Excerpt of Cold Rage by Toni Anderson

Despite the clear sky, forecasters had called for a storm front to move in tomorrow with the possibility of ten inches of fresh snow—probably a good thing for the upcoming fire season, but not so great if you were caught out in the elements.

Chance lapped the water then lifted his head and flicked an ear.

The hairs on Nora's nape rose. “What is it, boy?” 

Her dog's sense of smell and hearing were far superior to hers, and she’d learned to interpret most of his facial quirks after their three years together.

This part of the world was full of predators. Grizzlies, black bears, wolves, coyotes, and cougars. But it was the other top predator that bothered her most. 

Who would she rather meet in the woods?

Give her the damned bear, anytime.

She rested her hand on her bear spray but relaxed a fraction when she heard a faint bark. 

Chance replied with two short woofs. 

They both tilted their heads to listen for a response, but the only sound she could hear was the rustle of wind through the trees and the high-pitched cry of a bald eagle overhead. 

The other dog went silent. 

Chance looked at her, head high, tongue lolling, eager to investigate, but she shook her head. “No.”

The breeze picked up and scraped her cheeks with the sharpness of a razor blade, bringing with it the scent of pine needles and pure, cold, clean air. She shivered, grabbed Chance’s bowl, tossed out what was left of the water, and clipped it back on her pack. 

“Let’s go.”

She was vigilant as they headed down the trail but didn’t see or hear anyone. After another five minutes, they came to a fork in the path. She glanced at the spoor in the mud and snow. 

Chance stood, head and tail held high as he gazed intently along the trail that wound higher up the hillside into the trees, the direction they’d taken at the start of their loop that afternoon.

It was a Tuesday and quiet. She’d seen a young couple and an older gentleman enjoying the good weather earlier, but no one for the past hour or so. A fresh set of footprints overlaid the others on the ground, the edges still crisp. An adult, a child, and a smallish dog. 

It was late to start out on this loop but also possible that the hikers were only going to the lookout and back. She hoped they’d told someone of their plans in case something went wrong. She knew better than most how often people came to grief in the wilderness and would appreciate not being called out in a blizzard. 

Chance continued to stare longingly along the path, scenting the air with his mobile, black nose. 

What did he sense?

She couldn’t see anyone but felt eyes on her. The skin between her shoulder blades contracted on a shiver and then formed goosebumps. She didn’t know if that was her paranoia, her instincts, or the hazy memories from childhood that made her clench her fingers into tight fists. 

Whatever it was, it kept her coming back into the wilderness to face her demons. It was the only way to stop them from eating her alive. 

Her training helped. Her job helped. Most importantly, her dog helped. She took her cues from him. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Chance licked her hand, wagged his tail, and gave her a happy grin. She stroked his head and played with his soft ears. He needed a good brush after today’s walk. 

She turned, and they headed down the trail, only another five minutes to her vehicle. Then a fifteen-minute drive home. She’d heat the stew she’d left out to defrost on the stove and light the fire. Maybe sit on the porch and groom Chance until the food was ready and the cabin was warm. 

Her stomach gurgled in happy anticipation. She couldn’t wait to get home.

As her SUV came into sight, her emergency satellite phone alerted. She checked the screen. A call out.

Damn it.

She set her teeth. She was tired, hungry, and, yes, hungover. 

Didn’t matter. 

Nothing mattered except finding the missing and rescuing those who could be saved.

Chance’s dark liquid eyes gleamed as they met hers. He always knew when there was work to do, even if the satphone didn’t ring. He switched from being a goofball to a professional in the blink of an eye. 

He woofed and jumped into the crate in the back of her Jeep. She gave him another drink of water then fed him so he’d have time to digest before they deployed. Things always took longer than expected in the initial stages of a search, and she didn’t want to risk a twisted gut. 

She climbed into the driver’s seat and glanced at the empty parking lot. Paused. Had she imagined those hikers on the trail? The sound of another dog’s bark? 

Was her mind making things up now? 

But Chance had heard it, too, and she trusted her dog more than she trusted herself.

Could it have been a wolf or a coyote?

Perhaps.

But those footprints…

Could have been from any time that afternoon.

She shook it off. Didn’t matter. 

What mattered was the alert on her phone and the need to respond as quickly as possible. 

She rifled through her purse and found some Tylenol, which she swallowed with a deep drink of water. In the rearview mirror, Chance stared at her expectantly. 

Always ready. 

Always willing. 

She smiled. “Let’s get to work, partner.”