Page 11

Jack Thompson’s address was in Sheridan, a small town north of Carmel. According to Slade, he didn’t actually live in the town but in a small cabin in the woods off of the Monon Greenway.

“Most of the land is public use and not zoned for residences, but there were a few old hunting lodges repurposed into homes that got an exemption. Looks like Thompson is one of them.”

“We’ll need to be careful going in,” Faith said. “He could be armed.”

“He’s not licensed to own a firearm, but yes, we should be careful. He might very well have one anyway.”

“I suggest we have Turk lead. He’s trained to recognize gunpowder and other explosives from his time in the Corps.”

“Works for me. Are you anticipating a fight?”

“If he knows we’re here investigating the murder, yes,” Faith replied. “He might not be the killer, but if he knows we suspect him of being the killer, he could react badly.”

“Got it. Well, we’ll be ready if that’s what happens.”

Slade turned off of the Greenway onto a rough dirt road that led east into the forest. The shadows were growing long as the afternoon progressed. They reached for the car with jagged claws, and Faith felt a shiver as the road disappeared behind them.

Turk didn’t show any fear, but his eyes were wide and alert, and his tail swished back and forth. Like Faith, he anticipated a fight too.

“According to the GPS, the house should be eight hundred feet to the left just about… here.”

He stopped the cruiser and pointed out of the window at a narrow footpath that led up a low hill. Faith caught a glimpse of a log cabin between the thick branches of the trees lined on either side of the path. "Okay, boy," she told Turk. "On my command."

The three of them left the vehicle and Turk trotted to the edge of the footpath, ears up, body poised. Faith and Slade checked their weapons, and when Slade nodded to Faith, she commanded, “Go.”

Turk shot forward, bounding almost silently up the path. “Damn,” Slade whispered. “I forget how quiet dogs can be.”

“Let’s see if we can be that quiet,” Faith replied.

The two human investigators started up the footbath, hands on their weapons but not drawn. Faith listened closely for the barking that would tell her that Turk had found their quarry, but it never came. When they reached the cabin, they found Turk standing in front of the door, sniffing carefully.

“What does that mean?” Slade asked.

“It means Thompson might still be inside,” Faith said. “Or he’s not here, but Turk smells something suspicious.”

Slade nodded. “I’ll go to the back, you take the front?”

“Works for me.”

Slade moved around to the back of the house, this time drawing his weapon. Faith drew hers but held out hope they wouldn’t need to use them.

She knocked on the door. “FBI! Respond!”

Jack—if he was inside the cabin—didn’t.

“FBI! Jack Thomas, respond!”

He still didn’t.

Faith lifted the radio Slade had let her borrow to her lips. “Slade? You there?”

“I’m here. Back door’s locked. Are we going in?”

“Looks like it. Let me try the front door and see if it opens.”

She reached for the handle, but before she grabbed it, Turk barked urgently. The door burst open, knocking Faith off of the porch. She covered her head just before she hit the ground, but the five-foot drop still knocked the wind out of her. She gasped and fumbled around for her weapon while a tall figure covered in dirt and branches jumped off of the porch and sprinted into the forest.

Turk started after the suspect but hesitated when he saw Faith. “Go after him!” she commanded.

Turk ran after the suspect, and Faith found her weapon and got to her feet. Slade rounded the house and rushed to her. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Faith said, wincing as she rolled her shoulder. Noting Slade’s concerned expression, she said, “Seriously, I’m fine. Just bruised. Come on, Turk’s on his trail.”

The two officers jogged into the forest, following Turk’s barking. The suspect already had a significant head start, and he knew these woods much better than they did, so they would have to rely on Turk to keep up with their suspect and hopefully corner him.

“Did you see a weapon?” Slade asked.

“No, but I didn’t get a good look. He was wearing hunting camouflage, so he could have concealed something.”

“Damn it. Okay.”

Reminding her about the weapon made Faith worry for Turk. Turk was adept at handling suspects with weapons, but in the forest, he wouldn’t have as much room to maneuver. Neither would Slade, but if he knew where he was going, he could be trying to lead Turk into a trap.

She heard barking and then a cry and increased her pace. “Jack Thompson! Stop!”

A yelp followed that command, and a thrill of fear coursed through her spine. “Don’t you dare hurt my dog!”

That brought a disturbing feeling of guilt. After all, they suspected Jack of murdering someone for hurting his dog.

The chase continued deeper into the forest. Here, the tall trees thinned out, and the young trees stifled the forest floor with their branches, making it difficult for the two investigators to know where they were going.

Turk began to bark again, and Faith breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t sound hurt. Faith guessed that he had cornered the suspect and been shaken off but not injured.

“Jack! We’re going to find you. Give it up now! You’re only making things worse for yourself!” Another yelp followed that, and she swore. “Damn it, Jack, if you injure my K9, you’ll be charged with aggravated assault on a law enforcement officer.”

“Does that really matter if he’s up for multiple murder?” Slade asked.

Faith glared at him, and he looked away. “Jack! Turk!”

