Darke Heat by Nese Ellyson

and they practically dragged her over to him.
    “Hey, did Paige call you all as well?” Shelby asked the group of men.
    “Shelby, did she call you? When?” Bryce asked.
    “I’d say about fifteen minutes ago. She found a pit bull in a beaver trap. I told her to stay put, and I’d bring the tranquilizer so we could free it,” she explained. “I need to get it out of the truck, if one of you could take the dogs?”
    “She’s missing, Shelby, and it doesn’t look good. I’d say she was the one being trapped,” Bryce explained.
    “Point me in the direction she was looking when you last saw her, Bill,” Bryce said.
    “I can do one better. She said she was at the edge of the lake inside the woods,” Shelby added.
    He didn’t waste any time. He saw that Blake was already calling for back up, so he didn’t hesitate. Bryce grabbed Deeogee’s leash, and took off into the woods.
    “Find Paige,” he said, and the dog took off, headed in the direction Shelby had already told them.
    There was very little path for them to follow, but he could make out where someone had stepped. As he got closer to the edge of the woods, a deer trail opened up, and he could see the lake through the clearing. He followed Deeogee down the path. There, lying on the ground was a button, like the ones on the cotton top Paige had worn that morning. He followed the dog to the waters’ edge, and looked at the ground on both sides of the path. There, to the right, was the mark of a boat of some kind that had been pulled up on the shore. “Good dog,” he said, giving Deeogee a quick pat on the head. “Come on, boy. We need to hurry.” He ran back up to the house where Blake was organizing a search party with the deputies there.
    “Blake, get on the horn and have someone at the boat rental bring over a couple of boats for us to use. I’m going to take Paige’s boat and head off in the direction of the Lockes. I’ll head south. Send the next group north, and then send a group out to the islands. Remember, there are possible pit bulls running wild out here, so take precautions.” He ran down to the dock where Paige’s small motor boat was tied. He hopped in, reached over to grab the dog and hoist him in, then untied the mooring line, started the motor, and took off.
     
     
    Paige slowly woke up, feeling every joint scream as the blood returned to her muscles. She was lying on the ground in the dark, a cloth stuffed in her mouth. She’d never felt so helpless, not even when she’d lived with Sharon and Libby as a teenager. Back then, she’d had the dogs. They’d kept her safe. Now what was she supposed to do?
    Paige lay there, thinking of the other time when men, wishing to do her harm, had chased her into the woods. They had been friends of Libby’s, high on drugs, and looking for a good time. She remembered how terrified she’d been. The wild dog she’d rescued from a trap, and had made a pet of, had come to her rescue. Deeogee, the grand sire of her current dog. The dog had bitten two of the men, and was ready to attack the third, when the man dragged his friends away. The only differences were that she hadn’t been tied up, and she’d had the dog.
    She didn’t have any dogs to come to her rescue this time. She was on her own and it scared her spitless. She could hear her captors discussing Sharon and her being used by their boss. The foggy headache was starting to dim, so she could think. If only the panic wasn’t starting to choke her. She couldn’t afford to lose it. She needed to stay calm—to figure out a way to get out of there.
    As she thought on what possible ways she could get away, she remembered her dog whistle. She needed to get to her dog whistle. With the gag in her mouth, she wouldn’t be able to blow on it, but she could breathe through her nose and maybe get some sound out that her dogs would be able to find. Water would carry the sound. She knew the water was close by the sound of the bullfrogs bellowing.