Free Play Fetch: An Avery Barks Dog Mystery (Avery Barks Dog Mysteries Book 3) by Mary Hiker Page B

trampling over the area.
    I made my way to the sign-in table, and looked across the yard at the lost person’s home as I checked in.  A small group of adults sat in lawn chairs out in front of the victim’s home, cooking burgers on a grill and carrying on like they were at a family reunion.  By the number of beer cans scattered on the dead grass around them, it appeared that they had been sitting out there all night. 
    Two women under the influence were judging which of the two over-sized men had the loudest truck, biggest muscles and best military tattoo.  A young man sporting baggy black clothes from head to toe furiously drew pictures of the entire scene in a notebook.  I frowned at them all, thinking it was a blatant disregard for the lost man and the people trying to find him. 
    I fantasized about marching over to command and asking they be removed from the scene, but thought better of it and chose to meet up with the folks from my SAR team instead.  We had a job to do, whether these people cared about finding the victim or not.
    Don walked up to me, dressed in his SAR Dog Handler attire: Dark blue BDU work pants with lots of pockets, a K9 Handler team sweatshirt, navy blue ball cap, a black chest harness that held his radio and a leather dog leash hanging over his shoulder.  He looked pretty well awake, considering he’d been working his dog all night.
    “What have you gotten so far?” I asked.
    “Three dogs have worked, and all of them have ended up across the road behind that small shed over there.” Don lifted his arm and pointed across a field to an old wooden shed that was covered with vines. 
    He continued, “There’s an old beat up truck parked behind it.  The dogs all worked to the front bumper of that truck, then stopped.”
    “Well, it means something.  We just don’t know what that something is, yet.”
    Don nodded his head in agreement.
    “Could someone have driven back there and picked him up?” I asked.
    “Maybe, but I doubt it.  The only people he spends any time with are family, and most of them are sitting over in those chairs.” Don grimaced as he looked over at the old man’s front lawn.
    “Yeah, I noticed the family barbeque,” I said with another frown.  What’s up with that?”
    “Mr. Leeder owns most of the land around here.  He doesn’t have a big bank account, but his land is worth at least four million.  The two big guys over there are his money grubbing sons from Harrison County.  They‘ve been trying to get him to sell off the land, but the old man would have no part of it.  He told them the land would be sold only ‘over his dead body’.”
    I shook my head and muttered.  “Probably what they’re waiting for.
    “They brought their girlfriends over here like they’re on some kind of a date,” Don said with a scowl.
    “That’s really bad,” I said.  I felt sorry for the old man.
    “Let’s focus on finding Mr. Leeder,” Don said, as we walked over to his truck, the smell of grilling burgers lingering in the air. “Then we can work on the who-done-it part.”
    He pulled out a large aerial photo of the search area and spread it across the cold hood of the pick-up.  Don’s SAR dog, Ace, rested in the back seat as we studied the landscape from a bird’s eye view with an aerial photo.
    “Show me the areas you’ve worked so far,” I said.
    Don ran his finger along part of the photograph. “Ace started from the house and caught scent right away.  He worked down this grass road, along this field, then stopped behind the shed like I told you.”
    “What did the other dogs do?” I asked, still focused on the photo in front of me.
    “Two other dogs worked in the wooded areas on the far side of the shed,” he said and used a pen to outline the two sections of woods that had been searched. “Both dogs caught scent in the air and followed it back to the same spot.” 
    “And you looked in the vehicle and shed?” I asked and ignored his