Turk replied by whining. She wouldn’t have heard that if she wasn’t close. “Turk! Come here, boy! Can you come to me?”

A second later, Turk walked through some low-hanging branches and trotted to Faith. He was shaking his head and rubbing his nose with his paws, but he didn't look like he was bleeding.

“What happened, boy?” Faith asked. “Did he spray you with something?”

“Bear spray, I’m guessing,” Slade said. “Everyone carries that out here. Poor guy. That’s tough.”

Turk whined plaintively, and Faith saw his eyes were bloodshot. He sneezed and shook his head again.

Faith sighed in exasperation. Not only was she upset to see her dog hurt—even in a minor way like this—but their suspect had defeated their K9 and was now probably undetectable.

“Put an APB out,” she told Slade.

“You’re calling the chase?”

“Hell no. But I’m also being realistic.”

Slade nodded. “Good point.”

Faith pulled her water bottle from her best pocket and poured it over Turk’s face. Turk groaned with relief as the water washed away most of the bear spray. That wouldn’t help his sense of smell, though. It would be hours before that recovered.

Still, maybe they could pick up a trail. The woods thinned out up ahead. If they were lucky, maybe they would thin out enough for them to see footprints or snapped branches that might tell them where Jack Thompson had gone.

"Take us to him, boy," she told Turk. Turk gave her an injured expression, and she clarified, "Take us to where you saw him last."

Turk sneezed, then trotted off the way he had come. The two human agents followed, keeping quiet so they could hear any movements that might indicate the presence of their suspect.

Turk led them a couple hundred feet through the forest. For a moment, the trees actually grew thicker, and Faith had a sinking feeling that Jack would have lost them after all. After another hundred feet or so, however, Turk led them into a clearing. He trotted to the middle, where a rough circle of disturbed ground confirmed that he had tussled briefly with their suspect. He lowered his nose to the ground, but after a moment, he released a glum moan and sat, putting his head in between his hands.

“It’s all right, boy,” Faith said. “Come on. I see his footprints.”

Faith followed the tracks into the forest, but after another thirty yards, the trees thickened again. The three agents had to move slowly so Faith could catch the snapped branches and disturbed leaf litter that were now her only indication of where Thompson might have gone.

“I didn’t see any blood,” Slade said. “Would’ve been nice if Turk had gotten a bite in so we could track the blood.”

“Shh,” Faith said. “Stay quiet. He might make noise.”

“You think he’s close?”

“He could be. He might be trying to hide now that he’s defeated Turk’s nose.”

Slade shrugged and fell silent. He didn’t seem to have as much hope as Faith did. To be honest, she wasn’t particularly hopeful either, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Then it occurred to her that smell wasn’t the only sense Turk had that was superior to their own. “Turk,” she called softly. “Use your ears. Listen for the suspect.”

Turk cocked his head, and Faith tapped her own ears. “Listen.”

Turk concentrated for a moment, then waggled his ears. Faith nodded. “Yes. Use those.”

Turk dipped his head and trotted forward, head lifted, ears scanning like radar dishes.

“Didn’t know dogs could move their ears like that,” Slade whispered. “He looks like a cat.”

Turk looked back and gave Slade a dubious look. The police officer lifted a hand in apology, and Turk resumed his search for the suspect.

The sky was darkening fast. According to Faith’s phone, they had two hours of daylight left, at least, but the thick tree cover meant that little of that light made it to the forest floor. Turk would be just fine without light in normal circumstances, but with his sense of smell compromised, he would be a lot less useful. They could continue this search for another hour or so, but then Faith would have to admit defeat and take them back to the car.

Then Turk stopped. He stood stock still, focused on something ahead and to his right. Faith held a hand up, and she and Slade stopped.

Turk crept forward, his paws making no sound as they hit the dirt. Both of his ears pointed forward, and after a few more steps, he launched forward without warning, chomping down on a pile of leaf litter.

A cry came up from the leaf litter, and a moment later, Jack Thompson got to his knees, shaking his arm and reaching for Turk. Faith and Slade drew their weapons, and Faith commanded, “Stop! Jack Thompson, do not injure my K9!”

Jack looked at Faith, his eyes wide. Turk growled and pulled him back to the ground, his jaws cinched tightly over his shoulder. Jack cried out and said, “Okay! Okay! You got me! I’m unarmed! Please don’t shoot!”

Faith kept her weapon trained on him and called Turk off. Turk released Jack and trotted back to her side while Slade handcuffed their defeated suspect.

“All right, Mr. Thompson,” Faith said, holstering her weapon. “We’re going to get you checked out at a hospital. Then we’re going to have a little chat.”

“Oh God,” Jack whimpered. “Am I in trouble?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

Slade pulled Jack to his feet and called for an ambulance to meet them at Jack’s residence. The four of them headed back through the woods, and Faith dared to hope that she might have reached an end to this case without risking her career or the life of another innocent.

Still, the lengthening shadows seemed to taunt her as she followed Slade and Turk back to Jack’s cabin. It felt like a mocking warning not to get her hopes up.

After all, in Faith’s experience, things were rarely this easy.