Payback (The Canine Handler Book 1) (2 page)

A soft hum interrupted the solitude. It was Thursday morning and Sarah was caught somewhere between dreams and reality. She had left the communication center around 0800 hours after finishing third shift. Once arriving home and taking care of Gunner and Sam, she fell into a deep sleep on the living room couch.

Something was pulling her from her slumber. It interrupted her fitful dreams. She was tired, fatigued. It felt like she had just drifted off. Lately, nightmares of the past had reawakened in her dreams. Things she hadn’t thought of in years resurfaced and she didn’t understand exactly why. Horrible things. Things she wanted to forget.

Could it be her job and some of the awful situations she handled? Many dealt with domestics, abuse, and violenc
e—
high pressure situations. Could one of her more stressful calls have triggered the deep, dark memories to come beckoning? Sarah had tried to push her past behind her, but it was always just a breath away. Sometimes a physical scar brought back memories like dirty open wounds, savage and raw.

She didn’t want to dwell on it at the moment, and pushed it from her mind. There were other more pressing matters to contend with.

She shifted slightly, and her two faithful German Shepherds heard her stir. They were soon up from where they had been sleeping near her on the cool, hardwood floor. The dogs were by Sarah’s side in an instant.

They whined and stretched, looking to Sarah with great anticipation. Gunner, the larger of the two, laid his bulky sable head on the edge of the couch, close enough to let his cold, wet nose rest against the back of her bare arm.

“Gunner!” she spat out, reacting to the surprise of his chilly nose against her bare skin. Gunner sat back on his haunches and looked at her with his best impression of “What’d I do?” She was used to her dogs
pushing
her to move or play, to do anything with them. Both dogs were always on and ready to go.

The annoying humming continued. Finally, Sarah pulled herself from the comfortable confines of the worn sofa and realized her phone was vibrating on the table. She had switched the ringtone off when she had gotten home from work.

Without getting up, she grabbed the phone. Glancing at the screen, she didn’t recognize the number as she tapped the talk button.

“Hello,” she answered in a groggy, irritated voice.

In response, the caller stated, “Oh hey, Sarah, this is Trooper Dave Graves.” She knew right away who it was. He was with the Pennsylvania State Police, liaison for the York County Communication Center.

For hell’s sake
, Sarah thought to herself. She had only been home from work a few hours.
Was there already something wrong at the communication center?

Sarah bolted upright to a sitting position, “Oh, hey Trooper Graves, is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m hoping you, or at least your dogs can help.”

She knew the trooper professionally. They had attended a few emergency preparedness classes together and chatted, but they were really only acquaintances until a few weeks ago.

Dave had recently been accepted intothe canine division. The state outfitted him with a black and tan bloodhound to use for tracking suspects. He had come from a non-dog background, though. He had a lot to lear
n—
not only about scenting, but about dog behavior as well.

He had always been friendly, asking her questions about her German Shepherds, the scent work they did and how her job was going at the 911 center. Dave had made her work station a daily stop on his way out each evening as she headed in for third shift. He peppered her with questions concerning scent training and working canines. He seemed to hold her opinions in more regard than others who also showed interest. Sarah looked forward to their conversations.

Still trying to clear her sluggish head, Sarah apologetically asked him to repeat himself. She grabbed a notepad and pen from the coffee table drawer.

“Sure, we’re available. What do you need?”

“Well, we’re not quite sure yet. Possible missing person’s case.”

“Possible? Either you’re missing or you’re not,” Sarah grinned to herself.

“Well, yeah, I know,” Dave slowly replied. It was as if he was trying to concentrate on his wording. “A hiker spotted an empty boat early this morning out at Lake Marburg. Boat was caught up along the dam, halfway across the lake with the electric motor still running.”

I wonder how long one of those motors will run,
Sarah thought.
Maybe something to inquire into.
Her boat experience was limited and she didn’t have a great deal of knowledge when it came to their mechanics.

“Do you know who the boat belongs to? Has a cursory inland search been done?” Sarah continued.

“Park rangers are still trying to identify the vehicles in the parking lot with empty boat trailers and are working on finding out who owns the boat. Rangers have also visually checked along the shorelines without success. It’s been a few hours since it was found and no one has come to claim it. Right now we have a few agencies responding… local dive team and a small ground-pounder unit. We’d like to get your team out there as well. They’re certified for water search, right?”

Sarah cringed at the mention of the local dive team. She recalled that they had been difficult to network with from earlier experience.
Pretentious bastard,
Sarah thought as she remembered her encounter with the dive team’s commander. Not a thought she wanted to convey to Dave at the moment.

“Oh yeah, both of my dogs are certified for water recovery as well as a few other handlers and canines on my team.” She watched her dogs stretch and yawn continuously as though trying to defuse a tense situation. They watched her from the corners of their eyes. Their behavior perplexed her, but she put it off, thinking they were feeding off her energy. “What’s base camp’s coordinates?” Sarah asked.

Dave read off the coordinates and Sarah copied them down along with a few additional notes in her waterproof notepad.

“Can I also get a contact number for you and base camp? Once I find out how many team members are available and their ETA, I’ll call you back.” Dave gave her his cell number as well as that of the lieutenant managing the search.

“Great, Sarah, really appreciate it. Looking forward to hearing back from you soon.”

Sarah ended the call. Her mind raced with thoughts of all that needed to be done. Her pulse quickened and her anxiety level pushed higher.

