made those treats from scratch. Nothing was too good for Eddie.
Zach bent down and fondled Eddie’s ears, capturing the dog’s muzzle and looking at his sad brown eyes. “You’re my good baby, aren’t you?” he whispered in a singsong voice that he’d never allow anyone else to hear. Then, louder, “Work time.”
Eddie sprang to his feet, twenty-five pounds of get-up-and-go, primed for the search. If Violet was right, maybe her attacker had ditched the drugs somewhere when he heard the cavalry arrive. If there were drugs in the vicinity, Eddie would know it, thanks to his 220 million scent receptors and a ferocious drive to do his job. All that dog talent wrapped in an adorable package. Eddie was a rock star, in Zach’s view, even if he had a two-mile-wide stubborn streak. Just like his handler, Jordy had often said.
“Find the drugs, Eddie.”
The dog put his nose to the floor as they worked their way along the corridor. There was nothing of interest immediately outside the break room. Eddie snuffled along the corridor with that signature beagle trot and tail wag. They headed to the terminal, which the cops had temporarily closed. Irate passengers huffed and complained. He ignored them, easing Eddie through the throng. Another beautiful thing about beagles: they didn’t scare people like some other breeds of police dogs. Eddie was a goodwill ambassador when he wasn’t taking down drug smugglers.
Carter messaged him that they had still not located the first guy who had passed through security. He’d somehow vanished, leading Zach to believe he’d been helped out of the airport by the same crooked employee and possibly Violet’s boss.
Eddie sniffed, nose glued to the floor. Nothing. He shook his ears.
“Come on, boy. Anything?”
They moved on a few paces.
With a cheerful swish of his tail, Eddie waggled his way toward a cleaning cart. The custodian was about to empty a dustpan into the big plastic garbage bin.
An invisible shock went through the dog. Eddie tensed, tail erect, nostrils quivering. Zach could practically feel the animal’s excitement, or maybe it was his own. He tried to keep his breathing even as Eddie circled and sat, the perfect passive response signal. He looked up at Zach.
“Sir, can you hold up a minute?” Zach called.
The custodian jerked in surprise. “Huh?”
“I need you to stop what you’re doing for a moment.”
The guy nodded and stepped away from the trash can. Zach peered in. “May I?” Zach said, pointing to a box of rubber gloves on the cart.
“Knock yourself out.”
Zach pulled on rubber gloves and reached into the can, hauling out the brown leather jacket Violet had described and trying not to crow his triumph. Now he had physical evidence. There might be hair, prints, clues. Zach would bust the dirtbag who’d put his hands on Violet. It wasn’t as good as chasing him down and cuffing him, but it was enough for now.
The custodian’s mouth fell open. “Why would somebody throw away a perfectly good jacket?”
Zach put the pieces into place. Joe Brown was in a hurry, he’d heard Eddie approaching, a dog tracking the scent of the drugs, and he was desperate not to be caught. Eddie bayed long and loud. A sock peeked out of the jacket pocket, reeking with the smell of menthol rub. “He took the drugs out of his suitcase and dumped the jacket as a diversion when he ran,” Zach muttered.
The custodian whistled. “Ain’t that something. He figured your dog couldn’t track the scent of drugs because of the cold rub?”
Zach gave Eddie one of his homemade treats from a pouch at his waist. “He figured wrong.”
Zach waited impatiently for the airport officers to secure the evidence before he practically jogged with Eddie to find Violet. She looked more herself now, sitting in one corner of the employee room while Carter and the TSA supervisor interviewed her boss, Bill Oscar, in the other. He could tell by the tapping of her sleek pump on the carpeted floor that she was itching to confront the man herself. He went to her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course. He just knocked me over, that’s all. Did you...?”
“He made it out of the terminal, but we’ve got officers looking for him, canvassing bus and subway stations, alerting the taxi cabs, et cetera. We’ll get him.”
“What about the other guy? Bill walked him to security. I don’t know if he boarded or not.”
“Looks like he ran, too. We’re going over the camera footage. Don’t worry.”
She caught her lip between her teeth in that way that meant she was thinking. Violet was smart, so much smarter than he’d ever be. She’d been working on a college business degree in the evenings before her father broke his ankle last summer. Then she’d stepped in to help at the family restaurant, putting aside her college work for a while. Though her school was on a break for the next two weeks, she’d reenrolled in classes again, determined to finish this time. Smart, steel-tough, sassy, loyal as the day was long; that was Violet Griffin.
Bill finished with the officer and walked to them. “I am glad you’re okay, Vi. I was worried.”
A shower of sparks lit her eyes from coffee to caramel. “Don’t bother with the pleasantries. You let the guy with the braid bypass security and you would have done the same with Joe Brown if I hadn’t intervened. What gives?”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not. You misunderstood what you saw. I didn’t know that TSA agent was gonna pass him through.” He looked at Zach. “The guy with a long braid, acting shifty. I walked him to security personally. I figured he’d be scanned and detained if there was cause. That’s a TSA responsibility.”
“Just ID’d him from security footage. Roger Talmadge, goes by Roach. He’s got a rap sheet—petty stuff, DUI, possession,” Zach said.
Bill nodded. “I delivered him right to screening but there must have been something shady between this Roach and the TSA guy.”
“Yeah,” Zach said. “Agent’s name is Jeb Leak. At the moment, he’s missing.”
“See?” Bill sighed. “On the take. New guy. I should have suspected, but...” He shrugged. “Well frankly, I was preoccupied. The wife’s been sick, you know, and she’s got a checkup today to see how the treatment’s been working.” His forehead was creased with deep grooves. “She’s been in the hospital more than she’s been out.”
Though it looked as if her ire dulled a fraction, Violet was not about to be appeased. “What about Joe Brown? He had drugs in his suitcase. I saw it before he moved it to his pocket, and the chest rub was extra protection against the dogs.”
“I agreed with you. He was probably smuggling something.” Bill fixed her with a look. “Vi, you’re killing me. We’ve worked together for ten years now, and I didn’t want you involved if things were gonna get ugly, which is why I walked him there myself, just
