“Yes,” said Evan, taking a long look at the upset father. Geoff Jensen had salt-and-pepper hair and lines around his mouth. He looked at least twenty years older than the murdered young woman in the house. Once Rowan started her search, he planned to talk to the man. “There’s a path of child-sized footprints that lead from the back door of the home around to the gate on that side,” he told Rowan as he pointed to a corner of the garage. “Should be a good place to start.” He glanced up and down the street. Some neighbors were in their driveways, watching the scene. “I’m hoping Wyatt is somewhere in the neighborhood. The medical examiner says his mother has been dead less than four hours. I can’t see a five-year-old getting too far away.”
“You’d be surprised at the distance they can cover,” said Rowan. “But if he’s still close by, he’s most likely found a hidey-hole of some sort. All these strangers and police cars could be terrifying and stopping him from coming out.” A shadow crossed her eyes, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.
Evan nodded. She was the expert, and he had full faith in her skills. Beside her, Thor sat at attention, his calm black gaze taking in the activity, his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth. He wore a red harness that said SEARCH AND RESCUE on each side. In the past Rowan had told Evan that when this harness was put on, the dog knew it was time to work.
A commotion pulled their attention. The father had stood and was trying to approach, but the two officers had each grabbed an arm.
“If that dog is going to look for Wyatt, I’m coming too!” Geoff yanked his arm out of an officer’s grip. “I need to search for my boy!”
Evan strode to intercept Geoff and held up a hand. “Don’t interfere with the dog and handler,” he ordered. “They need space to search.”
Geoff’s reddened gaze pleaded with Evan. “I’ve got to look. I can’t just sit here. My son is missing.”
“I know,” said Evan. “But unless you can tell us a spot where you know he would hide, you need to leave the search to us.”
The stricken man looked blankly around the neighborhood. “I have no idea,” he whispered.
“Does he have a friend that lives on your street? A home he’d go to where he’d feel safe?”
“No kids his age around here,” said the father. “We’ve only been here a few months . . . I can’t say that Wyatt would associate a particular home with safety.”
“Then sit tight.” Evan knew his words weren’t helpful. “We’ve got several officers knocking on doors, and someone from the FBI should be here soon.”
“FBI?” Geoff appeared stunned. “They’ll help look?”
“Missing children are an FBI priority.”
“Thank God.” His face crumpled. “Summer is gone. I can’t lose Wyatt too.” An officer gave his arm a gentle tug and led him back to the car.
Evan watched him for a moment and then went back to Rowan. She opened the plastic bag, and Thor plunged his nose inside, inhaling and snorting at the blue pajamas.
The dog clearly knows it’s work time.
“Find it,” Rowan ordered, removing the leash. Thor lifted his head, and his nostrils widened, his mouth opening slightly as he breathed in. He was still for a moment and then turned and led Rowan to the side of the home where the little footprints vanished.
Incredible.
Evan watched the dog circle around in the small bark dust area and stick his nose into the wire of the gate, then spin and trot to the street, where he stopped and sniffed the air again.
Evan stiffened, hoping Thor hadn’t already lost the scent. That could indicate Wyatt had been put in a vehicle. Thor made sweeps, swiftly going back and forth in the street in front of the house. Evan glanced at Rowan, hoping to gain some insight from her expression. Her gaze was locked on the dog. She didn’t look concerned or optimistic. A calmness surrounded her. A deep focus.
The officers and neighbors all watched Thor’s movements, and the dog ignored them, completely intent on his job. Wyatt’s dad stood by the police car, observing, hope in his countenance.
Thor did two more sweeps of the street and then stopped, his muzzle lifting. Then he darted to the house. Evan’s heart sank. Of course the dog would locate Wyatt’s scent in the home. The child lived there. The dog stopped at the closed front door and sat, looking over his shoulder at Rowan as he mouthed a quiet doggy sound.
Rowan frowned. “The house was searched?” she asked, looking from officer to officer.
