Page 107 of Swept for Forever
I gave Autumn a small nod.
She sat straighter. “I saw a man burying a small duffel bag. He had a dog with him?—”
Boone leaned in slightly. “What kind of dog?”
“I don’t know the breed. But black and white, with a short coat and big ears.”
His mouth tightened.
“That could be Miss Sinclair’s dog.”
I raised my eyes. “It is.”
Something flickered in his expression. Not surprise, not excitement. Just confirmation, like he’d already pieced it together and was only waiting for me to say it out loud.
“Where is it?” he asked.
“The dog’s in Idaho Falls,” I said. “Well taken care of. Miss Jones’ mother has her.”
Boone rubbed a hand over his jaw, weighing his response. I could see the thought process happening, the calculations.
“I should take her back to Miss Sinclair’s parents?—”
Autumn tensed beside me. “No, please. Don’t take her away.”
He glanced at me, then back at her.
I kept my voice even. “She’s been with Miss Jones for a while now. They’ve bonded. She saved Miss Jones, and Miss Jones saved her. The dog’s not just evidence, deputy.”
He held up a hand, his tone patient. “Let me finish, Mr. Powell.”
I bit back my next words.
He explained, “Miss Sinclair’s parents…they’re not that fond of the dog. Grief’s a strange thing. They blamed the animal for their daughter’s disappearance. Said she had a habit of running off, playing hide and seek.”
I rubbed Autumn’s hand. Lulu had been playful, but she never wandered far from Autumn.
“Please, Deputy,” I said again.
A long pause. Then he nodded. “Fine. The dog stays in Idaho Falls. But if I need anything—tracking, behavioral assessment, whatever—she comes into custody. Understood?”
Autumn bowed her head, tension seeping from her shoulders. I put an arm around her. “She’ll be okay, sweetheart,” I murmured.
The old deputy tapped his fingers on the desk. Back to business. “All right. This man you saw buryin’ the duffel, what’s his story?”
Autumn inhaled, steadying herself. “He saw me watching. When I ran, he opened fire.”
Boone sharpened instantly. “He had a weapon?”
“Yes.”
“Were you hit? Did you receive medical treatment?”
“He missed,” she said. “I had other injuries. Buffaloberry Hill Hospital patched me up. But I never took a bullet, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Boone stared into the distance, like a hound picking up a scent. Then his focus snapped back to her. “Did that man ever catch up with you?”
“No. I ran far enough. But the dog, Lulu…she found me later and stayed with me.”
