Searching (PAVAD- FBI Romantic Suspense Book 18) by Calle Brookes (100 books to read in a lifetime txt) 📕

own stomach briefly. If Jac recalled correctly, she was due with her first somewhere around the end of April, six months away. “Shayna has something from you as well.”

“Thanks, Kel,” Miranda said. “And…take it easy. You look green. It doesn’t go well with the purple and orange hair.”

“I have a feeling it’s going to be my main color for a few more months. Good luck, you two. We’re here on standby the instant you need us. Just find those kids. Livy was at the sleepover my dad and stepmother hosted last month for Aislyn’s birthday. I…just find those little girls.”

Jac thought about Kelly’s words as she and Miranda stepped into the hall.

Too many at PAVAD were connected to Brynlock Academy.

To those little girls.

This…this felt like a blow to the very family Jac loved so much.

42

Jac was silent as the crossed the hall to the next lab. The tech inside looked up when they entered.

“About time someone from the CCU showed up,” the assistant blood-and-bios supervisor said. Jac nodded to her.

“We just left Kelly. She said you may have more.”

“They called me in to deal with…this.” Shayna Hawkes was a recent transplant to PAVAD from one of the west coast field offices. About Jac’s height, she was brown-haired, brown-eyed, and snarky. “Welcome. I was just about to get started with…her.”

The evidence she was referring to give a small yip and growl.

Jac stepped closer, to take a better look.

Harnessed to the exam table was a small dog of indeterminate breed, wearing a fluorescent-green cloth muzzle. She suspected the dog had some Yorkie and Chihuahua. Maybe a little bit of beagle or hound. She was so completely ugly. Jac’s heart melted just seeing her.

Most definitely a mutt, of less than ten pounds or so. Shayna, wearing nitrile gloves, was attempting to run a small fine-tooth comb through the dog’s two-inch fur. “Who’s this?” Jac asked. She murmured to the dog, then grabbed a pair of gloves for herself.

This looked like a three-person job. Well, two and a half, considering the cast on Miranda’s arm.

It took them a few minutes, but eventually the little dog calmed. She almost seemed to enjoy the grooming—and the attention from the three women.

“Agents Jac and Miranda, meet Sadie Gayle Lindsay. This is your elderly victim’s dog. Vet records show she’s not quite eighteen months. Very well-loved, according to the vet tech I spoke with twenty minutes ago. St. Louis police found her on Mrs. Lindsay’s porch about an hour ago. Had a bit of trouble catching her from what I understand. She’s little, but she’s quick.”

Jac wanted to pet the dog. To help calm her. But she refrained. The dog was evidence. She knew better. The dog had to be processed, meticulously. Cases had hinged on tiny details many times before.

“She kept outsmarting them,” Shayna said. “Something I would have paid to see.”

“She was at the crime scene, I take it?” Miranda asked.

“We believe so,” Shayna said. “There were small dog prints found near Mrs. Lindsay’s body. They led up toward her house. We believe that Mrs. Lindsay heard what was going on and came to investigate. Mrs. Lindsay probably witnessed what had happened. And the killer turned on her. At least, that’s what the evidence is showing so far.”

“Edith was most likely collateral damage,” Miranda said, her tone grim. No wonder. Jac adored Miranda’s grandmother. Every time she looked at a photo of Mrs. Lindsay she saw Flo Talley in that woman’s place.

Shayna nodded. “Now, I know that I’m supposed to stick to the science, but that’s what most of us believe. There’s blood on Sadie’s muzzle; most likely, it’s that of Mrs. Lindsay. As if maybe the dog licked her to try to wake her. But...”

“We have to confirm.” Jac said.

“Poor little thing,” Miranda said. “I think she’s traumatized. No wonder. I fully believe dogs grieve. Especially when they are well-loved. They just know.”

Jac agreed wholeheartedly. She hadn’t had a dog since she’d been a child. Miranda had an elderly dog back in Masterson. A border collie who stayed with Miranda’s cousin, a vet tech in the county.

Jac knew Miranda missed her a great deal, but she’d decided that moving the dog to St. Louis would be too stressful for the dog at this stage in her life. In Masterson she could go outside, and be with the rest of the family that loved her so much.

Jac carefully gripped the little dog’s hips and her chest. And held her still. The poor little thing was shaking. Terrified. Shayna took the swab samples she needed efficiently.

Jac just watched. “She has been traumatized. Tonight, she danced with the devil. She’s not going to forget that anytime soon. It’s not an easy thing to ever forget.”

Jac had danced with the devil enough to know that. Memories of her stepfather threatened to break back in. No wonder; they always did when she felt vulnerable and unsettled. Unsafe. Hurting.

Shayna shot her a look, as if she could see in Jac’s soul to the hurt beneath. “From what we can tell, Mrs. Lindsay has no family. Once the dog is processed, we’ll be turning her over to the humane society. Hopefully, she’ll find a good home soon.”

The dog would be forgotten about. Just passed around like old luggage. Unless she got lucky and someone took her home. Even as homely as she was.

The dog’s whole world had changed, too.

The dog whined and licked Jac’s hand through the muzzle. Jac knew procedure.

The dog would remain muzzled while being processed, for everyone’s safety. Her sister, who worked extensively with dogs, made certain her animals were always muzzle trained. Nat had said many times that you didn’t know how or when an emergency can occur, where a dog needed to be muzzled for everyone’s safety—including the dog’s.

Nat hadn’t wanted her dogs to have to face being muzzled for the first time when they were already terrified for their lives. But that was a viewpoint most people didn’t have. They thought muzzles were inhumane—or