Page 11 of Through the Fire
“Good idea,” Theo said quietly as she slid her phone back in her pocket, and she gave him a small smile.
As she unrolled the tape, she kept her eyes open, looking for anything—or anyone—that seemed out of place. Her effort felt futile, though, since debris from the burned house was scattered everywhere. The firefighters’ efforts had created an even bigger mess, and she grimaced as she watched one soaking what was left of an exterior wall. Although she knew the work they were doing was necessary to put out the fire—and keep it out—it was still hard to watch as the crime scene was destroyed.
Rounding the corner of the yard, she wrapped the tape around a convenient small aspen tree and continued along the side of what had been the house. She noted which of the few neighboring homes had a clear line of sight, even as she hoped they weren’t vacant for the winter. Finding a witness didn’t seem too likely, though. The burned house was isolated and on the very edge of town.
Once she could see the backyard, Kit slowed, taking in the scene. If she were the arsonist, she would’ve entered and exited through the back. Except for the house a half block to the east, which looked empty, the backyard was hidden from view. A thick growth of trees bordered the south edge of the yard, providing a potential escape route.
Kit stepped into the trees a few feet before turning east. Most of the snow in the yard had been melted by fire and the firefighters’ spray, but a slushy ridge remained just inside the tree line. As she made her way along the south side of the property, she kept her gaze on the ground, looking for any indication that a potential suspect had made their way into the woods.
Glancing up, she saw that Theo had stopped running tape along his side so that he could have a quiet conversation with Hugh. The sight of their small huddle made her chest twinge. She used to be part of something like that, but now she was the new cop, the interloper, the one not to be trusted. Impatiently yanking herself out of her moment of angst, she refocused on the ground around her as she continued unrolling the tape.
Right before she reached the edge of the property, she saw something in the half-melted snow bordering the tree line. Crouching down, she spotted a crescent-shaped indentation.
“Hey, guys,” she called, pulling out her phone. As Hugh and Theo made their way toward her, she took a picture of the mark in the snow, added a strip of police tape to the shot to give it scale, and then took another photo. “What do you think? Boot heel print?”
The two men squatted to examine it more closely. “Sure looks like it.” Hugh straightened, looking at the ground around the print. “Any others?”
Kit stood and examined the area around the print. “Not that I can see. The yard’s a mess, and there’s not much snow cover in the wooded area. Want me to get Justice and see if he can pick up a trail?”
“Yeah.” Now Theo was taking pictures, although he used an official scale instead of improvising with police tape like she had.
Hugh’s face lit up. “Bring on the tracking dog! This is great. Now we just need an arson dog and a cadaver dog, and we’ll have a dog for any occasion.”
Rubbing the line between his eyebrows, Theo sighed. “Monroe doesn’t need a cadaver dog or an arson dog.”
His gaze moving pointedly from the burned shell of the house where Steve stood guard over the body and back to Theo, Hugh didn’t say a word.
“These past few months have been an anomaly,” Theo said, an annoyed growl underlining his words. “We don’t need specialized K9s for cadavers and arsons. We do need people to quit killing and burning down buildings.”
Hugh gave him a skeptical look. “Well, sure. Less death would be ideal, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. We just got rid of a bomber, and an arsonist pops up. It doesn’t seem like things are getting any less exciting.”
Leaving the two men to their argument, Kit handed Hugh the remaining roll of police tape and headed back to where she’d parked. She pulled out the thirty-foot lead from the dog-supply bag she’d stowed on the floor in the back seat, grateful that she hadn’t packed it in the trailer with the rest of her belongings. It was just luck that she’d tucked the long lead in Justice’s travel bag. She never would’ve guessed that they’d be trailing an arson—and possibly murder—suspect on her first day.
Justice was quivering with excitement when she clipped the lead to his harness and gave him the command to leave the car.
“This way, goofy.” She hauled on the leash, leading him toward the possible footprint in the backyard. His tail whipped back and forth as he trotted in front of her, his head swiveling as he sniffed the air, ready to head in whatever direction had the most interesting scents.
Hugh and Theo were still arguing when Kit and Justice reached them, but they broke off when they saw the dog. Both greeted Justice with thorough ear rubs and neck scratches. In thanks, Justice curled around them, his tail drumming a happy rhythm against their legs.
“I thought bloodhounds were usually reserved with strangers,” Hugh said, massaging the loose skin at Justice’s shoulders.
Kit gave a small shrug. “A lot of them are. Except for his excessive friendliness, Justice is a pretty typical bloodhound. He just doesn’t have the shy gene.” At the sound of his name, he looked at her, his tongue lolling out of his jowly mouth. “Ready, Justice?”
At the familiar words, he focused on her, his brand-new friends forgotten. She indicated the footprint, and he snuffled at it.
“Will that be enough?” Theo asked, frowning.
Without taking her gaze off Justice, Kit lifted her free hand palm up. “We’ll see. Justice, find.”
The dog sniffed the ground, crisscrossing back and forth around the print. As he fanned out, Kit fed him more of the lead until he was fifteen feet away from her, heading deeper into the woods.
“Aaah-rooo!” His bay rang out, signaling that he’d picked up the scent, and Kit grinned.
“Find, Justice!”
The dog took off, and Kit followed, the lead stretching between them. Justice hauled her forward, wanting to run faster, but she kept him under control. In Wisconsin, she’d run almost every day, training herself along with Justice, but here the altitude was an issue. It was over eight thousand feet above sea level in Monroe, and the air felt too dry and thin as she pulled it into her lungs. After just five minutes of following Justice, Kit was already breathing hard. Annoyed by her weakness, she slowed Justice down and settled into an easy jog.
The sound of boots hitting the ground behind her let her know that Theo and Hugh were backing her up, and she felt her spirits lift with adrenaline and hope. This was what she’d trained for, what she loved to do—working with her K9 partner while her fellow cops had her back. The past six months in Wisconsin had been a pale imitation of this. She’d been disillusioned, and the other officers had become suspicious and hostile. She didn’t regret blowing the whistle on her corrupt partner and would’ve done the same thing if she had a do-over, but she’d missed the camaraderie and sense of being in a close-knit team. This new start in Monroe might give her the opportunity to regain the love she had for the job.