“Yes,” answered two of them at once.
“Searched for a suspect or a small boy?” she asked.
“Shit,” said one of the officers as they exchanged glances. “I had an adult in mind as I looked.”
“Thor thinks he’s inside,” said Rowan.
“The whole house probably smells like Wyatt,” said the sergeant.
“He can pinpoint the strongest scent, which will be the most recent. I believe at one point he walked along that side of the house and into the street,” said Rowan. “But I’d like to take Thor through the home.”
“Do it,” said Evan. “The front door was open when his mother was discovered. Maybe Wyatt went out the back door and came in the front after the attacker left.” He and Rowan approached the door, and Rowan snapped her leash to Thor’s harness.
“The mother is in the kitchen,” Evan said in a low voice. “It’s not a good sight.”
“Got it,” replied Rowan, opening the door and allowing Thor inside.
Evan followed them into the home after a look back at Geoff. Wyatt’s father was still by the police car, watching them enter. He hadn’t said a word since Thor had started working. An odd prickle went up Evan’s spine.
Something is up with Geoff.
Thor trotted through the house. After a pause and a snort in the direction of the kitchen, he immediately turned down the hallway to the bedrooms. The dog wasn’t the least bit interested in the smell of blood and worse from the murder. Thor was solely focused on Wyatt’s scent.
Amazing.
Thor stopped in the doorway to Wyatt’s room and huffed out two breaths. Then he continued down the hall and trotted into the guest room. He went to the head of the bed and sat, looking up at Rowan, making that soft doggy chatter sound again.
“Good boy.” She scratched his head. “Wyatt?” she asked quietly. “It’s safe to come out now. Nothing is going to hurt you.”
Evan dropped to his knees and looked under the bed just as Rowan did the same.
No one was there.
Silence.
“What the . . . ,” Evan muttered. “Let’s look inside the box spring.” He wanted to slide under the bed to look, but he was too large.
“Wait,” said Rowan. She turned to the nightstand and opened one of its cupboard-style doors. Thor tried to stick his head inside, but she held him back. “Hi, Wyatt,” she said kindly, peering into the dark, low cupboard. “I’m Rowan, and this is Thor. I’m so glad we found you.”
Over Rowan’s shoulder, Evan saw the small boy curled up into the smallest ball possible in the nightstand. Evan wouldn’t have guessed a child could fit inside.
The officers cleared the house for an adult intruder. No one would have looked in there.
Rowan shifted out of the way, and Evan moved to make eye contact with Wyatt. The boy hadn’t moved a muscle, but he met Evan’s gaze.
He’s terrified.
“Hi, Wyatt,” Evan said. “Can you come out?”
The boy didn’t budge.
Rowan and Evan exchanged a glance.
“You’re safe now,” Rowan told him. “You know your mother . . . was hurt, right?”
The tiniest of nods answered her.
“Whoever did it isn’t in the house anymore,” Evan told him. “I’m a police officer, and we’re here to protect you.”
Wyatt somehow made himself smaller.
Scared of the police?
Or . . .
“Wyatt, did you see who hurt your mother?” Evan asked.
Another infinitesimal nod.
“Who was it?” asked Evan. “No one will hurt you with us here.”
Wyatt’s gaze moved to Thor. The dog had lowered himself to his belly a few feet away and focused alert eyes on the boy in the nightstand, his ears cocked in Wyatt’s direction. Rowan sat beside the dog, stroking his back.
Evan had been about to ask Rowan to take Thor out of the room, but Wyatt’s terror seemed to abate a bit as he looked at the dog.
“Who hurt your mom?” Evan asked again.
“Will you put him in jail?” whispered Wyatt, still staring at Thor.
Evan had to bend forward to catch the almost-silent words. “Yes. I promise.”
Wyatt’s numb gaze turned to Evan. “Daddy did it. He pushed her to the floor and made her scream.” He put his hands over his ears and started to cry.
Evan closed his eyes.
I knew it.
3
Three days later