Corner Pieces

Prologue Missy Like a quartet of dirty tornados chasing but never quite catching the tires, billowing swirls of dust rose from the ground and merged into a roiling cloud behind the distinctive game-and-fish green pickup. To either side of the bone dry road, stubbornly clinging to the last few handfuls of crumpled brown leaves, stands of oak skirmished along a ragged front with encroaching pine thickets. Thirty days after the first hard frost, retreating understory granted glimpses of a forest floor not seen for months. Jesse Hackett couldn’t have been happier. He had spent his childhood hunting and fishing with an extraordinarily longsuffering father and younger brother. Hung in a never-ending loop, memories of innumerable family vacations and camping trips comprised the highlight film of his life. It had been his dream to become a wildlife officer. He looked forward to getting up in the morning and going to work. Other than putting on a uniform, there was little difference in how Jesse spent his days on duty as opposed to his days off. It was only by chance that he detected motion out of the corner of his eye and several seconds before it fully registered that something seemed out of place. Shifting his foot off the gas and gently onto the brake, with all due respect for the ice-like repertoire of surprises meted out by loose gravel, he hastily looked back over his left shoulder trying to establish some sort of landmark. As the truck finally slid to a stop and then slowly reversed, early morning cobwebs began to clear, along with the dust, and the anticipation of another twenty minutes of peaceful commuting to a remote boat landing was momentarily forgotten. For a while, it seemed his mind may have been playing tricks. Then, amidst a damp drift of fallen leaves, something did indeed move. As Jesse stepped out of the truck to investigate, that something began to resolve itself into a tan and white Jack Russell Terrier puppy. Shivering noticeably, head down and tail tucked, it warily approached to within several feet and then hesitated. “What’s going on little missy … what are you doing out here all by yourself in the cold? You’re not lost, are you?” That is all it took. Bolstered by a friendly voice and a smile, the pup lunged into Jesse’s arms, shoving her cold wet muzzle inside his coat while eagerly scratching for a foot-hold with muddy paws. Jesse snorted in disgust at his own soft-heartedness as he turned and half tossed the grimy little mutt across the truck cab into the passenger side foot well. Landing lightly on her feet like a cat, she immediately located a warm spot just in front of the floor heater vent and made herself comfortable on a pair of crumpled waders. The rigors of that night were instantly forgotten. Life was now good. Jesse suspected the pup was local. Although people regularly dumped unwanted cats and dogs all over the county, it was rare for someone to abandon a puppy, even more so a popular breed. There was a mobile home a quarter mile or so back. If the dog wasn’t theirs, perhaps they would know who it belonged to. Already an hour late because of a boat motor that seemed to have sprouted legs and walked away from maintenance, a few more minutes one way or the other was unlikely to make much difference in the grand scheme of things. It took several cuts back and forth across the road, all the while warily watching for the appearance of oncoming traffic out of the next curve, to turn the truck around. While he was distracted, the puppy hopped up on the seat and poked her entire head into his lunch sack. “Get out of that … that’s not yours.” The hungry pup dodged a half-hearted slap and hopped back down to the floor with a mouthful of mayonnaise-slathered lunch meat stripped from a sandwich. “OK. I know … you probably didn’t eat last night and I did. But stay out of the cheese puffs.” The man smiled and shook his head. The dog grinned and wagged her tail. For a few more minutes, at least, there continued to be peace on Earth. A little unusual for an hour after sunrise, there was no sign of activity as Jesse pulled up beside a car and truck casually parked on rutted patches of bare ground in front of the trailer. It’s always a good idea to make a little noise approaching an isolated country home. Depending on why someone might have chosen that kind of existence, it was also the safe thing to do. Jesse slammed the truck door, crunched through several mounds of dry leaves and walked heavily up three steps and across a small wood-floored porch, while coughing and clearing his throat, before knocking on the front door. There was no answer. He knocked again, and waited. Not a sound came from inside. No movement, no voices … no angry cursing at being disturbed. “Anyone home? Hey! Game and Fish, Officer Hackett.” Continuing to advertise his presence by tapping on the siding, Jesse started around the near end of the trailer looking for any reasonable explanation that would allow him to break off the impromptu investigation and continue on his way. The presence of a small dog house to one side of the back steps was encouraging. On a hunch, he backtracked to the truck and opened the passenger door. Sure enough, the pup immediately hopped out, scampered around back and began licking at a layer of ice sealing an obviously familiar water dish. “You’ve had breakfast and now you need a drink. Let me help you with that.” Jesse fractured the ice with the heel of his boot and tossed the larger chunks aside. Again wagging her tail in appreciation, the little dog lapped water for a full minute. She was home, fed and watered. It crossed his mind once again to just leave her and go. Continuing past the steps, he peered cautiously through a double window into a now sunlit family room cluttered with evidence of small children. Tightly closed blinds completely filled the next window. A crack in the curtains guarding the last window allowed a glimpse of two adults, a man and a woman, in bed. Jesse stepped back for a minute to ponder his options a final time. His better judgment again lobbied for retreat … tip toe back to the truck and vamoose as quietly as possible. It was going to look really bad if he ended up being shot as a peeping Tom. But by this point, he felt committed. Ready for the dilemma to be resolved one way or the other, he stepped back up to the window and banged directly on the glass. They didn’t move. He shouted. There was no response. From a distance of no more than four feet, focusing intently on the exposed chest of the man, breathing was not detectable. Jesse’s hand unconsciously dropped to his service pistol as he briskly continued his circuit around the far end of the trailer and back to the truck. He notified dispatch of the situation. Dispatch rolled every law enforcement and emergency response agency in that sparsely populated part of the world. Within twenty minutes, there was a traffic jam, at least by local standards, on Harris Road eight miles north of the intersection.