He took the pillowcase from the kennel post, wadded it into a ball, and held it under the dog’s nose.

“I hope this helps,” he said. “I know that you’re trained to find dead people—but I’m hoping she’s less than dead.”

Trygg sniffed at it for a few seconds, then looked up at Nick as if to say, “Got it.”

Nick walked to the edge of the woods, then turned and looked back. He pointed into the trees and said, “Go find her. If her body’s around here, that’s where it’ll be. Go ahead, girl—take me to her.”

But Trygg rose and trotted down the road a little and stood perfectly still, staring into the distant darkness.

Nick walked to the spot and looked around. Trygg was a cadaver dog, not a search-and-rescue dog—she was trained to detect the telltale odor of blood and bone and decomposing human tissue, but the ground seemed undisturbed and Nick saw no sign of fluid or tissue anywhere around.

“What is it, girl? Is there something here—something I can’t see?”

Nick hooked a finger through the dog’s collar and pulled—Trygg resisted. He tugged harder until the dog reluctantly followed him to the edge of the woods. He led the dog into the trees a little and released her again—she immediately turned and trotted back to the same spot in the clearing, where she again stood staring down the road.

Nick didn’t understand. The dog showed no interest in the woods at all, though that was surely the place anyone in his right mind would have chosen to hide a body. He looked down the road—was there something there? If so, he would have surely passed it on the way up. He walked down the road a little but still saw nothing. He turned to the dog and made a big shrugging gesture with both hands.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “There’s nothing here—at least nothing I can see. What are you trying to tell me?”

Then he remembered something: The “alert” that the dog was trained to perform whenever she detected the presence of remains was to lie down—that was her way of communicating a find. But Trygg was standing, and suddenly Nick understood what the dog was telling him: There’s nothing here. I detect no presence of death.

Nick heaved a sigh of relief. She could still be alive.