last, deep breath, “radio Deputy Smith. I think she can call off her search.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

H
anover County may be a small rural community with no real resources to compare to those of big cities, but our Emergency Rescue Response team is second to none. As soon as I heard the sirens approach the overlook, I set off a flare to pinpoint our location, and rangers were clearing a path to us only minutes after that, with EMTs close behind. When the paramedics were on the scene, the best thing I could do was to get out of the way, so I took the dogs back up the newly cleared trail and walked them the mile or so back to my car.

The ambulance was just pulling away when I parked my car at the overlook, rolled down the windows for the dogs, and hurried over to where Rick was helping a couple of deputies string a police tape barrier across the part of the fence they’d had to take down in order to get the stretcher up the slope. I could see Jolene on the radio in her unit, and a gaggle of tourists lined the other side of the road, craning their necks to see whether or not the excitement was over. Rick looked up when he saw me, and I trotted over to him, panting a little as I unscrewed the top of a water bottle. “How is she?”

He gave a small, grim shake of his head. “Alive. I guess that’s something. They’re going to try to stabilize her at Middle Mercy, and then probably life-flight her to Asheville. Good thing you found her when you did, though. Another few hours of exposure …” Again he shook his head. He added, “You look pretty beat up, yourself. You need some first aid?”

I shook my head and took a long drink from the bottle. “Just part of the job. Anyway, I didn’t find her, Cameo did. And Cisco found Cameo.” Then, because I could see I was confusing him with irrelevant information, I hurried on, “What do you think happened? I don’t see how she could have wandered off the road far enough to fall, even at night. I mean, the fence goes on for almost a quarter of a mile.”

“We think she went over the barrier at the overlook,” one of the deputies volunteered. “There’s a patch of damaged bushes where she might have hit, then continued to fall to where you found her.”

Rick and I looked at each other, the unspoken truth clear between us as it must have been to anyone who took even a casual look at the overlook: The rock wall was topped with an iron fence four feet high to prevent precisely that kind of accident. The only way a person could fall from there was if she deliberately climbed over.

Of course, tourists had been known to do stupider things.

I said, “Do we know who she was?”

“Her name is April Madison,” Jolene said, coming up behind me with notebook in hand. “I need a statement from you, Stockton, and then we can wind this up.”

Rick said, “Thanks for your help, Raine. Give Cisco a biscuit for me.” He turned to go back to work but I barely heard him. I was staring at Jolene.

“Madison?” I repeated. “
April
Madison?”

She gave one of her familiar annoyed frowns and glanced at her notebook. “According to her husband. Why? Does that name mean something to you?”

“But—that’s Cameo’s mom! We were looking for the same person! Well, I mean, you were looking for a person and I was looking for a dog, but … Oh my God.” I pivoted to look back at my SUV where two golden faces, each securely buckled into the backseat, looked out from the open windows. It all made sense now. Cameo had not accidently stumbled upon the injured woman. She had deliberately come back here because she knew where she was. If I were as fanciful as Sonny I might even say she had deliberately tried to lead us—or at least Cisco—here. As a matter of fact …

Jolene interrupted my flying thoughts with an impatient, “Stop babbling and stick to the facts. Do you know this woman or not?”

My phone rang, and I glanced at it quickly. It was Melanie, but this time I really could not take her call. I pocketed the phone and swung back to Jolene.

“The dog,” I returned, equally impatiently. “The stray I took in. I told you about her yesterday, remember? Her microchip has her registered to an April Madison of Highlands, Virginia. Is that the same woman or not?”

She flipped a page in her notebook, her expression suspicious. “That’s right. But the husband didn’t say anything about a dog.”

“But,” I said, frowning as I tried to put together the picture, “I thought you said they were camped at Bottleneck. That’s a good five miles away no matter which route you take. How did she get all the way over here?”

“We’re still trying to determine that.”

I glanced around. “Where is her husband?”

“One of the deputies gave him a ride to the hospital.”

I said, “Well, check with Rick, then. Campers have to register their dogs when they check in. But I’m telling you, this is the same dog.”

Jolene did not bother to hide her skepticism. “So you’re saying the woman went out to walk  her dog, walked five miles across a mountain in the dark, and fell over the barrier?”

I had to be careful here, because I wasn’t entirely sure what I was saying, and the parts I was sure of, I didn’t like. “Well,” I ventured, sounding unconvincing even to myself, “it’s possible, I guess. Maybe her dog got away. She could have climbed over the barrier if she was trying to get to her dog, and then she slipped and fell. The only thing is,” I added thoughtfully, “the dog was picked up early yesterday morning, and she had dried blood all over her coat. Like she had been lying in a puddle of it, maybe all night. Maybe longer.”

I tried not to picture that sweet, loyal dog, racing down the gorge after her fallen mistress, desperately trying to wake her, finally lying down beside her and staying there all night, maybe longer, because she didn’t know what else to do. Finally hunger, or thirst, or maybe the instinctive need to find people because people, in a dog’s world, almost always made things right, had driven her to leave the person she loved. She might even have been trying to find her way back to her own campsite—one RV out of hundreds—when Rick picked her up. I actually had to blink back a sudden sting of tears, but Jolene just stared at me, her face impassive.

“So,” I went on, prompting, “is it possible the timeline is wrong? That April Madison actually fell two days ago and that the blood on her dog’s coat was hers? And why didn’t her husband say anything about their dog being missing as well? And even if you do believe she’s only been missing since last night, don’t you think it’s a little strange that the husband didn’t report it until this morning? If someone I loved went walking in the mountains at night and didn’t come back, I’d be beating down the ranger station door until I got some help.”

