“Will do boss,” the young officer said, tipping her hat and pulling on the leash, “Come on Otis, let’s catch us a bad guy.” The dog obediently followed his master, excited, obviously loving the work he did, tail bouncing from side to side in anticipation of the hunt.
The pair entered the front door of the house, noting that nothing appeared to be in disarray. She led the dog around allowing him to smell everything that the perp could have touched. She gave him enough leeway on the leash so he could do his own exploring but not allowing him to take off on her. He moved from the living room down the hallway to the bedroom, stopping to take a minute to explore the doorknob with his sensitive snout. Entering the master bedroom he immediately went to the side of the bed where the thief had broken his toes. The dog issued a signal to the handler indicating that this was a hotspot, a strong scent there. He moved about the same room but kept returning to the side of the bed before moving into the hallway to explore the other rooms. He spent little, if any time, in the spare room, bathroom and laundry room, indicating to Officer Guest that the intruder had not entered these rooms. Otis trotted to the kitchen where he was frantic, jumping up and placing his paws on the sink area and smelling the dishes that were there, followed by a very close inspection of the table and elevated chairs. Lastly he stood by the back door smelling the doorknob and he began to growl, and then barks, in a low, deep tone that reverberated in Natalie’s chest.
“Good boy, good boy,” she said, scratching behind his ears. The dog sat and waited further instructions, his tail still going a mile a minute.
“Anything?” the Sheriff inquired, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Yeah, lots of hotspots, especially in the bedroom and here,” she said, pointing to the table and the sink. “I think he must have actually used the items that were washed and placed next to the sink. Do we have any word from the victim on any of this?”
The Sheriff pulled the picture from his pocket. “Nothing from the victim, but an absolute affirmative from the intruder,“ he said, turning the picture around for the handler to inspect.
“Okay, well Otis’s hit on the sink was accurate then. I know for sure that he entered the woman’s bedroom and must have sat down or kneeled by the side of her bed. Other than that it’s pretty obvious that he was in the living room moving the furniture and all, but I’m pretty sure that he didn’t enter any of the other rooms in the house. Otis didn’t hit on anything other than the three rooms and the hallway. I suspect as you said, that he exited the back door, Otis is really anxious to get out there and take a look.”
“Go ahead, see where it takes you, but don’t be a hero, if you need us send for help. Check your radio with base before you get too far away,” Angelo instructed, moving back to the front of the house.
“Hey Breland, you coming with us?” she hollered from the kitchen.
“Yeah, yeah hold your horses, I’ll be right there,” he yelled back, pulling a shotgun from the cruiser and walking quickly to the house.
The trio moved about the backyard catching another strong sign in the back corner where they could see the grass was matted as if someone had sat there. Otis thoroughly sniffed his way around the backspace showing particular attention to a section of the fence where the intruder had climbed over. Once they managed to find a way to the other side of the fence, the group took off at a run, as Otis bounded along the trail that led to the train tracks and beyond.
The sound of Otis barking, hot on the trail, was scarcely audible when the forensic unit arrived complete with their on site van. Sheriff Lupo filled the technicians in on what had been done and left it to them to scour the house for clues. He also turned the picture over to the techs to receive an ID number, and then tucked it away in his shirt pocket for further scrutiny back at the office. Confident that a deputy left at the site, along with the forensics crew, could handle anything else that needed to be done, the Sheriff and other law enforcement officials at the scene returned to their duties and the Sheriff contacted Natalie on his radio.
“Officer Guest, Sheriff Lupo here, where are you and what have you found?”
“We’re about half a mile northwest of your location moving through some fields that lie between some of the neighborhoods over here. It looks like he didn’t take a straight line back to his vehicle but he definitely avoided any lighted areas and did not come close to any other houses. Kept to the tracks, then fields, at some point he’s got to hit the blacktop, but not yet. We’ll keep you posted,” the officer said, trying to both run with Otis and talk into her shoulder microphone at the same time.
“You do that, if nothing turns up return to the office and issue a verbal report for me before you do your written,” he instructed.
“Affirmative, out,” she responded.
Once the house was processed the remaining units returned to their respective responsibilities and the search for evidence began in earnest. The Sheriff, as the head of the department, now had some difficult decisions to make. The processing of a crime scene can get expensive very quickly. Anything sent to the crime lab had a substantial bill associated with it, as well as, slowing down other investigations that may prove to be more important. On the surface, this and the previous B amp;E with Thelma, seemed harmless really, nothing taken, no one hurt, no damage to property, just seemed to be geared at scaring someone, and not at the time, but after the perp was safely away. Still something in the back of his mind told him there was something more to it than that, especially after looking at the malevolent picture of the thief eating his cereal. Weighing his alternatives he had his secretary call the press and arrange for a press conference the next morning, followed by a meeting of all pertinent officers, tech support, forensics and others that may have any impact on the investigation, to bring him up to speed on the crime. Based on that information and his gut feeling he would need to decide if it should be pursued beyond the normal bounds of a routine B amp;E.
The press conference had gone as well as he had expected, always had to be at least one reporter that tried to press for more information than they were willing to give. “Jackass,” he thought, thinking back on the exchange. He’d returned to his office long enough to get a fresh cup of coffee and allow a few minutes for all those invited to the investigative review meeting to make their way to the conference room. Sitting at his desk, a notepad resting before him, Angelo organized his thoughts and jotted down details he wanted to discuss with the group. Leaning back in the leather chair, he looked at the pictures arrayed on the wall, his father in uniform, medals decorating his left breast. Another of his wife and two children taken when they were much younger, but it still filled his large chest with pride when he recognized how blessed he had been. He understood that nothing was more important than family and he took his oath to protect all families within his jurisdiction as a sacred covenant. Once he was confident that everyone was assembled, he checked to make sure the picture taken from the Criddle home was in his shirt pocket, picked up his coffee mug, the notepad, and headed to the meeting.
Entering the room, a respectful silence replaced what was, a few moments ago, a circus atmosphere. Approximately 20 people were scattered around the long table that extended down the center of the room. Most stood, but a few were seated around the table, pens at the ready. Some were easily recognizable as troopers, uniforms with hats, but many were dressed much more casual, the support staff and forensics people. This was his extended family, the men and women that he loved to serve with, he knew within his heart that he would take a bullet for any of them, and they for him, if circumstances dictated. The Sheriff’s Department was a close knit, cohesive unit that had fused together as one over the past 10 years of his leadership, they knew he expected the best from each of them and wouldn’t tolerate bullshit of any kind. He both demanded and gave respect and praise when it was worthy. The members of the department anxiously awaited his direction.