The peace shattered at dawn. A pair of city detectives arrived, their trench coats dripping with gray morning rain. They took one look at the massive pit bull guarding the glass and instinctively put their hands on their holsters. “Relax, detectives,” Elena said, handing them a fresh tray of black coffees. “He’s the one who brought her in. Walked right through the sliding doors with the victim on his back.”
The senior detective, a graying man named Vance, stared at the security footage on the lobby monitor. His jaw went entirely slack as he watched the grainy video of the raw-pawed pit bull collapsing to drop the child at the desk.
“Unbelievable,” Vance muttered, scratching his chin. “We ran her description through the missing persons database. Nothing came up locally, which means she was likely taken from out of state. But look at this.” He pointed a pen at the dog’s paws on screen. “That’s not city mud on his legs. That’s thick, iron-rich red clay. The only place with that composition is the old brickworks quarry three miles north.”