K-9 Defence. Elizabeth Heiter

“Colter.”

      “Chief. What about the girl who came into the store the day the note was found?”

      “What girl?”

      “The one who looked kind of like Kensie. She was there at the same time as a family.”

      The chief gave a tight smile. “You mean the one there with her family? We don’t know who that was, but we did talk to Jasper about what he remembered. And that was a family, not a scared girl trying to escape.”

      She looked at Kensie, who’d shrunk low into her oversized parka. “I’m sorry. I wish we could help.”

      When she started to walk away, Colter blocked her. “What’s the problem? Is the case still open?” He heard the confrontational note in his voice, but couldn’t stop it.

      She frowned and shoved her hands in the pockets of her parka. “Technically, we let the FBI take over. We checked it out. There’s nothing more we can do.” She looked at Kensie. “I’m sorry. I understand this is hard to hear, but—”

      “Hard to hear? What? That the police won’t do their job?” Colter tried to keep the words inside. But either he’d lost his social skills during his self-imposed hideout this past year or he was just in military mode, assuming everyone was an enemy until proven otherwise.

      He swore internally, but before he could figure out how to backtrack, Chief Hernandez stepped toward him, getting in his space.

      Rebel bared her teeth and even Kensie sidled closer to him in a silent show of support, but the chief sounded more tired than mad when she finally spoke.

      “We did our job. I think you’re low on information, Colter. We worked closely with the FBI on this. It was their call in the end, but we agreed with them.”

      She looked briefly at Kensie, then focused her attention on him again. “Kensie already knows this because the FBI told her, but let me share what they determined after running down all the leads: The note was a hoax.”