Payback (The Canine Handler Book 1)

by Hillegas, Maria

  Dave and Bella crossed to the sidewalk. They passed empty picnic tables and benches. He stopped for a minute to allow the bloodhound to check out a scent she found interesting. He looked up toward the few offices with their lights on. Graying concrete and faded dark glass reflected back. Dave thought the building was ugly. It stood out like a sore thumb now that other businesses had moved next door and built new, modern structures. Updates and renovations were soon forthcoming, but it would still be the same old tired building within.

  “Come on, Bella. Let’shead upstairs and get some work finished up.”They entered the building after Dave swiped his badge and pressed his thumb to the reader.

  The duo stepped off the elevator at the third floor. They headed to the far end where several troopers shared a small office space. There were a few other officers milling about on third shift. They loved seeing Bella, and a few bent down to pat her on the head.

  “See you have a lovely date for this Friday evening,” one of the other troopers harassed him.

  “At least she listens well, doesn’t cost me much and I can put her in her crate when I get tired of her,” Dave spouted back with a smile. “And she thinks I’m the greatest man alive. Make that the greatest human alive.”

  Dave unhooked Bella, giving her freedom to roam the area unsupervised. She would go visit with the other officers to see if they had any treats first. Then she would take her time sniffing around the rest of the floor for a bit, eventually tire of it and come back and lay down under the desk. She liked to be close to her handler. Dave thought she just didn’t want to be left behind or left out. Bella liked to be in the middle of whatever was going on. She was social and liked the limelight.

  Dave turned the desk lights on and started up the computer. It took the screen a few minutes to warm up and display the sign-on prompt. He pulled his paperwork from the day out of his backpack and laid it on the desk. Grabbing a steno pad from the shelf above the desk, he flipped through it until he came to a patch of blank pages. He planned to jot down notes, some mental reservations he had and queries regarding the murdered subjects. There were many unanswered questions as per the usual in a murder investigation. It was more than that. Things just didn’t add up. Maybe it was gut instinct. Dave felt like the answers were on the tip of his tongue, just out of reach. He needed time to do some investigating and mull over the events.

  Entering his employee code and page after page of difficult to remember passwords, Dave gained access to several databases within the state’s and the nation’s systems. Having a high security clearance allowed him into the FBI’s CODIS system where suspects’ DNA was recorded. He would work on checking DNA records at another time. He was unsure if their DNA testing had even been completed or entered yet. He moved on to police incident reports he needed to finish. There were other research items he planned to do first. His intention was to start building a file on both subjects from the Codorus Park murders.

  There were gnawing suspicions he couldn’t push out of his head. The harder he focused on ridding himself of them, the stronger they came back to nag him. They were more than a gut feeling. He knew he shouldn’t discount the thoughts. There was something in the back of his mind. Like a faint warning signal that told him to tread lightly and watch his back.

  Dave brought up the correct form online and began to fill out his paperwork and official police reports. He wanted to have a clean, fully typed report as well as his handwritten ones to turn in to the other agencies. These typed reports would look more professional and much easier to read than his scribbles. He wanted to make sure everything was done as correctly as possible. Dave had a wariness, almost a foreboding that this case would be big—and possibly be followed nationally. Nothing like this had ever happened in his unpretentious jurisdiction. Serial killings were always a big news topic no matter where they happened. If in fact these murders are related. The mutilation of the second body would also add sensationalism to the coverage.

  As he continued to work particulars of the most recent discovery from the day, he brought up the Department of Motor Vehicle site. He entered the second victim’s name—Dwight Harrison—and several details popped up on his screen. He was able to view a history of past motor vehicle violations as well as links to other branches of the court system.

  There were several pages of information regarding the victim. Dave decided to print it out so he could read it when he wasn’t so tired. He could scan through it tomorrow in his SUV while working the day shift in between calls. He accessed the district court systems and found several more pages of court cases, past and present, for the subject and printed them off as well. Dave rubbed his eyes. He checked the time on his phone. It was getting late and he was still scheduled on first shift for a few more days. It was time to finish up and head home. He shoved all the paperwork back in his pack once again.

