Dog won’t stop barking at teacher — his instinct uncovers a chilling secret…

Poorly peeled. Underneath, he could see a barcode stamped. Davidson Correctional Library.

Kane stepped forward. Ms. Darla reached for something in her drawer. Ranger barked loud, sharp, final.

Kane pulled his sidearm. Hands where I can see them. She froze.

Her fingers hovered over what looked like a phone. He crossed the room in two seconds. Yanked open the drawer and found not a phone, but a burner and another folder.

Inside. Photographs. Names.

Dates. And one in particular. Maya Gibson.

Age eight. Asthmatic. Lives with grandmotherms.

Darla didn’t run. She just sat down. Slowly.

Like a show was over. You won’t stop it. She said quietly.

Even if you stop me. Kane cuffed her. You.

Said that dog would be your undoing, he whispered. Turns out you were right. Ranger stood by the girl’s photo, still growling.

Later that evening, Kane stood in the school parking lot. Maya’s grandmother had come to pick her up early. The two walked hand in hand.

The girl clutching Ranger’s neck in a goodbye hug. That made Kane’s throat tight. She never even talked about that woman, the grandmother said.

Just said she always smelled like perfume and made her feel small. She won’t come near her again, Kane promised. Back in the cruiser, Kane looked over at Ranger.

Every time we think it’s done, he said, you show me it’s not. Ranger rested his head on Kane’s leg. Outside, the first stars appeared.

But somewhere more names waited. And they weren’t going to find themselves. It was over.

At least that’s what they told themselves when Ms. Darla, a.k.a. Dana Winslow, the woman they’d been chasing across four states, was finally arrested and flown to federal custody under heavy surveillance. There were no more fake degrees, no more burner phones, no more aliases. Just one aging woman with a hollow smile, now facing enough charges to keep her behind bars for the rest of her life.

But for Officer Kane, closure didn’t come with an arrest. It came in the form of a quiet moment, watching Ranger doze peacefully, on the front porch, sunlight warming his fur after weeks of tracking evil through classrooms and playgrounds. You finally caught her, Kane said aloud, sitting beside him with a cup of lukewarm coffee.

Not me. Not the Bureau. You…