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brown wrapping. Moving away like a drunken snail. Something was wrong here. “Gift from your dad?”
    “He handed it to me. Said he picked it up outside my door. I’m not sure where it came from.”
    Pike read Hope’s name and this address scribbled directly onto the brown paper. “You got any friends who are into practical jokes? Maybe it’s full of Mexican jumping beans.”
    But Hope wasn’t laughing. “I thought it might be from my brother overseas. He’s in the Marines. But there’s no APO address, country of origin or customs label, either.”
    “There’s no cancelation stamp, period. This didn’t come through the mail. If your dad didn’t bring it, then someone left it here.” Pulling his gloves from his hip pocket, Pike rose to his feet. “Let me get Hans out to check it before you open it.”
    “That’s not necessary. I...”
    But Pike was already heading to his truck. He pulled Hans’s leash from the front seat before opening the back door. “Hey, big guy. Want to go to work?”
    The familiar whines of anticipation were as clear as a verbal yes. Pike rubbed his hands around the German shepherd’s jowls and neck, reinforcing their bond and cueing his intention before he clipped the work leash to the harness between Hans’s shoulders. Pike rotated the dog’s collar so his brass badge hung in front of his deep chest. Then he patted the tan fur twice and issued the command to exit the truck.
    Jogging at a pace that gave Hans a chance to stretch his muscles, Pike took him in a circle around the perimeter of the parking lot before he tugged on the lead and slowed the dog to put his sensitive black nose to work. “Find it, boy. Such! ”
    Working in methodical steps along the building’s south brick wall and around Hope’s car, Pike let Hans sniff the ground and vehicle. This was a game for the dog. In addition to his security work, he’d been trained to search for certain particular scents, and once he found one and sat to indicate his discovery, he’d be rewarded with a game of tug-of-war with his favorite toy. If Pike led him straight to the box, Hans might not identify it as anything suspicious because he hadn’t had the chance to track the scent first.
    “There he goes.” Hans’s rudderlike tail wagged with excitement as he zeroed in on the trunk of the car. His breathing quickened and his nose stayed down as he picked up the trail of the mysterious package. “Find, it, Hansie,” Pike encouraged, repeating the command in German. “Such!”
    His black nose hovered over the package, touched the ground beside it. He whined at a high pitch, then jumped back as the package moved again. Hans was panting heavily now, more worked up with excitement than with the duration of the search.
    “What is it, boy?” The dog lifted his dark brown eyes to Pike and sat. “He’s not hitting on it like he does when there are drugs or explosives inside.” The dog’s high-pitched squeal indicated a degree of discomfort or uncertainty. “This is something different. I don’t think it’s anything dangerous or he’d let us know, but I’m damn curious to open it.”
    After tossing Hans his toy, and giving him a few seconds of play time to reward him for completing his job, Pike pulled his utility knife from his belt and flipped it open. “I’m going to go ahead and open it. Unless you want to?”
    With a cautious hand, Pike slit open the packing tape and peeled off the outer wrapping. As he set the paper aside, he turned his ear to a clicking noise coming from the tottering box. He leaned closer. Not clicking. Chattering. Shuffling, maybe. Oh, man. Was there something alive in there? Forgetting caution and feeling pity for whatever poor creature had been trapped inside, he sliced through the cardboard and pulled open the flap.
    “Whoa.” Pike landed on his backside as he jerked away from the bugs tumbling out through the opening in the box. Hans barked at Pike’s surprise as the insects poured