Burke nodded. “Good.”
He turned and studied the greenway—houses on either side, the walking trail cutting through the trees, a stretch of woods left untouched between the lots.
Scout stepped beside him.
“If it were you,” he said, “where would you bury a body out here?”
Luke looked toward the houses. “Not near the lots. Too much construction since then.”
Jenkins pointed toward the woods. “Only place left untouched.”
Burke nodded once. “Start there.”
Jenkins gave Ruger the command, and the big shepherd dropped his nose to the ground immediately. Rosie moved ahead with Scout, working slower but just as methodically.
They spread out through the trees.
Leaves crunched under boots. Branches snapped. The dogs worked the ground back and forth.
Thirty minutes passed.
Nothing.
They pushed deeper into the green space, working along the edge of the walking trail.
Ruger stopped suddenly near the base of an old oak.
His nose worked the ground.
Then he circled.
Jenkins watched closely. “Luke…”
Ruger circled again and sat.
Alert.
Scout moved Rosie toward the same patch of ground.
Rosie lowered her head, sniffed once, then sat beside Ruger.
Scout looked at Burke. “That’s two.”
Burke stepped forward. “Mark it.”
Jenkins planted a small flag beside the spot.
Luke grabbed a shovel from the truck. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
They worked the soil carefully.
Six inches.
Nothing.
A foot.
Still nothing but dirt and roots.
