Jack had Hen read the notes she’d taken over the phone with the county coroner from the preliminary findings. Sharing this information before the formal report was done was not common practice unless you were a detective in the police office down the street from her office. The only reason she’d been inclined to share things that might be pertinent to the early investigation with a team an hour away in a town some 2000 feet above her was because Hen was her ex-sister-in law and whom she liked better than her own brother. The lab tech down there either wasn’t as kind or the tests would actually take several more hours before we would know what killed the dog. Hen had confirmed her suspicion about an injection with the coroner after describing what she’d found.
We stood with our hands in our pockets (lame attempts at keeping them…
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