Strange Outfit: An Avery Barks Dog Mystery (Avery Barks Dog Mysteries Book 2)
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Authors: Mary Hiker
STRANGE OUTFIT
An Avery Barks Dog Mystery
By Mary Hiker
Published By:
Awesome Dog
Copyright © 2014
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.
Cover by StunningBookCovers.com
“Hundreds of holes are turning up.”
I stepped out of the comfort of my beloved, dark blue four-wheel drive truck and into a bizarre outdoor scene. Numerous craters of all shapes and sizes spoiled the natural beauty of the vast green pastures laid out in front of me. It looked like nature’s version of Swiss cheese. There was no real pattern to the holes, but there sure were a lot of them.
I walked up the edge of one of the bigger holes and kicked a small rock with my hiking boot. It dropped about six feet down before landing on the bottom, creating a small puff of dust. The edge and sides of the hole looked smooth as if a shovel or some type of machinery had been used to create it.
It was my first visit to this mountain property, having just driven twenty miles through Ridge Gap to check out Rocky’s job offer. The new position training rescued dogs sounded fun, and I sure could use the money that would go along with it. There was just one snag. The only dogs I saw around here were the two I brought with me, riding in the back of the covered bed of my truck.
I first met Rocky at a small town picnic about two hours before, and was immediately struck by his rugged good looks. Sheriff’s Deputy Don Donaldson introduced us, and since Don had also just met Rocky, he thought it was his manly duty to accompany me out to the property. As usual, we brought our dogs along for the drive.
“Even the dirt floor in the old moonshine shed has a hole.” Rocky said, as he lifted his brown ball cap and ran his hands through his hair.
Don, still dressed in his uniform, took off his sunglasses. “It looks like a bunch of bombs exploded out here.” While he originally came along for the ride out of duty, he was now intrigued by the mysterious holes. I figured that was the deputy in him.
Rocky shook his head, “I drove Ben up to Virginia over the weekend for an animal rescue conference, and came back to this.”
Don asked. “Ben?”
“He’s my partner in the animal sanctuary.”
Rocky turned his solid frame toward me, “Avery, I’m ready to start some construction out here, and will need help with the animals as they come in. Your dog is welcome to come along to work if you want. Whatever you can find out about these holes would be nice too.”
“That sounds great!” I forgot to ask how much the job paid before accepting the offer. It didn’t really matter, but I made a mental note to ask him later.
The three of us, five including the dogs, took a quick truck tour of the rest of the 250 acre North Carolina mountain land and made a big loop around the property, bumping over dirt roads that were carved through the wooded land. The excursion ended as we drove back up the main drive and stopped near an older mobile home, set in a small valley surrounded by rolling hills. Large expansive maple trees filled the yard, and sweeping green pastures flowed out to the edge of the woods line.
We sat down and relaxed in some lawn chairs next to a rock fire pit by the home, enjoying each other’s company as we talked the rest of the afternoon away. My golden retriever mix, Chevy and Don’s black lab, Ace had worn themselves out playing and now rested near our chairs in the soft grass.
As the guys talked, my attention gradually turned back to the spectacular view. It was getting late in the summer, and in a few more weeks, the maple leaves would produce stunning fall colors that would take your breath away. I had always loved trees, especially in the fall. I could look at red maples and yellow sugar maples all day long and never tire of it. The colors were one of the reasons fall had always been my favorite season.
As the day wore on, the sun started to lower in the sky. The air cooled a bit and a slight breeze flowed down from the hills.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Don’s dog, Ace, lift his nose in the air. He sat up, stuck his tongue out in the air and curled the tip in. It was the same motion a dog makes to drink water. It was like Ace was trying to drink the air. His tongue quickly slipped out of his mouth and curled back in every few seconds.
I’d witnessed another dog exhibit that behavior only once before, Jet, my cadaver dog who died a few years ago. It was when the trained Border Collie was in the presence of strong cadaver odor, but was not on command to find it. That incident occurred few years before. Jet rode in the front seat of my truck as we approached a body recovery scene. My truck windows were cracked open a few inches as I slowly drove down a dirt road. Jet put his face through the opening, lifted his nose into the slight breeze and did that same licking maneuver. We later found a dead body in the river nearby.
As I watched, Don’s trained cadaver dog now showed the same type of behavior. Deputy Don was one of the volunteer dog handlers on the local Search and Rescue team, and I had spent many hours training both him and his dog Ace for SAR missions.
I jumped straight out of my chair and made a bee line to my truck. As I got out my hip pack filled with water and basic supplies, I motioned for Don to come over. Don slowly rose out of his chair and walked over to my truck as both dogs tagged along.
“What’s going on Avery?” Don asked, as Ace ran in a circle around him.
“Ace picked up some cadaver scent.” I whispered, so only Don could hear me.
“What?” Don looked down at his dog, who now sat at his feet and stared up at him with wide dark eyes.
“Just trust me on this. Get yourself and your dog ready to search.” I was serious.
