Page 67 of Desperate Creed

“She said she could talk to you over the computer or the phone. A video-chat. Or you could go back to Omaha for a little longer.”

Brodie shook her head, almost too violently as she said, “No, I don’t want to leave home.”

Hannah smiled, again, and this time Brodie furrowed her brow, questioning what she had said that made Hannah smile.

“That’s the second time you called this home.” Hannah squeezed her hand, and Brodie noticed she had eased her grip. “Now, you get some rest. Maybe a little later—only if you’re up for it—your mother brought some home movies. Some good memories. Would you like to watch?”

“With Isaac and Thomas?”

“Of course, but oh Lord, you’ll have to be prepared for them poking fun.”

Hannah stood, and Brodie let go of her hand.

“Get some rest. I’ll fix some special movie treats for all of us to munch.”

Brodie watched her leave. She stroked Kitten. Then suddenly, she remembered the notebook she still had clutched against her chest. She looked at the words. She tore the page out. But instead of crumpling it and throwing it away, Brodie folded it carefully, protecting the words inside the fold. She folded it a second time then hid it clear to the back of the drawer in her nightstand.

49

Just South of Montgomery, Alabama

Creed’s phone dinged, again. He glanced at it and wanted to throw it against a wall. They were heading back to the Jeep. Between sending messages that “failed to be delivered” to Maggie, Creed argued with Jason. The kid wanted Creed to leave him and Scout to continue searching while Creed drove to the restaurant. Scout’s tongue dangled sideways. Both dogs were panting. The humidity was stifling. He wanted to get both dogs inside the Jeep.

“I can’t risk leaving you without some A/C relief for Scout,” Creed said.

He knew he didn’t need to remind Jason that sometimes dogs couldn’t cool off fast enough on their on. Although dogs sweated through their paw pads, panting was their only way to circulate air and cool their bodies. Because scent dogs breathed more rapidly while working a scent, there was a risk of them becoming dehydrated quickly or worse. Within a very short period, an overheated dog could suffer heat stroke causing damage to the brain, heart, liver and nervous system. Creed wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost a dog to heat exhaustion. That was why he’d installed the alarm systems in all their vehicles as an extra precaution. All his handlers carried the supplies necessary for subcutaneous injections in case they needed to rehydrate a dog more quickly.

He knew Jason only meant well. He wanted to make sure no one else was missing. Creed finally convinced him to give one of the firefighters a business card with his and Creed’s phone number. After all, they were only a mile or two from the restaurant. They would come back. But even as Creed promised, he noticed the horizon growing thick and dark with another round of storms.

Now, ready to leave, he tapped one last message to Maggie as he started the Jeep.

“We did see that cell tower down over the interstate,” Jason told him.

“But weren’t you just on the internet?”

Jason pulled out his cell phone. “It was really slow. And I never really connected. Not getting anything now. I’ve got her number in my contacts, I’ll keep trying while you drive.”

Creed punched the address of the restaurant into the GPS. He had a feeling they’d need to try more than one way to get there, and they wouldn’t be able to look up directions or maps. He was relieved when he saw that they really were only three miles away and according to the GPS, they’d be there in less than five minutes.

“I’m sure first responders are there,” Jason said. “The firefighter told me about it—” He glanced at his watch, “Like half an hour ago. Maybe they already got everybody out.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Jason turned the radio on, and the station was broadcasting more weather advisories. He turned up the volume.

“Folks, this is Willis Dean at WALC-TV in Birmingham, Alabama. Please pay attention this afternoon and evening. I know we have some folks who were already hit. Damage reports are coming in, and we’ll get you information as we get it. But folks, as bad as it’s been we can’t let down our guards. There is another line of storms developing.”

Creed’s phone dinged, and Jason punched the radio volume down. Creed handed him his phone while he weaved his way around more downed power lines.

“It’s Hannah,” Jason said. “She wants to know if we’re okay. They’re probably just hearing about the damage.”

Another ding and Creed shot a look of hope.

“Hannah, again. Said Dr. Avelyn and Penelope Clemence are coming up to help. She wants to know what the hotel is where we’re staying. I’ll text her back on mine.”

He handed Creed his phone then started tapping on his own.

“So we must have service if her message got through.”