Chapter 5 - THE DOG WITH NO NAMEThe photograph was dated eight years earlier.
On the back were two words.
UNIT 47.
Reyes sent the image to a federal database.
Three hours later, someone called.
The German Shepherd had once belonged to a private security contractor.
His name had been Atlas.
He had been trained for tracking, search, perimeter protection, and missing-person recovery.
Then, six years ago, Atlas disappeared.
The contractor reported him stolen.
No recovery.
No body.
No records after that.
Until now.
Reyes stared at the photograph.
“It's him.”
I looked at Bear.
He sat quietly beside Lily.
For the first time, I noticed his collar.
It wasn't a normal collar.
Beneath the mud was a metal ring.
Engraved into it were tiny numbers.
My stomach tightened.
“Unit 47.”
Reyes nodded.
The mystery grew deeper.
Atlas had been trained by a man named Thomas Hale.
Thomas Hale had worked for private security firms, government contractors, and school districts.
His name appeared on contracts going back ten years.
Then Reyes found the strangest connection.
Lily's father had worked for Thomas Hale.
His name was Michael Carter.
Reyes asked me to sit down.
“Your principal told me Michael died two years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever meet him?”
“No.”
“Did Lily talk about him?”
“Always.”
He paused.
“Did he have enemies?”
“I don't know.”
Reyes slid a report across the desk.
Michael Carter's accident had occurred on an isolated road outside town.
The vehicle had left the road.
The brakes had failed.
A mechanic had later found evidence of tampering.
The original report said it was inconclusive.
Reyes tapped the page.
“But look at the signature.”
I stared.
The accident investigator was Daniel Mercer.
Mercer.
The maintenance worker.
The man who had access to the school.
The man who lied about being there.
The man who had access to Lily's classroom.
I stood.
“He killed her father.”
“We don't know that yet.”
“But you're thinking it.”
“I think Mercer knows more than he's saying.”
Before I could answer, the school alarm went off.
We ran.
Smoke poured from the basement.
Students were outside.
Teachers were accounted for.
Lily wasn't.
I felt my heart stop.
“Where is she?”
Mrs. Holloway pointed.
“Her classroom.”
I ran inside.
Smoke filled the hallway.
Bear sprinted ahead.
He stopped at a locked door.
Then slammed his body against it.
Once.
Twice.
The door broke open.
Lily was inside.
Crouched beneath her desk.
She was holding something.
A small metal box.
I pulled her into my arms.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Where did you get that?”
She handed it to me.
“It was in my dad's desk.”
“What?”
She pointed toward the back wall.
There was a small hole where the vent cover had been removed.
Someone had hidden the box there.
Inside was a USB drive.
A photograph.
A key.
And one handwritten note.
SARAH WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO.
I stared.
“Why does it say my name?”
Lily looked at me.
“My dad knew you.”
I shook my head.
“No. I never met your father.”
“Yes, you did.”
“What?”
“He came to school before he died.”
“When?”
Lily frowned.
“Three days before.”
My skin crawled.
“Lily, what did he look like?”
She opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
A noise came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Someone was walking toward us.
Bear stepped forward.
His ears lifted.
The footsteps stopped.
Then a voice came through the smoke.
“You should never have opened that box.”
Mercer.
Lily screamed.
Bear lunged.
But the figure outside slammed the fire door shut.
When police finally opened it, no one was there.
Only a yellow cap lay on the floor.
May you like
And inside it was a photograph of me.
Taken that morning.
Related Stories
