She turned the key and followed him across the lawn into the muck. Still holding moisture from the firefighters’ hoses, the ground oozed under foot and water soaked into her shoes. They would be ruined but discovering the reason for Bandit’s excited yips trumped destroying a pair of shoes. They climbed under the restrung crime-scene tape and found Bandit very near the victim’s location.
Bandit scraped the cone through ashes as he rooted around like a pig, his cone coated in muck. With each step, visions of finding the gruesome discovery assaulted her. No way she wanted to go closer.
She stopped short. “Come here, boy. You’ll get your stitches dirty.”
He looked up at her as if he understood, but remained in place to whine and scrounge in the same spot, upping his motions to frantic.
“He’s being stubborn,” Ryan said.
“Looks more like he’s found something and doesn’t want to leave it alone.” Mia carefully picked her way through the mess.
“I’ll get him.” Ryan moved past her, plopping his booted feet into the muck and splattering gunk everywhere.
As Ryan lifted Bandit from the debris and held the dirty little fella away from his chest, she searched the dog’s body for injury. He aimed his tongue at Ryan, but he couldn’t connect. Not with the cone circling his neck.
She turned to the spot where Bandit had cleared the rubbish. The tip of a small brown object poked from the ruins.
“That looks like a wallet,” she said.
“Wait. Must belong to the victim.” Ryan dug disposable gloves from his pocket. “Russ gave me an extra pair in case we needed them.”
Mia put on the gloves, retrieved the item, and held it up to Ryan.
“A man’s wallet.” Ryan locked eyes with her. “Let’s get out of this mess and see if it holds any ID.”
They retreated to an area of lush lawn free from standing water.
Mia ignored Bandit’s frantic squirming to flip open the wallet and remove the driver’s license.
She studied the picture. Her legs turned rubbery and refused to hold her. She dropped to her knees, sinking into the thick grass.
How could this be? Another person she loved dead. This one murdered and discarded like trash.
She sucked in gulps of air as panic ricocheted through her body.
“What is it?” Ryan squatted next to her.
Bandit wiggled free and yipped at the wallet.
“I know this man.” She handed the driver’s license to Ryan and rested her chin on her knees.
“Franklin Springer from Dunwoody, Georgia.” Ryan looked at Mia. “Isn’t that the PI friend that Wally hired?”
“Yes.” Heaviness settled into her brain, and her head filled with so much pain it might explode.
“I’m sorry.” Ryan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her.
She pulled back and peered at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. He wiped her tears with a gentle finger.
He was being kind. Nice. He’d proven himself trustworthy. She could get used to turning to him when life kicked her around.
But then what? Nothing. That’s what. She’d already decided she needed to be alone in life. Another death of someone close to her proved her thinking right. That was best. No way she’d open herself up for hurt again.
She eased from under his hand and stood. “I don’t know why I’m surprised to learn Fuzzy died. This is the kind of thing I’ve come to expect in my life. Everyone I care about either dies or turns on me.”
Ryan pushed to his feet. “I didn’t betray you.”
“Guess that means God will have to separate us in another way.”