  Bella was snoring on the floor beside him. She twitched and jerked as she dreamed. “No worries hunh,Bella?”he said softly as he watched her. She never shifted, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. “I wish I could relax that easy.” He smiled at her. Just watching the dog seemed to take away any anxiety or worries.

  Signing off the computer he called to Bella. “Hey, girl. Time to go home.” She just lifted her head and looked at him. Her tail lightly beat the old tiled floor. Standing up, Dave enticed her by picking up her leash and pulling a dog treat from his pocket. Bella took her time, shifting over to her other side. She rolled around on her back for a moment and then stood up and slowly walked over to Dave. She was in no hurry. It was all on Bella’s clock now.

  Dave gave her the treat and a quick scratch behind the ears. He leashed her up, grabbed his backpack and turned off the desk lights. He talked to her as they headed down the hall to the elevator. “So far this weekend has been an exciting one, hunh, Bella? I wonder what tomorrow will bring. Never a dull moment on our beat.”

  He thought about all the reports he had pulled on both victims. They brought up more questions than answers. The DMV report not only gave recent and current information on a subject, it also gave past history such as all recorded addresses based on driver’s license and renewal information. The murdered subject from the woods shared the drowned subject’s address—and showed he had been a foster child for most of his life. That piqued his interest. Dave knew Sarah had come from a foster care background. He didn’t know the specifics—it was not something she discussed. She never really discusses anything about her past, or her life in general, he realized.

  The database also showed each person’s license picture, enabling the viewer to see a photographic progression. He had decided to enter Sarah’s name. It was a gut feeling, more than a hunch.

  Dave hadn’t actually want to find anything, but got more than he bargained for.

  As he and Bella walked to the car, Dave pondered the results from the computer inquiry. It had retrieved information dating back several years. At first he had scanned quickly, but details popped that demanded to be taken in slowly. Obsessively, compulsively, he had devoured the remainder of the data, struggling to make sense of it.

  What he saw left him reeling. Dave hoped it could be explained away. He decided to give Sarah the opportunity first to explain everything before he would add anything to his report.

  But there better be a damned good reason.

  Chapter 31

  Sarah

  Sarah had slept in. It was much later than the hour she normally rose. Late morning sun streaked across her hardwood floors. Dust danced and shimmered in the tiny bands of light. She woke slowly. Curled up in a fetal position, she faced the wall beside her bed. Rolling over to confront the day, she was surprised to find the dogs across the room from her, sleeping in their dog beds. Not in their normal place on the cool hardwood beside her. They’re not even up bothering me for breakfast. Odd, she thought.

  Sarah groaned in a loud manner and stretched her tight, sore limbs. She felt every step of the previous day’s wilderness sear
ch in the deep tissue of her muscle. From her shoulders to her calves, all the way down to the soles of her feet, her body was sore.

  When Gunner and Sam heard their handler stir, they raised their heads to look in her direction, but never left their position coiled up in their beds. Sam whined and laid his head back down but continued to watch Sarah. Gunner thumped his tail in a slow, steady rhythm as he waited to see what his handler’s plans entailed. There was an air of unbalance, distrust that could be felt and seen in the dogs’ eyes as they studied Sarah’s movements. She looked at them, puzzled. Maybe they’re just tired from all the search work over the past few days. I know I am. Maybe they’re a little sore as well.

  “Hey guys, what’s up? Finally decided to sleep in your beds for once?” Sarah spoke to the dogs as she sat up. Gunner got up first and made his way to Sarah. Sam followed Gunner’s actions. This was his normal MO, as Sam was the more tentative and sensitive animal. Gunner was bolder, forward and blunt; he liked to face his challenges head on.

