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“This dog is a tracker. Just give us some room,” Cameron said, and put the little boy’s cap under Ghost’s nose. “Seek, Ghost! Find!”
Ghost’s ears came up as his nose went to the ground. He began moving in an erratic pattern, back and forth behind the stand, then circling back and moving farther out into an ever-widening circle.
All of a sudden, he whined and took off running with Cameron right behind him holding a death grip on the leash. They ran past the woodcarver’s shop, beyond the blacksmith shop, behind the homemade candy shop, and then back onto the main artery of the plaza.
Aaron and Yancy were running parallel to them, waving people out of their path as they went.
Then Ghost made a quick swerve to the left and began running north through the park area, past the first music venue, through a parking lot, past the second music venue and that parking lot, heading straight toward the creek at the far end of town.
“Oh shit,” Cameron muttered. “The water. Please God, not the water.”
Chapter 11
Wiley Pope was on his way back to Reagan Bullard’s music venue after a late lunch break. The matinee performance would begin at 4:00 p.m., and they’d open the doors for early arrivals at three. Being a security guard was his first step to becoming a police officer. He loved the job. Enjoyed the people he worked for, and took pride in his work. As far as he was concerned, moving to Jubilee had been a godsend for them all. And while he’d never grown up with a fatherly bond, Aaron had always been his touchstone to how a man should be.
He was just pulling into the employee parking area when he saw Cameron and Ghost coming from uptown. They were running like their lives depended on it. And then he saw Aaron and Yancy running in flanking positions with them. When he realized they were headed for the creek, he jumped out of his car and followed.
Aaron was to the far right of Cameron and Ghost when they topped the rise above the creek. Bushes grew inclumps all along the bank, forming a natural boundary, but as he looked down toward the water, he saw a flash of yellow and remembered the yellow T-shirt the little boy was wearing in the picture. He bolted down the creek bank, shouting, “To your right! To your right!” unbuckling his gun and holster as he ran. He dropped it and his phone in mid-step, kicked off his boots, and jumped into the waist-high water a few feet downstream from where he’d seen the flash of yellow.
The water exploded upward and outward as he went in, and within seconds of landing, he saw the child beneath the overhanging bushes, clinging to a lower branch with both hands.
The moment the little boy saw Aaron, the terror in his eyes was replaced with an overwhelming look of relief. But the distraction made the little boy lose focus. He lost his grip and, within a heartbeat, was in the water.
Aaron lunged forward, making a frantic grab for the child, and felt a sharp, burning pain across his forehead from a low-hanging branch. But he caught him before he could go under. Seconds later, the little boy was in Aaron’s arms and so cold to the touch that he couldn’t quit shaking.
“Did you get him?” Cameron shouted.
“Yes! Call an ambulance!” Aaron shouted.
Yancy was running toward them, but still a distance away.
Then Aaron heard a splash and turned to look. His brother Wiley was in the water beside him.
“Give him to me. You crawl out and I’ll hand him up,” Wiley said.
Aaron didn’t hesitate. They both waded a bit downstream to find an opening through the bushes along the bank.
Aaron cupped the little boy’s face for reassurance, then gave him to Wiley.
“He’s deaf. Just hold him tight so he’ll feel safe,” Aaron said, and climbed back up on the bank, then leaned down. The little boy’s arms went up and wrapped around Aaron’s neck as he lifted him out of Wiley’s arms. By then, Yancy was on scene and helped Wiley out of the creek.
They hurried back to where they’d shed their gear and began gathering it up.
“Aaron, I’ve got your stuff,” Wiley said as Aaron started up the rise in his sock feet, moving toward the parking lot with the little boy trembling in his arms.
“Ambulance is on the way,” Cameron said, and they could hear the sirens in the distance.
“Yancy, call the family,” Aaron said. “Let them know he’s been found.”
“Will do,” Yancy said, and made the call.
Randy Cotton answered on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Cotton, this is Officer Yancy. We found your boy. We think he’s okay, but he’s suffering from shock and hypothermia. He’d fallen into the creek and was hanging on to some bushes to keep from being swept downstream.”
“Oh my God! Thank you! Thank you!” he said. “Where do we go to pick him up?”
