Chapter 10
“You’re sure a kid brought the dog in?” Jane asked the receptionist who’d received the Coatneys’ pet.
“Positive, Agent Cannon. Christian often brings us animals he finds on the street.”
“He’s how old?”
“Just turned twelve. He’s tall for his age, short brown hair, big blue eyes.
A cute kid if a little scruffy.” The woman’s expression softened.
“I think he’s homeless. I’ve seen him hanging around on the streets, but he looks well-fed, and his clothes are clean if not the nicest.” She paused. “He didn’t steal the dog, did he?”
“No, not at all. But it belonged to a family who passed away. I’d like to talk to Christian if you can tell me where I can find him.”
The woman grabbed a business card from a drawer. On one side, it had the animal shelter’s information, and on the other, a hand-scrawled phone number with CHRISTIAN above it in all caps.
She handed it to Jane and smiled. “We pay him when we have a special case that needs attention. Christian volunteers here a lot, and he’s a wonder with our more abused animals.
The kid’s got a gift.” The woman nodded at a sketch of a dog that looked just like the canine sitting on a cushion on the floor behind her.
“He drew this for me as a present. Looks just like my Bosco, doesn’t it? ”
“It does.” Jane smiled. The boy reminded her of Nora, a young woman who also had an artistic bent. Which reminded Jane to call and check in on the girl.
Jane typed Christian’s phone number into her phone and handed back the card. Then she pushed her own card across the counter. “Please, if he comes back, have him call me.”
“Will do. Say, you’re not in the market for a pet, are you?”
“Unfortunately, no. I’m never at home.”
“I’m not either.” The woman glanced at the pit mix over her shoulder, who watched with his tongue hanging out. “But Bosco doesn’t mind.”
“Yeah, well, your bosses probably encourage pets in the workplace. Mine aren’t so nice.”
The woman laughed. “Good luck, Agent Cannon.”
Out of ideas, Jane left the shelter and drove a few blocks. She spotted a young boy matching Christian’s description near the Whole Foods parking lot, so she hurried to park and catch up to him.
“Is your name Christian?”
He gave her a wary look. “Maybe.”
“I’m Agent Jane Cannon.” She showed him her badge, and he blinked in surprise. “I just came from the animal shelter. I have a few questions for you.” What had the receptionist’s name been? “Gloria said you could tell me about the black lab you just brought in.”
He stopped on the sidewalk. “You mean Bandit?”
“Is that his name?” Jane still saw a hint of apprehension in his eyes.
“I know you shouldn’t talk to strangers, but I need help.
” As the receptionist had said, Christian appeared clean and healthy, though his clothes had a few holes and his shoes were worn.
But didn’t children typically look that way? “I’m even willing to pay.”
That eased some of his tension. He hooked his thumbs in his ragged jeans and cocked back. “What’s it worth to you?”
Jane rubbed her chin. “Hmm. How about whatever you want to eat at Whole Foods?” She nodded to the grocery store behind her. “And you’d be doing a favor for the feds, so I’d owe you one. I think Bandit might know something about a case I’m working.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
He grinned, his front teeth slightly crooked, turning him from cute to adorable. “So I’d be your informant. For real?”
“That’s right. I’ll add you to the list of my confidential informants. Now how about it? Food for info?”
He held out a hand. “You got a deal.”
Twenty minutes later, the boy had eaten her out of a solid thirty bucks. Jane had no idea where he was putting it, but he looked like he could use the protein. She’d missed lunch, so she did her best to eat something healthy. The molasses cookie had been a splurge, but she figured she’d earned it.
Christian sat back and patted his swollen stomach. “Ah. That hit the spot.”
“You sure? I think they still have some groceries left on the shelves.”
He snickered. “Hey, you said anything I wanted to eat.”
“I did.”
“Okay, boss. What do you want to know about Bandit?”
“How’d you get the dog?”
“I found him where me and my friends hang out.”
“Which is where?”
He nodded in the direction behind him, which meant anywhere.
“In the Greenbelt?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“You found him?”
Christian nodded.
“Did he have a leash? A collar? Did he look all right?”
“He had his collar on, which is how I knew his name was Bandit. He seemed a little scared. He was all alone, and it was kind of dark.”
Jane’s hopes for details on anything associated with her killer died a swift death—pun intended.
“But probably because his owner ditched him,” the boy continued. “The guy was nice about it though. It was weird.”
Jane caught her breath. “You saw him? Bandit’s owner?”
Christian nodded. “It was pretty dark. I couldn’t see much. But he was a tall white guy. He had big hands. I noticed that because he had gloves on, and it’s summer out.”
“What about his hair? Eyes? Could you describe him to a sketch artist?”
Christian polished off his remaining cola and gave a satisfied burp. “Nah. He was in the shadows, so I could see how tall he was and that he wasn’t fat. But he had on a long jacket and gloves.”
She had him describe as much as he could remember.
“Bandit didn’t seem scared of him, so I figured the guy couldn’t be too bad. But I wish people would stop dumping pets in the Greenbelt.” Christian scowled. “It’s mean. My mom doesn’t have a lot of money or anything, but she’d never dump me. She loves me.”
“Sounds like a good mom.”
Christian smiled. “She’s the best.”
“What does she think of you helping all the animals you bring to the shelter?”
“She thinks it’s good I’m ‘finding my passion,’ whatever that means. I think she’s just happy I’m not on drugs or running with the gangs getting all the kids around here to join up.”
“Gangs?”
“Forget I said that. I’m not a narc. Not this guy.” He pointed both thumbs at his chest. “But I can tell you that Bandit’s owner seemed a little sad to see him go. He petted the dog a lot and kissed Bandit’s head.” Christian paused. “Then he said something I didn’t understand.”
“What did it sound like?”
“I dunno. I don’t speak Russian.”
“Russian? You’re sure?”
“I think so. My best friend’s cousin is from St. Petersburg, and he taught me how to curse in Russian.” Christian shared several phrases with her.
“I’d be impressed if I understood. And no, I don’t need a translation.”
That had him laughing.
She continued, “But I’d really appreciate it if you’d come with me to the police station to—” At the vehement shake of his head, she sighed. “Never mind. How about if we go over the details of you rescuing Bandit again? And this time I’ll write everything down.”
“Yeah. Okay, but…”
“What?”
“Could I get another cookie?”
“I don’t know where you put it all, but sure.”
He grinned. “I’m a real CI. I need my energy so I can keep giving the FBI tips. And maybe you can put me and my mom in witness protection or something like that. Do I get to pick a new name?”
She just looked at him.
“Hey, I know the deal. I’m street savvy.”
“Street savvy, huh?” She grinned at him. “I think we can safely say you don’t need a new identity just yet. But sure, consider yourself my newest CI. That means I’m going to be checking in with you from time to time. So stay out of trouble.”
He crossed his heart and did some weird move with his fingers. “Swear.” He held out his pinkie.
She shook it with her own.
And jotted down the beginning of her hunt for a killer.