Page 32 of So Alone

“We’ll have to follow up on your alibis,” Faith said, “but is there anyone else you can think of who might have committed these murders?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t. It doesn't make sense to me. You could try the other junkyards, I guess. A few of them have guard dogs too, but I talk to them from time to time, and none of them seem the type to hurt other people ‘less they have to. And I mean, I really have to. We junkyard guys get a bad rap sometimes, but we’re good people. We might be a little awkward sometimes, but we’re not angry. We just have to deal with thieves, and that's why we rely on our good boys and girls."

He held out his arms, and several dogs rushed him. He embraced them all and grinned while they licked him.

Turk left the bone and trotted to Faith and Michael, looking expectantly at them. Faith took the hint and stood. “Keep your phone on, Jed,” she said, extending her hand. “I’ll make sure to call ahead next time we have to visit.”

“Anytime,” Jed said, taking her hand. “Sorry again about everything. Just have to be careful. There’s a lot of crazies out there.”

***

“So Franks was a dead end too, huh?” Tom said after the agents related their story. He sighed and shook his head. “Well, that puts us back to square one.”

“What about the rest of the list?” Michael said. “We still have to interview them.”

“We did,” Tom replied. “I sent officers to each of the owners’ houses and businesses. They were all reluctant to talk at first, but once they did, they were all able to provide alibis, same as Franks.”

“What about the dogs?” Faith asked.

“None of them fit the profile,” Tom answered. “They were all big dogs: Dobermans, Bulldogs, Rottweilers, Shepherds… none of them smaller than fifty pounds.”

That was a problem because at least two of the dogs for each victim had been smaller than twenty pounds. “No sign of smaller dogs elsewhere on the property?” Faith asked.

“We’d need to get warrants if we wanted to search,” Tom replied, “but three of the five volunteered to let the officers look around, and they didn’t see anything. Should we look into the other two?”

Faith considered a moment. “No, not if they have alibis. If they had smaller dogs, they would have no reason not to tell the officers unless they were the killers. Since they have alibis, I think we can safely rule this out. Besides, I have a feeling that our killer probably hasn’t registered his dogs, so the list is probably not as helpful as we hoped it would be.”

“What about Franks’ dogs?” Tom asked. “Those were all different sizes, right?”

“Yes, but none below fifty pounds.”

Tom sighed. “So square one then. Dammit.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Faith broke the silence by saying, “Well, if we’re back to square one, then that’s where we need to start. Let’s break for lunch, and when we get back, we’ll go back to the victims. There has to be a connection between them, even if the victims themselves didn’t know it. There’s a reason the killer chose them, no matter how random it seems.”

“Agreed,” Michael said. “We’ve been focusing on the murder weapon, but that hasn’t gotten us anywhere.”

Tom nodded. “All right. I’ll see you back here in an hour.”

Faith and Michael headed to a local Mexican restaurant that promised Los Angeles-style street tacos. Faith wasn't sure what a Los Angeles-style street taco was, but the spice and citrus of the liberally seasoned tacos cleared her mind and sharpened her senses.

“Well, it’s not L.A.,” Michael said, “but it’s damned good.”

“What’s special about L.A. street tacos?” Faith asked.

“Cilantro,” he said. “That’s the one thing these tacos are missing. “Cilantro ties everything together.”

Faith pointed to the door to the kitchen. “You want to go tell them?”

“You want to go screw yourself?” he bantered back.

“Screw?” Faith replied with a chuckle. “What’s wrong, Michael? Ellie doesn’t let you use curse words?”

“She lets me use them in bed,” he quipped.

This banter was helpful not only to relieve tension but to keep their wits sharp. It was an underrated benefit of a partner who could keep up with Faith’s biting wit.

“Really?” she said, furrowing her brow innocently. “Here, let me call her and ask.”

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