Colton's Christmas Cop. Karen Whiddon

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СКАЧАТЬ a trip out to the training facility so he could learn in person how it was done.

      As with any other kind of detection work, electronic storage detection training was done through scent. It turned out that thumb drives, micro-SD cards and external hard drives all contained two different chemical compounds, both of which dogs could be trained to locate.

      Goose had proved an apt pupil. Even though Labrador retrievers were considered the best breed for this type of work, Hunter had known his Goose was a natural. As she grew, she looked less and less like a typical basset hound. She had longer legs and a leaner body, and she was slightly taller and more agile. In other words, as far as Hunter was concerned, she was just perfect.

      Soon, she’d proved herself to all the other K9 officers in the unit. Goose and her nose had provided the crucial evidence to take down a large child pornography ring out of Sioux Falls. She’d been able to locate hidden computer evidence that might not otherwise have been found.

      And she belonged to Hunter, not to the K9 department. She’d been his from the beginning and he’d trained her on his own time, without costing them a cent.

      He adored her, and she him.

      “Come on, girl,” he told her, heading into the bedroom to change out of his uniform. Goose followed, her toenails clicking on the wood floor. He hummed as he changed, even though exhaustion made him want silence. He hummed because Goose liked it and she’d been alone with the quiet since he’d popped in earlier.

      Once he had on his comfortable sweatpants and a flannel shirt, he padded into the kitchen to make a quick snack. He turned on the TV, popped a beer and put together a bologna sandwich. The rest of the world might be sleeping, but this was the end of his workday and it would be several hours before he’d wind down enough to hit the sack.

      To his chagrin, he couldn’t stop thinking about Layla Colton. He’d known her for years, distantly. Even so, he couldn’t understand how anyone could legitimately believe she’d done what Mark Hatton accused her of doing. True, as law enforcement officers, they were trained to look only at the evidence, but what evidence they had seemed sketchy. The video might have been doctored. No doubt a competent computer analyst could make that determination. He’d have thought there would have to be more in order for charges to be brought against her.

      Clearly, she’d been stunned and shocked by it all. He’d been a cop long enough to know when someone was faking it. Layla’s bewilderment seemed all too real.

      At this time of the night, he didn’t much care what he watched, though if he found himself still up at 5:00 a.m. he tried to catch the local morning news. Stifling a yawn, he realized it was doubtful he’d be awake then, so he let the DVR record it just in case they ran a story on Layla.

      As often happened, he dozed off in his chair, Goose snuggled up next to him. When he opened his eyes again, the morning news program was in full swing. He started it over and wasn’t surprised to see news footage of the front of the Red Ridge police station. A perky reporter stood in front, bundled up in her parka, and laid out the charges that had been brought against one of the town’s wealthiest and most influential citizens, Layla Colton. Toward the end of the segment, she mentioned that they hoped to be able to interview others close to the case for later airing.

      Shaking his head, Hunter clicked the TV off. He stretched, let Goose out once more and stood on the back patio until she came in. Though the cold air usually provided enough of a shock to his system to wake him, his weariness felt bone deep. Stifling another yawn, once Goose ran inside, he followed, extinguishing lights as he went.

      When he climbed into his bed, Goose leaped up and curled at his feet. He covered her with her own soft blanket, scratched her behind her ears and then burrowed under his own covers.

      The sound of his cell phone ringing woke him. Whether he’d slept hours or merely minutes, he wasn’t sure. He sat up, rubbed his bleary eyes and fumbled around on his nightstand, trying to locate his phone.

      “Hello?” he rasped, wondering why he felt like he’d been run over by a truck.

      “Sorry to wake you,” Chief Finn Colton said. “But I need to talk to you about Layla Colton’s case. Since news of her arrest was plastered all over the news, I’m going to play it safe and recuse myself from the investigation, since she’s not only family but the mayor’s daughter.”

      “I understand.” Hunter struggled to clear his foggy head. Glancing at the nightstand clock, he saw it was nearly nine, which meant he’d been in his bed four hours. “Sorry, I got in late.”

      “I understand, and I apologize for waking you. But we’ve got media up here wanting statements, the mayor demanding answers, of course, and Mark Hatton’s attorney threatening to sue if we release his client’s information. It’s a cluster.”

      “Okay.” Though Hunter didn’t get what any of that had to do with him, he knew the chief would fill him in soon enough.

      “I’m putting you on the case.”

      “Me?” Flabbergasted, Hunter rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

      “Yes. All of the evidence in this is based on electronics—text messages, emails, etc. I think with Goose’s skill set, you might get to the bottom of this fairly quickly. While there apparently was enough evidence to bring charges, I took a look, and it’s on the light side. We need more. There must be hidden data storage drives or something.”

      “I have my doubts,” Hunter confessed. “Remember, I worked at Colton Energy. While I can’t say that I know Layla Colton well, I can tell you she never acted in any way other than professional.”

      “Good to hear,” Chief Colton said. “To be honest, I’m not buying Mark Hatton’s story, either. While I’m not sure of his motive, my gut tells me he’s lying.”

      “I agree.”

      “Pay him a visit and bring Goose. See what she can uncover.”

      Of course after that, there was no way Hunter could go back to bed. After letting Goose out and feeding her, he took a hot shower. Once dressed, he grabbed a pod and made a cup of strong coffee to go with his instant oatmeal. Thus fortified, he checked the weather forecast on his phone and suited up in his uniform.

      The instant he put that on, Goose started her happy, hopeful dance. She loved to work and didn’t understand why she didn’t get to every single day.

      “That’s right, Goose girl,” he told her. “I need your help today.”

      When she heard that, the little basset hound could barely contain her glee. She wiggled her entire body, swinging her head as she twirled and sending her long, floppy ears flying. She let out a low woo-woo-woo sound—her way of expressing her joy.

      As he grabbed his car keys, she stuck so close to him that he almost tripped on her. She kept her liquid brown gaze fixed on him, not letting him out of her sight in case he managed to somehow leave without her.

      Once he opened the door heading into the garage, he scooped her up and loaded her into his squad car. Even though her legs were significantly longer than a typical basset’s, she often had difficulty jumping into the back seat, even with a running start.

      Turning into the police station parking lot, he grinned when Goose let out a low bark—she knew exactly where they were.

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