Page 17 of Barbed Wire and Burglary
“His dog,” Aaron intoned to A.J. He raised his voice. “Not yet, sir. We’re still processing the crime scene.”
“Can you give us a description of your dog, sir?” A.J. glanced around the showroom floor, which resembled an indoor garage sale. Odds and ends were crammed onto shelves and overflowing onto the floor in places, everything from outdated electronics to chipped glassware. The lone display case beneath the cash register had its glass doors propped open.
The pawnshop owner sounded close to weeping as he lovingly described the dog’s variegated black and brown fur, along with his decorative leather collar. “My wife had it custom made for him.” His voice cracked.
“Does he bite, sir?” A.J. asked, hoping to distract him from his tears. All dogs were capable of biting, but he was trying to get a better picture of what kind of guard dog Trooper was.
“The only thing he sinks his teeth into is his dinner.” Mr. Peters tugged on a hank of his shaggy white beard. “He’s never met a person he doesn’t want to slobber with kisses. I reckon that’s why I got broken into.”
Aaron strolled around the room, turning sideways to edge around a large pile of junk. “Did you figure out whether anything was taken?”
A.J. was surprised Aaron could ask that with a straight face. He doubted anyone was keeping inventory of the mess in the room. What they were looking at was far from spreadsheet-worthy.
However, the oilman nodded, bristling. “They took a porcelain frog. I know it doesn’t sound like much. He wasn’t even for sale, but he was a permanent fixture around here. My wife named him the Frog Prince because hewas so tall. She knitted a crown for him and glued some plastic gems to it. He stood yay high.” He demonstrated the figurine’s height against the faded knees of his overalls. “Folks liked to stop in and take selfies with him. Won’t be the same around here without him,” he sighed dismally.
Selfies!A.J.’s mind zeroed in on that detail. If people had taken selfies, then photos of the Frog Prince likely had ended up on social media. It was possible someone had seen the photos and decided to steal it. Why? What was it about the porcelain frog that had inspired a burglary?
He eyed the older gentleman, wondering why Aaron wasn’t asking him more questions. “What more can you tell us about the frog, sir?”
A faraway look crept into the oldtimer’s eyes. “How much time do you have, son?”
Clearly, the item had sentimental value. “As much time as you need, sir.”
Mr. Peters pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes with it. “The missus, may she rest in peace,” he made the sign of the cross on his chest, “bought it at an estate sale nigh on fifty years ago. We’d just gotten married, and she was decorating our home on a shoestring. Those were the days.” He wiped his eyes again. “We were living on love.” He sniffled loudly. “I miss them more than you can possibly imagine—the love of my life, her Frog Prince, and now my dog.”
No stranger to tragedy himself, A.J. understood more than the older fella realized. “Thank you for answering my questions, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go hunt for Trooper.” He looked around for Aaron and found him stalking about in their direction. “Assuming Deputy Cannon can spare me for a few minutes.”
Aaron curled his upper lip at him. “Take all the time youneed.” His tone indicated he saw no reason for A.J. to hurry back.
A.J.’s gaze swept across the shop one last time, not seeing anything worth stealing. Stepping outside, he whistled and called loudly for Trooper. As intended, the racket he made captured the attention of the people loitering outside the caution tape. The moment he joined them outside the crime scene, they thronged him.
“Was anyone injured?” one woman demanded, holding her cell phone higher to record his answer. It was unclear if she was a member of the press or simply a nosy bystander.
Before he could say anything, a man stepped between them. “Do you know what was stolen?”
“We’re still processing the scene.” A.J. watched from the corner of his eye as Aurora pushed open her door and exited the truck.
Hurrying his way, she wrapped her hands around his arm and gazed imploringly at him. “Is Trooper his dog?”
“Yep, and he’s missing.” It was difficult to tear his gaze away from her loveliness, but there was still work to do. “I could use your help,” he informed the crowd. “We have a missing dog. A German Shepherd named Trooper. Mr. Peters would be mighty grateful if we’d spread out and search for him. His dog is all the family he has left.”
It was an emotional appeal that had his listeners scrambling to comply. Several people murmured something about how friendly Trooper was and what a shame it would be if the aging dog was left to wander alone in the cold for long. The well-meaning citizens quickly scattered to commence the search.
Aurora squeezed A.J.’s arm. “You didn’t even offer a reward,” she declared in amazement, “yet look at them go!”
“It’s not necessary when you’re dealing with kind,decent people.” In A.J.’s experience, an emotional appeal like the one he’d given was far more motivating.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” She gave his arm a gentle tug. “Let’s join them.”
He doubted their assistance would be necessary. If Trooper was as friendly as his owner had described, the dog would soon be recovered. “Let’s start by sweeping the alley behind the building.” He’d caught sight of something important back there that hadn’t yet been roped off with caution tape.
Aurora looked puzzled. “I saw several people head that way already.”
“So did I,” he leaned in to kiss her cheek, “but they’re not looking for what we’re looking for.”
“You mean Trooper?” No amount of badgering on her part could get him to spill the beans until they came to a large brown dumpster.
He pulled his arm from her grasp and swung the sliding door open on the side of the dumpster. Leaning inside, he flicked on his flashlight app and shone it around.
