Page 13 of So Deadly
“Yeah, they’re on their way,” the shorter uniform replied.“We were going to take it out of the yard so we could see if the killer might have come in that way, but the dog attacked us as soon as we opened the door.I barely escaped getting my fingers bit off.”
Faith listened to the barks for a moment.They weren’t angry.They were terrified.Desperate.His human was inside here, and someone dangerous was here too, and he couldn’t get to her to protect her.
She took a deep breath and turned around, keeping her eyes on the door.“Turk.”Turk lifted his head from the remnants of Hayes’s own head.“Outside.Let’s go see the dog.”
Turk barked, then trotted to the door.Faith followed, skirting the edges of the kitchen to avoid the blood.The barks from outside intensified as they approached the door.Faith reached across, turned the handle, and pushed open the door.
Twin tornadoes of fur collided.Turk lowered his shoulder and planted his back feet, pushing the younger, bigger Shepherd against the wall.The younger dog wore a service dog vest that was now scuffed and covered in dirt and grass stains.He growled and scrabbled, trying to push past him and get to Hayes.He had a good ten pounds on Turk and could probably have overwhelmed him if he thought about how to get Turk off of him, but he was so consumed with fear that he didn’t seem to register that it was Turk’s weight on him that was holding him back.
Turk barked once, firmly.The dog stopped and looked ahead.Its eyes were wide open and dazed.Turk barked again, more gently, and the dog lowered its head to the body—theremains—of Margaret Hayes.It yelped and tried to push past Turk again, and this time when Turk held him, he snarled and bit Turk on the hindquarters.
Faith moved to intervene, and Turk whipped his head toward her and barked twice.Back off.I’ve got this.
Faith obliged, taking a step away.The bigger dog tried once more to move Turk, but its legs were shaking now.It looked back at the body, then sank to the ground, shivering and whimpering.Turk lay next to him, laying his head over the other dog as it wept.A trickle of blood ran down his flank where the other dog had bit him, but the wound didn’t seem too concerning.
Faith reached down to pat Turk’s head.“Good boy.”
She stepped through the door into the yard.The back porch was covered in dirt, and dozens of scratch marks stretched across the wood from the dog’s desperate efforts to get inside.The first few feet of grass beyond the porch was similarly torn up, but past that, Faith saw a trail of footprints leading to a back fence.She followed the trail and noted the dirt and scuff marks on the boards.
She took two long strides to the right so she wouldn’t contaminate evidence and climbed the fence herself.She landed on the other side, almost directly on top of a yellow plastic poncho.
“Shit!”she cried out, pushing off the fence.Her balance wavered, and she decided to let herself fall, performing a forward roll up to her feet.
The poncho was covered in blood.One sleeve was extended outward, and Faith could see small tears at the end of it.She cupped her hands over her mouth and called, “Detective!I have something!”
A moment later, Jenkins and a still shivering Jessica joined her.Jenkins whistled when he saw the poncho.“Well, that’s our silver lining, I guess.We’re bound to get something from that.”
Faith hoped he was right, but she feared the killer’s choice to leave the poncho was predicated on confidence that theywouldn’tfind anything.“Have CSI put a rush on this.Anything that doesn’t match Hayes’s body is our killer.”
“You think she had a chance to defend herself?”Jessica asked.
“No way to tell until we get the results back, but if so, then we might have the who of this dunit faster than normal.Which means no more bodies like that one.”
“Had me at dunit,” Jenkins said.
He issued the command to the uniforms, who apparently were serving double duty as evidence collectors.Newton was a short drive from Boston, but it had its own police department and medical examiner’s office, and apparently this didn’t rate a phone call to Boston.Or, more likely, Jenkins knew this would get buried among the dozens of active cases that city was probably dealing with, and he was trying to find answers quickly before whoever had done that to Margaret Hayes had a chance to do it to someone else.
“It’s kinda funny,” Jenkins said.“In a not-actually-that-funny kind of way.If Hayes had a doggy door, then that shepherd would have probably come into the house and made the killer look like she does now.Instead, he had to listen while his human got torn to shreds.”He shook his head.“Fake service dog or no, I feel bad for him.No one deserves this.”
Faith looked back toward the house where the tatters of what had only a few hours ago been a living, breathing human lay in a mess on the kitchen floor.“I know at least one person who would disagree with you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“It wasn’t me.I swear to God, it wasn’t me.”
Faith resisted the urge to roll her eyes.“We know.Detective Jenkins informed us that your alibi checked out.We’re not interrogating you.We’re just trying to understand why someone might have wanted Margaret Hayes dead.”
Faith and Turk were talking to George Norwood, the next-door neighbor who had called the police on Hayes.Faith had cleaned Turk’s bite wound and stitched it up with her first aid kit, then walked next door to talk to him after finishing at Hayes’s house.
George licked his lips anxiously and looked between Faith and Turk, almost as though he couldn’t believe they were telling the truth and didn’t assume he was the killer.The tall, overweight Norwood, who was now wearing a stained wifebeater and had more hair poking through the low cut of the collar than sat on top of his head, definitely looked the picture of drunk and disorderly but not exceptionally violent murder.
Jessica was still in the house.She insisted on being the one to look through Hayes’s computer, probably embarrassed from throwing up earlier.Jenkins was overseeing the evidence collection and sweet talking the coroner’s assistant who showed up to get Hayes’s body, hoping to charm her into moving it to top priority.Faith didn’t think he’d have to charm very hard to get that.
“I mean… she had that dog,” Norwood suggested tentatively.
“Yes, the fake service dog?”
He nodded.“Yeah.Big German Shepherd, biggest I’ve seen.Looked like him but younger and more muscular.”
