Page 74 of Chasing Creed

Creed did, and his breakfast began to knot in his stomach. “It’s Brodie’s special place.”

He slid back down and started examining the ground more closely. “Someone was here watching her. Did you see him?”

Sully shook his head. “No. But we heard him. Gunner and me walk along here sometimes, but we avoid her meadow. This morning Gunner’s nose was going wild. Smelled something that didn’t belong. Maybe it was this guy. Or his cigarettes. The dog wouldn’t let it go. Took me up here. I think Brodie and Hank maybe heard him, too.”

“Did she say she heard someone?”

“She did, but she thought it was us. I didn’t want to scare her, so I didn’t tell her what we found. We hung around and made sure she got back safely. I don’t think she noticed us, but I’m sure Hank did. Anyway, I thought I should tell you. Should I have told her?”

“No, you’re right, I don’t want her to be scared. And maybe it’s just someone from the park. A worker. Could be nothing.” Except he knew it was something. “I’ll talk to her.”

And Sully knew, too. He pulled out his pocketknife and flipped open the blade. Then he bent down and stabbed one of the cigarette butts through the filter. He held it up.

“You see that?”

There appeared to be a small round gel bubble embedded in the filter. Creed had never been a smoker. It had been a long time since he had even hung around any smokers.

“Is it a menthol capsule?” he guessed.

“The U.S. only allows menthol-flavored capsule cigarettes.” Sully brought it up to his nose then held it closer for Creed to do the same.

“It smells sweet. Is that orange?”

Sully pointed down to the others. “Orange, blueberry. I think I found one that might even be watermelon. You crush the capsule and you get that flavor when you inhale. My wife would have loved these. She enjoyed a cigarette and coffee after dessert. I might still have her with me if she didn’t enjoy it so much.”

“So, what are you telling me, Sully? We have a trespasser who likes trendy cigarettes?”

“The U.S. doesn’t allow these flavored ones. You can’t buy them anywhere in the States. But the cigarette companies sell tons of these in Latin America. The kids call them click cigarettes. All kinds of flavors. Kids mostly like them. Probably that’s the whole point of it.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Unfortunately, not all who are homeless in the United States are from the United States. Months ago, I bummed a cigarette from a kid from Chile. Good kid, but it only reminded me how much I hate smoking. It tasted like blueberry fluff.”

“You’re saying whoever was watching Brodie might be from South America?”

“Not necessarily. Maybe he just travels back and forth there. Whoever this fella is, he’s spent a bit of time here this morning. You mentioned that mess up in Mississippi. That maybe the property has something to do with drugs. Like maybe drugs being brought over the border.” Sully pulled the brim of his hat down as he watched Creed’s face. “Anyway, it was strange enough that me and Gunner stuck around until Brodie and Hank headed back.”

“I really appreciate that.”

“She’s a good kid. Been through a lot. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

It was Creed’s turn to stare. This was a man who insisted on being left alone, and yet, here he was already looking out for Creed’s family.

“Want us to hang around out here?” Sully asked. “See if we can catch him? Gunner’s got his scent now.”

“No, not just yet. Let me do some thinking.” Creed absolutely didn’t want either Sully or Gunner getting hurt. Of course, he didn’t dare tell the man that. In his mind, Sully believed he was still a warrior capable of taking on the villains of the world. “Thanks for showing me this.”

Creed’s eyes began scanning overhead in the large, widespread branches as if looking for answers. He felt his jaw clench with a combination of anger and urgency.

Was it possible that this intruder was connected to the Mississippi crime scene?

50

Creed waited until he couldn’t see or hear Sully any longer on the path. He told Sully he’d meet up with him later for kennel chores. Sully gave him a knowing look and nodded.

Brodie knew this area well, but she’d promised him she wouldn’t stray too far beyond it. His overprotectiveness annoyed her. He could never relate to what she'd been through. But he'd never shared with her what it felt like to spend years searching and wondering whether she was dead or alive.

His mom took him out of school, dragged him from state to state, driven by tips and hunches and sightings, all in the hopes they would find her. He’d enlisted in the Marines to escape. It was probably the best and worst thing he’d ever done. It was the Marines who taught him how to be a K9 handler. He’d built his entire business on the premise that he would continue to search, if no longer for his sister, perhaps for her remains. And in the meantime, help others look for their loved ones.