After a long, tense moment, the sheriff gave a curt nod. His gaze traveled to Free and Jude and their K9 partners before landing on Saskia and me.

“Husky,” I said, answering the question in his eyes. Not a wolf.

“Your children are welcome to join the other searchers,” the sheriff told Cady, “but—”

“My children are less than a year away from being FEMA-certified in search and rescue.” Cady let that sink in. “With all due respect, Brad, the three of them can cover more ground than the rest of your search party combined.”

Chapter 9

When it came to wilderness searches, the first step was to locate and secure the PLS—point last seen. In this case, the rangers had set up a perimeter around the campsite where little Bella had last been seen snuggled down in her sleeping bag. Her family had gone to sleep that night. When they’d woken up the next morning, she was gone.

“It’s different,” Free said, coming up behind me, “when it’s real.”

I didn’t tell her that it was always real for me—every training exercise, every scenario we’d worked our way through back home. For me, searching was always—always—about survival.

“Are we using the sleeping bag to get the girl’s scent?” I asked Cady. “Or is there clothing?”

I needed to move. I needed to do something. I needed to stop standing here, doing nothing.

Cady lifted her hand to get the attention of the closest park ranger, but the ranger’s attention was already occupied. He was talking to a stranger. Tall and broad through the shoulders, the newcomer had long blond hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. The dog by his side was indeterminate in breed, as large for its species as the man was for his.

“Mackinnon Wade.” The sheriff cut across the campsite, his stride bigger with each step. “This is a crime scene, and as familiar as you are with all things criminal, Wade, I’m sorry to inform you that this particular scene is closed.”

All missing-persons cases were treated as criminal, so the sheriff’s use of the phrase crime scene was less concerning than the way he pushed back his shoulders and took a deliberate step into the other man’s space. Aggressive. Male.

I couldn’t have so much as inched forward or backward if I’d tried.

“Mr. Wade is here to help with the search,” one of the rangers informed the sheriff. “He’s military-trained search and rescue, the best in the world.”

“Second best,” Mackinnon Wade corrected the ranger, his eyes locked onto Cady’s.

Jude leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “I believe the implication our very large new friend has just made is that Mom is number one. He’s pleased to see her.” Jude paused. “She is…err…less pleased to see him.”