It moved past Clare first, nose low, tail steady, ignoring the open doors and familiar paths as if it already knew where it was going. It crossed the hall, passed Daniel’s office without a glance, and stopped in front of the guest room. Brooke’s room. The handler barely had time to give the command before the dog alerted—sharp, unmistakable.
The room filled with motion. Drawers were pulled open. Shoes overturned. A suitcase dragged onto the bed. When an officer pressed along the lining, the fabric gave slightly. A false bottom came loose.