Page 89 of Still Afraid

They strode into the living room and greeted Chloe’s parents and Jesse.

A delightful scent floated through the air. “What smells so good?” He gave Bonnie a hug.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to your baking ingredients.”

“Not at all. It smells amazing.”

Lance gave Bonnie a hug too. “I hope there’s enough for me too.”

“Of course. You know me.”

Lance chuckled. “What’s with Poirot?”

Josh turned to see Poirot sitting at attention in his new favorite spot. “He’s decided he loves that very spot all of a sudden.” Josh patted the side of his leg. “Come, Poirot. Let’s get you some food.”

Poirot barked and trotted to the kitchen. He was especially grateful now that Gabe and the detectives had helped Josh clean up the broken glass and board up the door before heading to the farm.

After Josh filled Poirot’s bowls and poured himself a cup of coffee, he joined the others in the living room. He flopped in the chair he’d hidden behind when the intruder had invaded his house.

Aaron. The intruder had been Aaron. Josh’s gut twisted in on itself. “I can’t believe it was Aaron.”

Troy sat forward with his forearms resting on his knees. “I wish I could say the same. He’s been fighting trouble for a long time.”

Jesse nodded. “I’m not surprised either. He was only eleven when Owen died, and he took it pretty hard.”

Bonnie said, “It was more than that. He was close with Owen’s younger brother, who fell into an emotional black hole and took a few buddies with him. They’d already been such good friends, from good families.”

Jesse raised his index finger. “And then you add middle school on top of it. Homeschooled or not, those are awkward years. And everyone in our circle was grieving.”

Poirot wandered back into the room. He sniffed over by the shelf and then again sat at attention.

What a strange dog.

Lance called him over. He seemed content while Lance petted him.

Troy said, “I wish I knew what was going on in Aaron’s head right now. Why would he put his sister in danger? That’s not like him.”

Lance stopped petting Poirot, and Poirot went back to his favorite spot and sat. “Josh, that’s not normal behavior for Poirot.”

“He’s been loving that spot for the last week.”

“But he’s alerting. He smells something.” Lance stood.

“You sure?” Josh joined Lance and walked over to Poirot. “What do you smell, buddy? Show me.”

Poirot sniffed under the antique secretary, barked, and sat at alert again.

“I gotcha. Move, boy.”

Lance helped nudge Poirot out of the way, and Josh got down on the floor and looked under the secretary.

“I don’t see anything.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his little flashlight, pointing it under the piece of furniture.

A zipper pouch. One of Chloe’s from her SAR pack.

Josh reached under, his arm barely fitting, and grabbed the bag. Once he had it out, Poirot sniffed the five-by-seven pouch, barked, and sat.

What could possibly be in the pouch that would make Poirot alert? Josh unzipped the bag. A plastic package of a white substance was inside. Drugs. Josh didn’t know what kind, but he knew enough to recognize it was an illegal substance.