Chapter 3 The Phone Call #3
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 you need.” 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.
The stench of rotting food and other garbage slammed into his nostrils right before his beam of light landed on the item he was looking for.
Gotcha! The olive green frog Mr. Peters had described lay shattered in the corner.
He pulled his head out of the dumpster to fill his lungs with fresh air before taking the smelly plunge. “I’m going in.”
Aurora’s eyes widened with mirth. “I didn’t peg you for a dumpster diver.”
“I’m a man of many talents.” He handed his Stetson to her, which she promptly put on.
Circling the dumpster, he discovered an old television butted up against the fence that was partially enclosing the area.
It was one of those big, boxy television sets that had taken up an entire corner of his parents’ living room while growing up.
Scooting it closer to the opening of the dumpster, he used it to hoist himself inside.
His boots landed on something squishy that turned out to be a head of rotten cauliflower.
He shook it off the bottom of his boot and stepped closer to the shattered frog.
Snapping pictures on his cell phone from every angle, he texted them to his boss before reaching for the biggest porcelain shard.
He lifted it by its outer edges to avoid smudging any fingerprints that might be present.
He carried it to the opening of the dumpster, where Aurora was waiting and watching him with interest.
He held out the first shard to her. “Would you mind piling these somewhere they won’t get stepped on?”
Without waiting to be told, she mimicked his movements, accepting the broken piece of porcelain while only touching its outer edges. “I don’t mind at all, Sherlock.”
He continued hauling shards to her, right down to the smallest chips he could find. Then he sent another text to Decker Kingston, asking him how to proceed. He hoped the question would subtly communicate his suspicions about Deputy Aaron Cannon and get a backup police officer en route.
Decker texted back within seconds:
It’s Deputy Cannon’s call.
Well, I tried. It was too bad the chain of custody of the evidence A.J. and Aurora had gathered would go through a dirty deputy’s hands.
A.J. was in the middle of scooting a broken armchair to the opening of the dumpster to hoist himself out when the toe of his boot nudged an empty box. Something shiny glinted up at him. He paused to aim the beam of light from his cell phone at it.
Unbelievable!
He found himself staring at a short length of barbed wire—silver and shiny like the “signature” of a notorious jewel thief who’d called himself the Collector.
Past tense. The burglar’s remains had finally been found and identified a couple of years ago.
If they hadn’t been located, the law enforcement community would’ve never known the aging criminal was gone due to the number of copycat burglaries still being committed.
A.J. carried the barbed wire with him out of the dumpster, knowing it was a significant find.
All along, he’d sensed something bigger was in play, and now he was sure of it.
Dozens of articles had been written by crime scene specialists, speculating about the significance of the Collector’s “signature.” Of all the theories running around, A.J.
favored the simplest one. Barbed wire represented restriction, oppression, and conflict—including the inner kind—all of which the Collector had possessed.
According to a mix of case files and legend, the Collector was a poor farmer who had the audacity to fall in love with the daughter of a wealthy rancher.
Shortly after she agreed to marry him, he was accused of breaking into her home and stealing a diamond ring from her mother.
From all modern accounts, he was likely innocent, but he’d gone to jail, anyway.
In a twist of pure irony, his infamous crime spree had begun after he’d emerged from prison.
Some chalked it up to revenge. Some said it was a tribute to the woman he’d loved and lost. Regardless, he’d amassed a fortune in stolen gems, which had yet to be recovered.
“If you’re anything, you’re thorough.” Aurora watched with astonishment as he added the barbed wire to their growing pile of evidence. “Any particular reason one of these pieces of garbage looks different than the others?”
“Sorry, ma’am.” He tipped her chin up for a kiss. “I’m not allowed to discuss an ongoing investigation.” He knew he was walking a fine line, considering how much he’d already involved her.
She wrinkled her nose at him, eyes shining like she was having the time of her life. “That stinks almost as much as you do right now.”
He snickered. “Thanks for being my partner in crime despite the stench.”
“Wait a sec!” She backed mockingly away from him with both hands raised. “I had no idea you were dragging me over to the dark side. Do I need to hire a lawyer?”
“What for?” He pulled his jacket over his nose to make himself look like a highway robber. “If anyone asks, just tell ‘em you didn’t see anything.”
“But I did.” Aaron Cannon’s voice broke coldly over them.
A.J. lowered his jacket from his nose and faced the biggest bane of his existence. “Any updates on Trooper?”
Aaron pushed back his Stetson to scowl at him. “Yep. Someone found him wandering around the lake.”
Aurora clapped her hands triumphantly. “You can thank my boyfriend for launching the search party,” she bragged. “He had them scrambling all over each other to do his bidding.” She planted a brazen kiss on his lips.
Aaron flinched as he watched them. “Guess that explains why the woman who brought Trooper home acted like she deserved an Olympic medal.”
“All I did was appeal to their sense of decency.” A.J.
was deeply touched by Aurora’s praise as well as her public show of affection.
She seemed determined to wear down her brother’s resistance to the idea of them dating.
A.J. still wasn’t sure what Aaron had against him.
Aaron didn’t yet know A.J. was trying to put him behind bars, so it couldn’t be that.
Maybe it’s my age.
Aaron cleared his throat. “Launching a search for the dog was a cool move.”