“I’m good.” This was far from the most difficult terrain she’d covered.
Following Willow, they made their way upward until they’d reached the top of a ridgeline. The island below unfolded before them, woods thicker in some places than others, so many variations of green almost overwhelming Elsie’s eyes in their vibrancy. This spot provided a lookout of the entire island.
One of the most common decisions people made was to get to a good vantage point where they could see. Up here, Elsie felt organized, committed to her plan.
Had Noelle then gotten lost after she’d been here, or had someone intercepted her?
“Where would she be now?” she whispered aloud.
“What was that?” Wyatt asked.
Elsie shook her head. “If someone took her, where would they have gone? Are they even still on the island?”
Thinking like a lost person was one thing; it was an integral part of her job. But thinking like a criminal... She wasn’t used to that.
“It would depend on why she was taken,” Wyatt pointed out.
“All right, Willow. I’m flying blind here.” She bent down to her dog, who came forward to meet her. Rubbing the soft fur of her face, Elsie leaned forward until her forehead was resting on her dog’s head, both of them sitting in stillness. Refocusing.
“You’ve got this, right?” she whispered.
Willow seemed to nudge her, that deep, inexplicable understanding that some dogs had with their owners.
“What’s the plan?” Wyatt asked her as she stood.
She shook her head slowly, took a deep breath. “This is Willow’s time to shine. She’s got it, I’m sure she does.”
FOURTEEN
As Elsie and Willow walked back and forth along the ridgeline, Wyatt followed them. This didn’t make a lot of sense to him, wandering in a way that felt aimless, but he trusted Elsie.
And she seemed certain that Noelle had been up here at one point. Because she suspected it or because the dog smelled her? He wasn’t sure.
She seemed now to be searching for the scent. It was fun to watch the excitement on Elsie’s face as she worked in tandem with her dog, weaving in and out of trees, into bushes, all around.
There was no doubt she was determined, approaching this search with a new fire that Wyatt admired and found extremely attractive. She didn’t quit, ever. She was heart and perseverance in a small package. He’d underestimated her once, he knew. But he was trying not to do that anymore. The fact that she was so capable was one of the things he admired about her.
“Wyatt!”
He turned quickly. So lost in his thoughts she’d gotten behind him. His chest pounded with his heartbeat.
But no, she was right there and she was smiling. Nothing bad had happened.
“She’s got it! She’s got the scent again.” Another grin, wide across her whole face, and she motioned for him to follow.
Seeing her now, he could imagine how she’d survived here as a toddler. Where some people might wander through the woods, Elsie was part of the woods. She didn’t seem daunted by obstacles or roots in the trail. She swung around trees almost as fast as Willow darted around them. He was out of breath keeping up, and he wasn’t in bad shape.
They wound down the ridge into a valley in the heart of the island, the vegetation growing thicker here in the shade. Devil’s club, with its intimidating spikes on the stem, seemed to grow all over, and Wyatt did his best to avoid the broad leaves, which would make a person itch something terrible if he managed to brush against them.
It was cooler in the shade, and the entire atmosphere felt so different from at the top of the ridge. Up there he’d been able to see, and he’d caught a bit of Elsie’s excitement.
Down here amid the overwhelming growth of the shadowy forest, he felt a sense of discomfort.
Just a small one. He looked at Willow. The dog showed no evidence of noticing anything was wrong. He must be imagining it.
Wyatt glanced behind him, quickly so that he didn’t lose sight of Elsie in front of him for long. No sign of anyone.
Writing it off as paranoia, he kept going, following them down the narrow pathway and around a corner.
He almost ran straight into Elsie, who had stopped.
“She’s here.”
He looked around. “Alive?”
Elsie didn’t answer.
“Elsie?”
“I don’t know. Willow... I don’t know.”
He had no idea what that meant, how alerts worked. Was there a difference in the alert for a living person versus a dead one? Willow was patiently sitting, looking back at Elsie with confidence in her face, near an especially thick stand of devil’s club.
“I’ll go.” He moved forward, but Elsie put out a hand to stop him.
“No. This is my search, my dog.”
“But you’re taking an unnecessary risk. You don’t know she’s the person under there.”