  The dogs seemed to be testing the waters to see what kind of mood Sarah was in this morning. They both stretched a few times and yawned. Sarah could read her dogs and this behavior bothered her. They seemed unsettled, unsure. We’re all tired; maybe I’m just over-analyzing the situation. Overreacting, she thought.

  Sarah stood up. Gunner leaned against her legs and she bent down to pet him. She also reached out to Sam and he came just close enough for her to touch him, allowing her to scratch his neck. This seemed to release the tension in the air, at least a little. The dogs did not lift their heads to her, but kept them low, only turning their eyes up to meet hers. Their tails were low as well, wagging in a slow fashion.

  Sarah shoved her feet into her slippers and grabbed her robe. Sam and Gunner jumped up, softly nipping at her nose and then turned to run down the hall in front of her, play biting at each other. “No!” Sarah yelled loud to correct them for their bold move. It was if they were releasing nervous energy. That was out of character for both of them.

  “Settle, guys,” Sarah called as she plodded behind them through the kitchen to the back door. “Wait.” The dogs sat in a calm manner and waited for Sarah. Once the door was open, Sarah commanded, “Free,” and both dogs took off through the opening and down the steps. They raced to different trees and lifted their legs as they lifted their noses to catch any scents wafting through the yard. Guys! Sarah laughed as she rolled her eyes.

  She left the kitchen door open to allow the breeze to come through the stale house. Her screen door was old. It showed its age, rotting and in disrepair. The mesh had small holes where it had begun to dry rot and the dogs had banged into it numerous times with their snouts and paws making additional tears and gaps. She looked at the door and knew that she needed to attend to it soon. Ha! Guess I need to put that on my honey-do list. Sarah smiled sarcastically at the thought of having a honey-do list when it was really a Sarah-do list.

  Turning to the cabinets above the counter, she opened the door to pull her coffee carafe out. “Hunh?” It wasn’t where she normally stored it. That’s weird. She started opening other cabinets until she made the discovery and found the carafe stuffed in her pantry between cereal boxes and pastas. I really must be tired. Puzzled, she was lost as to why she would have stored the carafe in her pantry, but brushed it off as being overly tired.

  Sarah placed the container on the coffee maker and set about making her stiff and strong brew. She knew she needed something stronger than usual to clear her clouded mind, more than coffee alone. She opened the cabinet above the stove and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. Twisting the cap off, she poured two gel caps onto the countertop then put the medicine back on the shelf. Sarah washed the pills down with a glass of water. She thought the medication would help her sore limbs and perhaps her mental focus as well. Torn in two. Always in conflict, she thought as she tried to figure out what needed to get done that day. She unconsciously rubbed a small scar behind her left elbow as she stared into space.

  The dogs had finished and returned to the back door. They whined and padded back and forth until she opened the screen to let them in. They stood in the kitchen looking at her and continued to whine. Oh yeah, breakfast! Sarah wasn’t firing on all cylinders this morning. Geez! Why am I so tired? It’s not like I didn’t sleep several hours last night and this morning. She pulled the dogs’ bowls from their crates in the dining room and returned to the kitchen to make their breakfast. Once finished she put the bowls back in their crates and the dogs ran in behind their food bowls. Sarah locked them in while they ate. “There you go, guys, enjoy.”

  With coffee brewing, and the dogs taken care of, she returned to the kitchen to figure out what to make for breakfast. She pulled eggs, bacon and biscuits from the refrigerator and set to work making a hearty breakfast. When her plate was ready, Sarah grabbed an extra-large mug of coffee and sat down at her dining table by the crated dogs.

  Gunner and Sam lifted their noses to identify what was on her plate, but continued to be quieter than usual. She fired up her PC so she could check email as she ate. Oh crap, she reached into the pocket of her robe to find her phone. She had been up for almost an hour and just realized she hadn’t checked messages or texts. I guess it can wait for now. I’ll look for it after I eat. No big deal, I can come first for once.

