"No, sir."
"Well, you say right here on your taped notes that you thought…"
So it's better to leave your thoughts out of it.
It's sloppy work to start thinking ahead of yourself, and anyway, there could be other explanations for the oily soot. If the wood inside the room didn't burn completely, it might leave that kind of residue, or there could be any number of petroleum-based products in the house quite innocently.
Still, there's that barking dog, which is really going at it now. And the bark is not an angry bark, either, not like a dog defending its turf. It's a scared bark, more like a whine, and Jack figures the dog must be terrified. And thirsty. And hungry.
Shit, Jack thinks.
He photographs the piece of glass, labels it and puts it into a plastic evidence bag he keeps in a pocket of the overalls. Then, instead of going into the house – which is what he really wants to do – he goes to look for the dog.
8
The dog probably got out when the firemen broke in, and it's probably traumatized. The Vale kids will be worried about the dog, and anyway, maybe it'll help them feel a little better to get their dog back.
Jack kind of likes dogs.
It's people he's not so crazy about.
Nineteen years (seven with the Sheriff's, twelve with the insurance company) of cleaning up after people's accidents have taught him that people will do about anything. They'll lie, steal, cheat, kill, and litter. Dogs, however, have a certain sense of ethics.
He finds the Vales' dog hiding under the lower limbs of a jacaranda tree. It's one of those little fru-fru dogs, a house dog, all big eyes and bark.
"Hey, pup," Jack says softly. "It's all right."
It isn't, but people will lie.
The dog doesn't care. The dog is just happy to see a human being and hear a friendly voice. It comes out from under the tree and sniffs Jack's hand for some kind of clue as to his identity and/or intentions.