She studied the cabin for a moment. “If we move off to our right a bit, I ought to be able to see if anyone’s in bed. The curtains are open in the bedroom.”
“By all means,” Gray muttered. “All I see is a dark blob where the cabin is.”
She moved off confidently through the trees. It took her a minute to find a vantage point through the forest to see the cabin again, but she spotted it and reported, “No one’s in bed. Looks like Luke’s not home.”
Gray murmured, “He’s got a big dog. Any sign of him?”
“Nope. There’s no movement at all, and I can’t imagine any dog leaving the food on the kitchen table undisturbed like that. Luke took Fido with him. Want to move in closer?”
“Sure.”
“Too bad we can’t plant a few bugs while we’re inside.”
“I didn’t say we’d go inside!” he exclaimed under his breath.
“What’s the point of getting close if we don’t?” she retorted. “And I saw that eye roll, mister.” She grinned at the startled chagrin that crossed his features. It was good to be able to see in the dark.
She led the way down the hill to the cabin, approaching it using tree cover all the way. Gray touched her arm as they drew near and whispered, “We should check the garage. Make sure his truck’s gone.”
“I see recent tracks in the dirt. It’s gone.”
“Ohh-kay, then.”
“C’mon. The rain barrel on the porch has been moved recently—the ring of dust at its base is disturbed. I bet that’s where the spare key is hidden.” Sure enough, she was right. In short order, she let them into the cabin while Gray muttered his misgivings under his breath. She paused in the doorway and scanned the room.
“What are you doing?” Gray asked. “We know he’s not home.”
“Checking for booby traps, Mr. Impatient.”
Gray subsided behind her.
“All clear.”
He pulled out a flashlight and she slammed her hand over it fast before he could flip it on. “No lights. My eyes are fully dilated right now and you’d injure my retinas. You’ll have to make do in the dark as best you can. Downside of hanging out with me.”
He nodded his understanding and stowed the light. “What do you see, then?”
She frowned. “Actually, I see what could be signs of a struggle. That chair’s at an odd angle from the table. The hand towel lying on the floor was probably pulled off the stove handle and wasn’t hung back up. Fork’s lying halfway across the table from the unfinished plate of food.”
“Those footprints on the back porch. Could those be an intruder coming and going?” Gray asked grimly.
“Find me a pair of Luke’s shoes and I’ll compare the size to the prints on the porch.”
“Good idea.” He left and was back in a minute with a ratty pair of combat boots.
They opened the back door and she stared down at the gray floorboards. “The prints are substantially larger than these boots,” she announced. “Luke had a visitor recently.” She headed down the porch steps to examine the marks more closely. “Oh, wow.”
“What?” Gray was instantly at her back, the heat of his big body close enough for her to feel.
“Drag marks. Two thick, parallel lines. Something heavy was pulled out of there.”
“Like a body dragging its heels?”
“Yup.”
He had a pistol in hand and jumped in front of her so fast she barely saw him move. “Cover your eyes, Sammie Jo. I’m turning on my flashlight.”
She slapped a hand over her face.
“Okay. The light’s off. I need you to come over here,” he announced.
He was crouching a few yards away from her. She joined him and immediately saw what he was looking at. “Do you think that’s blood?” she asked in a hushed voice.
He touched a dark, wet cluster of dead leaves and smelled his fingertips. “It’s blood, all right. Can you pick up anything from here? A trail?”
She walked around slowly, staring at the ground. “There are too many disturbed leaves and sticks. But I’m not seeing any more blood. Maybe someone bled here and then was carried away from this spot?”
“Could be,” he allowed.
She walked in ever wider circles, seeking some clue as to what had happened here. “I only see a few drops of blood near that first bit you found. I’d say someone was punched there. Maybe knocked out. I can’t discern a spatter pattern, and there’s not enough blood for a knife wound or gunshot.”
“Makes sense.” Gray went back into the house to conduct a more thorough search while she continued looking around outside. They’d been at it for maybe ten minutes when she heard something in the woods. And it sounded like it was headed this way.
“Gray,” she called out low. “Bring that gun of yours out here.”
He was by her side in an instant, shoving her behind him. She peered over his shoulder impatiently. She spotted the movement and let out a relieved breath. “It’s a dog.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“That’s why I’m here, Smarty Pants.”
A big yellow Labrador retriever bounded out of the brush a few moments later.
“That’s Luke’s dog,” Gray said. “Take cover. Zimmer may be close behind.” He took her arm, but she stood her ground, staring in horror at the dog.
“Uhh, I don’t think so,” she said thickly. She turned away, retching.
Gray flashed his light at the dog and swore, confirming what she’d seen. The dog’s muzzle and front legs were matted with blood, and he was carrying what looked like a severed human hand in his mouth.
“Here, boy.” He whistled to the dog, who bounced over to them eagerly. Gray grabbed the dog’s collar. “Can you get me a piece of rope or something to leash him?”
She stumbled back to the house and came back with an electric extension cord. Gray had disengaged the hand from the animal’s mouth. It looked badly mauled, and it looked male. “Luke’s?” she choked out.
He shrugged. “Let’s see if we can get Fido to lead us back to the rest of this guy.” He showed the dog the hand and said urgently, “Go get him, boy.”
The dog took off, straining against the makeshift leash. They raced along behind the dog who took off like an arrow through the woods.
The spruce forest had little undergrowth apart from dead, needleless branches that tried to scratch the heck out of her as she barged through them. Were it not for her excellent vision, they’d have succeeded.
The dog whined and Sam strained to see ahead. “There. I see something,” she panted to Gray.
He dragged the dog to a walk, and they approached cautiously.
“No movement,” she reported quietly. She eased forward, taking the lead whether Gray liked it or not. Her vision was simply so much better than his that she had to go first. There. Something roughly human in size and shape lay on a limestone outcrop. She slowed abruptly and Gray slammed into her nearly knocking her off her feet.
“Ooomph,” she grunted as his arms went around her to steady her. Oh, boy. He was as strong as she’d imagined.
“Sorry,” he muttered in her ear.