Stop it. Just chill out
, she told herself. One deep breath, and Sarah began to make mental notes. First off, she texted her teammates to see who was available. She typed in the code for the deployment, and the search type.

Once Sarah sent the call-out, she began to get herself and her dogs, Gunner and Sam ready. Most of her equipment was already loaded in the truck, so there wouldn’t be much to prepare. Most first responders kept their supplies ready and waiting in their vehicles. Right now, she needed to wait on responses from her team.

The reality of it all started to dawn on her. This was the first time she had personally responded to an agency request for the team. Although she had been on numerous past searches in a supporting role, she had never actually deployed with her own dogs. Newly certified, they had only recently passed all of their evaluations.

But we train like we’d been deployed
, she thought. She took a deep breath trying to control her excitement and nerves. A lot will be riding on this call-out.

First things first
, she thought. She’d only had a couple hours of sleep.
Coffee. Strong coffee.
She filled the brewer to the top with water, doubled up on the grounds and flipped the switch.

The dogs picked up on her heightened anxiety. You could see the energy radiate from Gunner and Sam. The more boisterous of the two German Shepherds, Gunner ran laps between Sarah and the front door. Sliding to a stop, he almost knocked her over. Sam pretty much glued himself to Sarah’s side and wouldn’t take his attention off her.

“Settle!” she yelled. They both looked at her numbly. “How do you guys even know what’s going on?” It was like they could read her mind.

Both Gunner and Sam were search and rescue canines skilled in the art of air-scenting to locate lost people. The public normally referred to them as sniffer dogs. They were certified in wilderness and urban settings to search for live humans. Both dogs were also certified in recovery, or as some handlers classified it, human remains detection. And this past summer they had passed their evaluations in water recovery.

The dogs were obsessed with their noses and scenting. Anything and everything was fair game, even when they were not training or working. At times, it could be embarrassing where they would stick their noses. No place, no area, nothing was off-limits or private that didn’t deserve a good sniff.

Sarah thought it might be best to load the dogs in the truck prior to changing into her search uniform. She herded both dogs out the front door.

“Truck,” she commanded and they ran to the vehicle and stopped at the tailgate. “Wait.” The dogs stood and watched Sarah as she made her way to the back of the truck. Dropping the tailgate, she told both dogs to “hup” and they responded by jumping into the bed of the truck. Two extra-large dog traveling crates were secured just inside the truck bed. The dogs patiently waited while Sarah opened the crate doors. Giving the cue, “Crate,” each dog went into his respective crate. She locked and secured the doors behind them.

“You guys are awesome,” she lavished them with praise. Leaving the tailgate and hatch of the truck cap open to allow cool air to circulate, Sarah turned and headed back inside the house.

“Okay, my turn,” she said out loud, and headed down the short hallway. No pictures or decorations of any sort hung on the walls. The dark wood paneling dated her home. The lack of décor expressed the frugal minimalist in her. No reminders, no pictures of the past, no sentiment of days gone by. The only item that hung on any wall was an unframed mirror above a small table at the end of the hall.

Sarah went to the closet where her team uniform hung. Her phone started to ping with responses from teammates as she pulled her official issued team shirt and BDUs—military type trousers—off the hangers. She would wait to hear from everyone before she called Dave back.

It was the responsibility of each team member to send a return text stating whether they were available or not. They were all civilian volunteers. Never expected to show up to every search or call-out, they still needed to respond regardless. It wouldn’t be much longer since most of the team had already sent their reply. As in the past, when she had acted as the dispatcher for her commander for a call-out, it was only a matter of minutes.

The smell of coffee circulated throughout the house. Sarah pulled two travel mugs from her cabinet, and filled one for now and one for later. She liked to be prepared and preferred her own stout homebrew over the usual watered-down crap that was normally offered at a search.

Stepping outside her kitchen door into the breezeway, Sarah covered herself with bug repellent. She stood for a moment to let the spray dry. Gunner and Sam excitedly barked in their crates. She laughed thinking how eager they were to be going out to work.

“Chill out, guys! We’ll be heading out soon!” she yelled to the two impatient dogs.

They didn’t know the difference between training and actually being deployed on a real search, she contemplated. To them it was all the same. It was a game. They used their noses to locate humans and in return, they got to play enthusiastically with their favorite toy and their handler. What could be better to a couple of extremely high play-driven dogs?

Checking her phone again, she went through the responses on the screen. Texts had come in from everyone. The team commander, as well as two other canine handlers were available and could respond to the search within half an hour. She sent all three a text with an ETA of 1100 hours and the base camp address.

Finding Dave’s number, she dialed. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hey Dave, Sarah here.” She could hear the commotion of base camp in the background ratcheting up her anxiety another notch.

“What can you provide for us?” Dave asked.

“We can supply five dogs. They can provide shoreline search as well as work off boats. ETA of 1100 hours for all handlers except me—I can be there in 15 minutes.”

“Great, we really appreciate it, Sarah. See you soon.”

Sarah tied a red bandana around her head in a tri-fold and secured it in the back. It helped to keep her feral curls in place. Next she pulled on her team-issued ball cap with logo and unit number embroidered across the front. She checked herself in the hall mirror. Her hat helped hold her hair in place. Copper-colored curls pulled back, name tag in place, shirt tucked in, she headed out the door.

The reality and excitement of the search hit her.
This is really happening
, she thought
. I hope I’m prepared and ready for this
.
I know the dogs are.
And then the intense adrenaline kicked in.