“A warrant? That really necessary?” My breath became lodged in my throat and my stomach did a few somersaults.
A warrant.
“Not as long as you’re okay with it. I promise we’ll try not to disturb your property. We need permission for the cadaver dogs to search,” Sergeant DelGrande explained.
Cadaver dogs.
“You really think someone had enough time to kill my tenant and bury the body, too? That seems a little far-fetched, you know?” We were standing on my front porch now, my mind still back at the barn. Specifically, it was stuck in the hidey hole with my husband’s rotting corpse inside. Cadaver dogs.
No way could I let them search my side of the property, but if I refused, then they’d just get that warrant.
“We didn’t find anything to indicate that a body was buried on the property, but there was a small hole, a couple feet deep near an elm tree in the woods behind the cabin. We’re willing to give the dogs a try even if they can’t produce results. We’re trying to find out what happened here, Clara. A little girl’s life could be at stake.”
“I don’t understand. How’s it work?” I asked, my voice coming out shakier than I wanted it to.
“The dogs are attracted to chemical compounds, particularly putrescine and cadaverine. When someone dies, they release chemicals in the air…well, you don’t need to know all that. But, my point is, the dogs pick up on the smell of death. Even if there’s not a body around, they’ll react if a death occurred in a certain place and we need to know if it did. The dogs can find the tiniest things, small bones or even bits of tissue…and we need something to go on.” Sam cleared his throat and went on, “Most likely, if the dogs do react, it will be inside the rental house. That’s where the teeth were found. That’s where the struggle most likely occurred. But, since you’re the owner of this land and the cabin on it, I must have your permission,” he further explained.
“So, you won’t disturb my side of the land, the farm or my house, that right?”
“Not unless the dogs pick up on something, and surely, they won’t pick up on anything here.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, I could tell he wanted to reel them back in. He covered his mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry, Clara. I’m such a moron sometimes. I didn’t even think about…about…”
“Annie. My daughter’s name was Annie,” I said, my mouth twisted up with pain. I don’t know what it is with people and death—it’s like they’re afraid to say her name, or to bring her up to me. But that part hurts even more. She was my daughter and it kills me that I don’t get to talk about her.
“Annie, yes. And she’s buried on the property, over by the marker you were sitting at earlier, correct?”
I nodded stiffly. “Annie died near the barn. Right by it. Her grave’s only a few yards away from there. I will let the dogs come if it will help that family, but I don’t want them anywhere near Annie’s grave or the barn. Can you make sure of that, Sam? It’s where she died…it’s her final resting place…I just don’t want it disturbed, is all.”
“I’ll talk to the dogs’ handler and make sure he knows that those areas are off limits. It’s been so long since Annie’s death, that I doubt they’d be able to pick up on the scent of…”
“Her corpse,” I finished for him, with a bitter trace in my voice.
Sam squeezed his lips together. “Yes. I think they are usually better at finding fresh bodies. So, you’re okay with this then?”
Suddenly, he reached out and squeezed my hand. The gesture felt odd, and strangely, painful. I fought the urge to yank my hand away from him.
“They’ll be here in about an hour.” Sam tipped his hat in an old-fashioned gesture, then turned to go.
“Can I ask you something else? Why aren’t y’all going after the husband? It’s usually the husband, you know?”
“Oh, we are. A few of my officers are in Granton right now searching the husband’s place. If he’s guilty we’ll find out soon enough, but we need to process this scene properly, too.”
I nodded, a rush of relief rolling through me. As I watched his police car back out and disappear down the steep mountain road, an odd sense of calm washed over my body.
If they find Andy’s body, then so be it. There’s nothing I can do at this point. I might go to prison for killing him, but I feel like I’m living in prison already.
And if going to jail was the price I had to pay, then I could live with that. Because what happened to Annie couldn’t be undone. It was too late to save my daughter. The least I could do was help Lily Nesbitt.