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The First Death (Columbia River, #4)(4)

Author:Kendra Elliot

That should work.

He took one last glance around the room and pushed the closet door farther open.

No boy.

He did a quick check of the parents’ bedroom, a guest bedroom, and another bathroom. Everything looked normal. The parents’ bed was unmade and the bathroom counter crowded with products. The guest bedroom looked as if it hadn’t been used in weeks. All the closets in every room were open. Probably opened by the officers as they cleared the house. Nothing indicated a struggle had taken place.

Except the body in the kitchen.

He clenched the bag and headed back down the hall and out the front door. On the sidewalk in front of the home, he spotted Rowan Wolff and her black German shepherd, Thor, as she spoke with one of the officers. The tall woman did a double take at the sight of Evan and then waved. Rowan had a stellar reputation for finding lost people. Evan had worked with her a few times, and there was no one he’d rather have on the case.

He joined her and the officer, holding out the bag. “Good to see you, Rowan.”

Her intense brown eyes were in work mode. “You too, Detective.” She immediately focused on the bag. “What did you choose?”

“Pajama bottoms from the floor near his bed.”

“Perfect.” She took the bag. “That the dad?” She nodded at the man still sitting in the back seat of the car. Now two officers were speaking with him, one crouched in front at eye level.

“Yes,” said Evan, taking a long look at the upset father. Geoff Jensen had salt-and-pepper hair and lines around his mouth. He looked at least twenty years older than the murdered young woman in the house. Once Rowan started her search, he planned to talk to the man. “There’s a path of child-sized footprints that lead from the back door of the home around to the gate on that side,” he told Rowan as he pointed to a corner of the garage. “Should be a good place to start.” He glanced up and down the street. Some neighbors were in their driveways, watching the scene. “I’m hoping Wyatt is somewhere in the neighborhood. The medical examiner says his mother has been dead less than four hours. I can’t see a five-year-old getting too far away.”

“You’d be surprised at the distance they can cover,” said Rowan. “But if he’s still close by, he’s most likely found a hidey-hole of some sort. All these strangers and police cars could be terrifying and stopping him from coming out.” A shadow crossed her eyes, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

Evan nodded. She was the expert, and he had full faith in her skills. Beside her, Thor sat at attention, his calm black gaze taking in the activity, his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth. He wore a red harness that said SEARCH AND RESCUE on each side. In the past Rowan had told Evan that when this harness was put on, the dog knew it was time to work.

A commotion pulled their attention. The father had stood and was trying to approach, but the two officers had each grabbed an arm.

“If that dog is going to look for Wyatt, I’m coming too!” Geoff yanked his arm out of an officer’s grip. “I need to search for my boy!”

Evan strode to intercept Geoff and held up a hand. “Don’t interfere with the dog and handler,” he ordered. “They need space to search.”

Geoff’s reddened gaze pleaded with Evan. “I’ve got to look. I can’t just sit here. My son is missing.”

“I know,” said Evan. “But unless you can tell us a spot where you know he would hide, you need to leave the search to us.”

The stricken man looked blankly around the neighborhood. “I have no idea,” he whispered.

“Does he have a friend that lives on your street? A home he’d go to where he’d feel safe?”

“No kids his age around here,” said the father. “We’ve only been here a few months . . . I can’t say that Wyatt would associate a particular home with safety.”

“Then sit tight.” Evan knew his words weren’t helpful. “We’ve got several officers knocking on doors, and someone from the FBI should be here soon.”

“FBI?” Geoff appeared stunned. “They’ll help look?”

“Missing children are an FBI priority.”

“Thank God.” His face crumpled. “Summer is gone. I can’t lose Wyatt too.” An officer gave his arm a gentle tug and led him back to the car.

Evan watched him for a moment and then went back to Rowan. She opened the plastic bag, and Thor plunged his nose inside, inhaling and snorting at the blue pajamas.

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