The final object was a small metal box sealed with a rusted lock. The officer glanced at the inspector, then gently pried it open. Inside lay a cloth pouch, a strip of old film negatives, and something wrapped in oiled paper. The group leaned closer. Even the dog held his breath.

The officer unfolded the paper and went still. He compared a photograph from the bundle to a picture on his phone, then spoke quietly into his radio, using words like recovered and confirmed. The neighbor whispered that her grandfather used to talk about hiding things underground during hard times, “just in case.”

The truth was both simple and astonishing. The metal box contained evidence from a string of unsolved garage thefts from the previous year and something far older. At the bottom rested a velvet case holding two wedding rings and a Purple Heart medal, both reported missing in the neighborhood decades ago. The map and photographs matched every return address nearby.

Authorities had searched everywhere above ground, but the answer had been buried just three feet below the fence line. The neighbor’s dog, trained to find hidden toys, had followed the faint scent of metal and uncovered what no one else could. Families got their lost heirlooms back. The cases were finally closed. And one muddy dog went home with a brand-new tag engraved with the words, “Finder of Lost Things.”