ALSO BY NORA ROBERTS
Honest Illusions
Private Scandals
Hidden Riches
True Betrayals
Montana Sky
Born in Fire
Born in Ice
Born in Shame
Daring to Dream
Holding the Dream
Finding the Dream
Sanctuary
Homeport
Sea Swept
Rising Tides
Inner Harbor
The Reef
River’s End
Jewels of the Sun
Carolina Moon
Tears of the Moon
Heart of the Sea
The Villa
From the Heart
Midnight Bayou
Dance Upon the Air
Heaven and Earth
Face the Fire
Chesapeake Blue
Birthright
Remember When
(WITH J. D. ROBB)
Key of Light
Key of Knowledge
Key of Valor
Northern Lights
Blue Dahlia
Black Rose
Blue Smoke
Red Lily
Angels Fall
Morrigan’s Cross
Dance of the Gods
Valley of Silence
High Noon
Tribute
Black Hills
Vision in White
Bed of Roses
WRITING AS J. D. ROBB
Naked in Death
Glory in Death
Immortal in Death
Rapture in Death
Ceremony in Death
Vengeance in Death
Holiday in Death
Conspiracy in Death
Loyalty in Death
Witness in Death
Judgment in Death
Betrayal in Death
Seduction in Death
Reunion in Death
Purity in Death
Portrait in Death
Imitation in Death
Divided in Death
Visions in Death
Survivor in Death
Origin in Death
Memory in Death
Born in Death
Innocent in Death
Creation in Death
Strangers in Death
Salvation in Death
Promises in Death
Kindred in Death
Fantasy in Death
G. P.PUTNAM’S SONS
Publishers Since 1838
Published by the Penguin Group
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Copyright © 2010 by Nora Roberts
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Roberts, Nora.
The search / Nora Roberts.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-18870-5
1. Young women—Crimes against—Fiction. 2. Serial murderers—Fiction. 3. Attempted murder—Fiction. 4. Dog owners—Fiction. 5. Search and rescue operations—Fiction. 6. Search dogs—Training—Fiction. 7. Orcas Island (Wash.)—Fiction. 1. Title.
PS3568.0243S
813’.54—dc22
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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To
HOMER AND PANCHO,
and all who sweetened my life before them
PART ONE
Properly trained, a man can be a dog’s best friend.
COREY FORD
ONE
O
n a chilly morning in February with a misty rain shuttering the windows, Devin and Rosie Cauldwell made slow, sleepy love. It was day three of their week’s vacation—and month two of their attempt to conceive a second child. Their three-year-old son, Hugh, was the result of a long week-end on Orcas Island in the San Juans and—Rosie was convinced—a rainy afternoon and a bottle of Pinot Noir.
They hoped to repeat their success with a return visit to Orcas, and happily applied themselves to the mission at hand while their toddler slept with his beloved Wubby in the next room.
It was too early in the day for wine, but Rosie took the quiet rain as an omen.
When they were snuggled up together, loose and warm from sex, she smiled.
“Who had the best idea ever?”
Devin gave her ass an easy squeeze. “You did.”
“Hang on, because I just had another one.”
“I think I need a few minutes, first.”
She laughed, rolled and propped herself on his chest to grin at him. “Get your mind off sex, Sleazy.”
“I think I need a few minutes for that, too.”
“Pancakes. We need pancakes. Rainy morning, our cozy little house. Definitely calls for pancakes.”
He squinted at her. “Who’s making them?”
“Let the fates decide.”
She scooted up, and in a long-standing Cauldwell family tradition they let the balance hang on Rock, Paper, Scissors—best two out of three.
“Damn it,” she muttered when he crushed her scissors with his rock.
“Superior skill wins out.”
“My ass. But fair’s fair—and I have to pee anyway.” She bent down to give him a smacking kiss, then jumped out of bed. “I love vacation,” she said as she dashed into the bathroom.
She especially loved this vacation, she thought, with her two handsome men. If the rain kept up, or got heavier, they’d play games inside. But if it let up, maybe they’d strap Hugh in the carrier and take a bike ride, or just go for a long hike.