“Have you lost it, Avery? We haven’t been called out by any authorities and you know how that goes over.” Don wanted to strictly abide by the proper search and rescue procedures.
“OK Don, then let’s do a little ‘training run’ right now. As far as you know, I’ve set up a cadaver training for you right here.” I needed him to get ready.
“As far as I know, you’ve lost your mind.” Don’s deep deputy voice gave away his concern.
“Ha! Now get ready, but don’t tell Rocky what is going on.”
I loaded Chevy into the back of my truck and gave him water and a couple dog cookies. I did not know exactly how long this was going to take, but he would be fine for at least a couple hours.
Don grudgingly got out his SAR pack and prepared his dog to work. Ace immediately sensed what was going on and started pacing in front of Don. The black Labrador was excited and focused, just like an athlete before a big game.
Rocky got out of his chair and walked over, “What are you guys doing?”
I answered, “Just checking something out.”
“Rocky, you stay here and watch the trucks,” Don said, his voice filled with authority. “Where do your land boundaries end?”
Rocky pointed out the basic property line.
“Are there any hazards in this area besides the holes?” Don covered the basic question before searching with his dog.
Rocky warned us about a large nest of wasps in the ground located at the far end of the yard behind the house.
If needed, Don could call in local law enforcement if we crossed over onto someone else’s land. But first, I wanted to see if my hunch was right.
Don got Ace in position and gave the command, “FIND.”
Ace was off across the pasture land like a shot. He circled around the area a few times and then headed out toward the lowest area of the field. Evening was coming and caused air to flow down from the land above us. The scent Ace was looking for flowed with that air, down the hill and into the field. It was the dog’s job to follow the scent back to its source. Ace was so focused on his work, that for him, it was like none of us were even there. In his flow, nothing else even existed except his nose and the scent. He was in a SAR Dog zone.
We followed Ace from a distance and reached the base of the hill where it intersected with the bottom of a natural drainage. He took off uphill and crisscrossed the drainage area as he went. The land formation acted like a giant pitcher that poured scent down the hill. Ace was running toward the source.
“He has something.” Don and I both agreed.
As Don focused intently on his dog, I glanced around us to get a sense of the terrain. I noticed that Rocky started to follow behind us from a distance. Ace was in such hot pursuit of the scent, that I could not stop to demand Rocky to turn around. We just kept pushing forward toward the source of a scent that only the dog could smell.
After he wove across a lightly wooded hilltop, Ace slowed and circled around a dark green object. His nose pointed toward the target as he circled around it, while his leg muscles were still fully tensed as he moved.
When Don approached, Ace looked directly in his eyes with an intent stare, then sat down in a precise cadaver alert position. He was positioned right next to a body that was sprawled out on the ground.
From where I stood, the body looked like a man about thirty years old who wore a strange green outfit. At least it was strange for someone in this part of the country. He looked like an over grown scout or someone on a safari, with a pair of binoculars around his neck. Everything he had on was a dull green color except for his white pith helmet.
I guessed the death may have been recent, since I couldn’t smell much of an odor. It always amazed me how dogs can smell things that a human can’t.
Don shouted, “Good Boy,” and rewarded Ace with a game of tug.
Ace was not motivated by food. He was motivated by the work itself, and the reward for making a find was his favorite toy. It was important for Don to play with him even if there was a deceased individual near-by.
We kept our distance from the body as was common practice. One thing you never want to do is mess up the death scene for the investigators. Don got on his phone and called the local authorities.
I looked up and saw a tree stand about twenty feet above us. Hunters in this part of the country build platforms or little tree houses to sit and wait for deer to come walking by below them. From time to time people have fallen out of these tree stands by accident, or have had a heart attack and dropped. Tree stands contribute to one of the leading causes of death for hunters.
This guy didn’t look like a hunter by any stretch of the imagination, and this tree stand was a lot bigger than most.
Rocky walked up behind us and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the dead body. The blood drained out of his face and his mouth dropped open.
He held his forehead and said weakly, “This has gone too far.”
“Rocky, are you ok?” I had never seen such a strong man go weak in the knees before.
I guess he’s not used to seeing a dead body.
Don stepped over and put his hand on Rocky’s shoulder and said, “Let’s wait over here,” as he led him behind some trees further away from the body. Ace strutted after them and carried his dog toy proudly in his mouth.
Don asked, “Do you know this guy?”
Rocky said, “I didn’t really look at his face.”
“He sure don’t look like a hunter, and I don’t see any guns nearby,” Don mentioned what I was already thinking.
“Unless the gun is still up in the tree stand,” I offered.
“We’ll let the deputies check on that when they get here.” Don was a deputy in our neighboring county and had no jurisdiction over here. Better not to step on anyone’s toes.
“Maybe he was out here bird watching,” Rocky stuttered.
Don replied, “Anything’s possible. That would explain the binoculars. But why the heck would he come out here and trespass on your land to do it?”
I decided to go check on my dog and let Don and Rocky talk.
“I’ll direct the cops up to you guys when they get here,” I said as I headed back down the hill towards my truck.