She muttered, “Yeah. I did wonder about that.” She flipped her notebook closed and started to walk away. Then she glanced back over her shoulder at me. “Why is it,” she demanded sourly, “that every time I get around you, things get complicated?”

I lifted my shoulders innocently. She tightened her mouth and shifted her gaze upward in a sharp gesture of dismissal, and continued toward her car.

“Hey,” I called after her. “What should I do about the dog?”

Not surprisingly, she did not even turn around.

~*~

It was almost two o’clock when I got back to Dog Daze with Cisco and Cameo in tow. Corny was behind the counter, just hanging up the phone, and when he glanced up I actually saw his face lose color. “Is
that
the dog?” he gasped. His eyes looked like round blue globes behind the magnification of the glasses. “The cream golden?”

I unclipped Cisco’s leash and he immediately raced over to the counter and placed his paws atop it, gazing hopefully at the treat jar I kept there. I kept the leash on Cameo. “Her name is Cameo,” I said. “I’m afraid her owner had a bad fall in the gorge. I’m keeping her until … well, until things are more settled.”

I opened the treat jar and tossed Cisco a peanut butter dog cookie, then offered one to Cameo, who took it from my hand more delicately. After all, they had both earned it.

Corny sat down hard on the stool. “But—but I think I know her!” he stammered. “What I mean is,” he went on quickly, “I think I saw her with her owner, out walking the other day. Oh, no, that poor lady! She fell?”

I said, “Which day? Where did you see them?”

“Well, I guess it was closer to night. Tuesday, just before dusk. I was riding my bike in the national park, they were going the other way. You don’t see many goldens that color outside a dog show, so I noticed.” A look of relief crossed his face. “But at least that wasn’t when she fell. I mean, her husband stopped and picked them up just as I passed.”

“How do you know it was her husband?” I asked. “Had you seen him before?”

He looked confused. “Well, no. But who else would it have been? She seemed to know him, and the dog—Cameo—jumped right in the car.”

“Do you remember what kind of car it was?”

“Not really,” he apologized. “I’m not very good with cars. It was a regular one. Not big. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“What part of the park were you in?” I asked.

Again he looked apologetic. “I wasn’t looking at signs. There was a waterfall not far away, though, and a big campground.”

“Bottleneck?” I suggested.

“Maybe. That sounds right.”

I frowned thoughtfully. If Corny was right, and April Madison had gotten into her husband’s car on Tuesday night, it would certainly explain how she got from Bottleneck to Hemlock Ridge. And if, for whatever reason, she had gotten out there and
then
climbed over the barrier—perhaps chasing Cameo—the time line made much more sense. But her husband must have seen what had happened. Why hadn’t he reported it?

Perhaps for the same reason he’d lied about how long April had been missing.

I said, “Corny, do me a big favor. I have to go back to town. Could you keep an eye on things for me? And maybe get this girl cleaned up a little? She was a real hero today.”

Of course, that left me no choice but to tell Corny the whole story, and I did so as quickly as possible. The fact that it had been his idea to search for Cameo in the place she was originally found seemed to more than make up for the distress he’d felt over learning that the woman he’d last seen healthy and vital was now hanging on to life by a thread. “I can’t believe it,” he kept exclaiming while I capsulated the morning’s adventure for him. “I was right! I can’t believe I was right! You found her just where I said! I was actually right! It’s like a Lassie story,” he went on, rhapsodizing, “only in real life! I mean, Cameo practically led you to her injured owner, and if she hadn’t run away last night you never would have found her—the owner, I mean—so it’s all pretty amazing, isn’t it? I mean, practically a miracle!”

I hated to add fuel to Corny’s dramatic fire, but I had to give credit where credit was due. It had been his idea to search Hemlock Ridge, and if I hadn’t done so, April Madison might not have been found until it was far, far too late. As for Lassie … well, I’m not exactly a fan, since I believe that particular collie set an impossibly high standard for every dog who came after her and made my job—as well as that of other dog trainers around the world—more difficult, but I have to admit, in this case the comparison was justified. Cameo’s devotion, not to mention her uncanny intelligence, had saved her mom’s life. I’ve been in this business for a long time and it’s nice to know I can still be surprised.

I left Corny brushing the burrs out of Cameo’s coat while I ran to the house to shower off the blood and smudges and change into clean clothes. Cisco, who was having one of the best days of his life—having not only made a successful find but been reunited with his best friend—stayed in the grooming room to admire Corny’s work.

There were two messages blinking on my machine as I raced through the kitchen on the way to the shower. Impatiently, I pushed the “play” button. The first one was from Aunt Mart.

“Raine, honey, I know you’re busy, but I wonder if you’d have time to stop by here today or tomorrow before you go down to the fair. I don’t know how, but I got put in charge of the church raffle and I have the quilt we’re raffling off as a prize here. It sure would help me out if you could run it by the booth for me, since you’re going to be there anyway. And don’t forget I’ve got that piece of pie for you. Bye-bye now.” She added, “Oh, and the tomatoes. Don’t forget those! Love you, sweetheart. Bye.”

Family. You’ve got to love them.

The next message was more surprising.

“Miss Stockton, this is Marshall Becker. We met yesterday at the diner. I have some information you might be interested in, if you’d give me a call.”

He left his number, but I didn’t write it down. Seriously, some people. I hurried upstairs to shower and change.

I consider myself a responsible person, I really do. But sometimes it just seems as though I have too much to be responsible for. I still had to set up for tomorrow’s agility class, and I had four pickups this afternoon, not to mention the grooming clients and the day care dogs. But I really needed to talk to April Madison’s husband about Cameo, at the very least to let him know I would be happy to keep his dog as long as he needed me to. Besides, I was curious about what had really happened to April, and I could be sure Jolene wouldn’t bother to keep me informed.