Hugh just loved it here, loved the birds, the lake, the deer they’d spotted and of course the rabbits—all brothers to his faithful Wubby.
And maybe he’d have a brother of his own in the fall. She was ovulating—not that she was obsessing about getting pregnant. But counting days wasn’t obsessing, she thought as she caught her sleep- and sex-mussed hair back in a band. It was just being self-aware.
She grabbed a sweatshirt and some flannel pants, glanced back at Devin, who’d gone back to snoozing.
She really thought they’d hit the money shot.
Delighted with the idea, she pulled on heavy socks, then glanced at the watch she’d left on the dresser.
“Gosh, it’s after eight. We must’ve worn Hugh out last night for him to sleep this late.”
“Probably the rain,” Devin mumbled.
“Yeah, probably.”
Still, she turned out of their room for his, as she did every morning, at home or away. She moved quietly, content to let him sleep—a bonus if she could grab her first cup of coffee before she heard the first
Mommy
of the day.
She peeked in, expecting to find him curled up with his stuffed bunny. The empty bed didn’t bring panic. He might’ve gotten up to pee, just as she had. He’d gotten so good with his potty training.
Even when she didn’t find him in the little bathroom off the hall, she didn’t panic. Since he was habitually an early riser, they’d encouraged him to play for a bit before waking them. She usually heard him, talking to his toys or running his cars, but she’d been a little distracted having vacation sex.
God, she thought as she started downstairs, what if he’d looked in when they were doing it? No, he’d have walked right in and asked what game they were playing.
With a half laugh, she turned into the pretty living room, expecting to see her little boy on the floor surrounded by the toys of his choice.
When she didn’t, the first fingers of unease tickled up her throat.
She called his name, moving quickly now, sliding a little on the hardwood floors in her socks.
Panic struck, a knife in the belly.
The kitchen door stood wide open.
SHORTLY AFTER NINE, Fiona Bristow pulled up at the pretty vacation house in the heart of Moran State Park. Rain fizzed along the ground more than pattered, but its steadiness promised sloppy tracking. She signaled her partner to stay in the truck, then got out to approach one of the local deputies.
“Davey.”
“Hey, Fee. You got here fast.”
“I didn’t have far to go. The others are on their way. Are we using the house for base camp or do you want us to set up?”
“We’re using it. You’ll want to talk to the parents, but I’ll give you the basics. Hugh Cauldwell, age three, blond and blue. Last seen wearing SpiderMan pajamas.”
Fiona saw his mouth tighten a little. Davey had a boy about the same age as Hugh, and she imagined he had a pair of Spider-Man pj’s, too.
“The mother first noticed he was missing at about eight-fifteen,” Davey continued. “Found the back door open. No visible signs of forced entry or an intruder. The mother alerted the father. They called it in right away, and they ran around, calling for him, looking in the immediate area.”
And tracked up the place, Fiona mused. But who could blame them?
“We did a house-and-grounds search, to make sure he wasn’t just hiding.” Davey turned back to Fiona with rain dripping off the bill of his cap. “He’s not in the house, and his mother says he has his stuffed bunny with him. He sleeps with it, carts it around habitually. We’ve got rangers on the search, McMahon and Matt are out there,” he added, referring to the sheriff and a young deputy.
“McMahon cleared me to call in your unit, and assigned me to base.”
“We’ll set up and get started. I’d like to interview the parents now, if that’s good for you.”
He gestured toward the house. “They’re scared, as you’d expect—and they want to go out and look for him. You might help me talk them down from that.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Thinking of that, she went back to the truck, opened the door for her partner. Peck hopped out and walked with her and Davey to the house.
At Davey’s nod, Fiona crossed to the couple, who rose from their huddle on the couch. The woman clutched a little red fire engine.
“Mr. and Mrs. Cauldwell, I’m Fiona Bristow with Canine Search and Rescue. This is Peck.” She laid a hand on the head of the chocolate Lab. “The rest of my unit’s on the way. We’re going to help look for Hugh.”
“You need to go. You need to go right now. He’s only three.”
“Yes, ma’am. The rest of my unit will be here any minute. It would help us if I get some information first.”