  After Sarah cleared her plate, washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, she released Gunner and Sam from their crates. They still seemed subdued for unknown reasons. Sarah was a little put off regarding their quiet moods. She still thought they were just tired from two days of back to back search work. “Whatsamatter, guys?” Sarah sat down in the middle of the floor to check the puncture wound on Gunner’s paw. It looked clean and he didn’t respond as if in pain when she pushed around the small hole in his pad. She started to scratch Gunner’s neck and he laid down for her to rub his belly.

  Sam inched over so she could pet and love on him as well. He looked at her intently, licking her chin in a slow, thick manner like a mother dog would lick her puppy to reassure him after a life lesson of hard knocks. “Why are you so serious?” Sarah asked the dog. He kept his ears a little lower and turned back as she spoke to him. A submissive gesture some people would think, but Sarah read it as tentative and worried. I wonder what’s on his mind? What I wouldn’t give to know what goes on inside their little brains.

  “Okay, time to get something done,” Sarah told the dogs as she dragged her tired body from the floor. She had errands to run and bills to pay. Her breakfast, strong coffee and ibuprofen were beginning to kick in and give her a little energy boost. Sarah found her phone where she’d left it, sitting on the table by the front door. The phone was dead, its battery spent. She set it in the charging station for the moment and would check it later. It would be nice to hear from Dave, but the only person she really cared about missing a call from was Kellee.

  Kellee knew Sarah wouldn’t be available today to train or for any call-outs. Sarah had told her before they left the wilderness search last night that she and the dogs needed a rest day so she would be out of service, or OOS as her team called it, on Saturday so she and the dogs could catch up on some sleep and recoup from back to back stressful searches.

  Sarah grabbed clothes from her room and headed to the bathroom to change, brush her teeth and put on her hair. She could feel scrapes and nicks on her arms. She wanted to apply antibiotic cream. She attributed the scratches to the sticker bushes her search team had to trudge through during the search yesterday. She didn’t remember seeing those scratches last night when she had taken her shower before bed. But she had been on autopilot and didn’t remember much about the previous evening.

  The dogs didn’t follow. They stayed in the dining area stretched out on the large throw rug under the table. They must really be tuckered out from the last few days, she contemplated, trying not to worry about their behavior anymore.

  Sarah brushed her teeth then dropped her robe on the floor. She started to examine her
skin for splinters, cuts and abrasions. It wouldn’t be the first time. Bug bites, bruises, nicks and grazes were the norm when you trained canines in the outdoors or deployed to a wilderness search. Sarah inspected her left upper arm where she had a few small marks from stickers that found their way through her uniform to pierce her skin. She began to check her right arm, bending around in the mirror to check the backs of her shoulders. Then she saw it. Her heart rate picked up and she started to hyperventilate. “No, no, no!” Tears sprung to her eyes.

  On the bottom outside of her right forearm, near her elbow, there in small crude capital letters in between several other lines of scars, the word EVA had been cut into her skin. It had been written backwards and when viewed in the mirror, came across correctly. The letters were less than perfect and to someone else, they could’ve passed as a strange scrape or cut. But Sarah recognized the letters. She recognized the deliberateness of the action, the statement. It was a branding.

  She now understood what was going on, but could not accept it. Everything was beginning to fall into place. The tiredness she had been suffering from. The items she’d found around her house that were out of place. And the period of times lately she couldn’t account for. She hadn’t experienced blackouts since she’d left her foster family. The blackouts that had returned like the ones she experienced years prior. Sarah had left everything behind when she’d walked out of the foster family’s house for the last time including her. Eva.

  Sarah collapsed to the floor sobbing. Gunner and Sam came to the bathroom door and stood there looking at her, puzzled at first. Now she knew why the dogs had been acting so strange around her that morning.

  But she didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to believe what was going on. She didn’t know who to turn to or what to do. She dropped to the tiled surface. The dogs came to her side, panting, worried, but empathetic as they tried to relieve their handler of her stress. They stood protective by her. This will ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for, she thought as she lay despondent on the cool bathroom floor.