My pup whines outside. Soon, sad yowls accompany him, back in the kitchen. Bushy, the big bully cat, drops a toy mouse at my feet and catches my eye.
“You miss Dolly, don’t you? Let’s see what I can do.” I grab three dirty t-shirts from the laundry basket, lay them on the rug, then sit cross-legged.
The smaller sibling, Skitter, kneads the clothes, and she butts my hand until I scratch her chin. Her brother crouches, claws out, ready to pounce.
“Come here, silly.” Reaching out, I pet him while I imagine all the ways his fifty-year-old owner could get waylaid.
Our cuddle time over, I grab the spa pamphlet, exiting the way I came to lock up. As I place the key under the pot, the military-trained dog snorts, his eyes on the street.
“Bear,hier.” On my command, the canine follows me up my back deck. In our dining area, a sense of déjà vu sends a chill down my spine. It disappears the moment Abbie glances up from her homework where she works at our kitchen table.
“Hey, Mommy. How’re the kitties?” Her sweet, toothless smile warms my insides while I tousle her dark locks.
“They’re fine. Did you finish your assignment?”
“Yup.” As she beams, she holds up her lined paper covered in the first five letters of the alphabet.
Axel puts down his spatula, joins us, then pulls me to his side. “Babe, any word from Mrs. DeClaire?”
Not wanting to upset my daughter, I shake my head, retrieve the brochure I took from Dolly’s junk drawer, and point out the dates. “She should’ve been home last night.”
My G-man lifts our Abigail from her chair. He kisses her belly before setting her on her feet. “Hey, Abs, wash your hands, okay? It’s almost time for dinner.”
Bear nudges my giggler into the bathroom to ensure his adopted puppy complies.
Once the grade-schooler skips beyond our earshot, Axel draws me closer. “Did the cat lady mention staying longer? Visiting overnight with friends or family?”
“No. She only left enough wet food for a few days. Frankly, I’m beginning to worry.” Turning to face him, I clasp my arms around his waist and bite his earlobe.
His deep, sexy growl strikes my clit. When I squirm, he kisses me before tapping the brochure. “Call that number.”
“I tried.” Plopping down in a chair, I open my laptop and tilt my screen.
When I log into the day-spa’s slick website, each forest picture is more spectacular than the last. “Well, this place doesn’t appear dangerous, does it?”
“No, but we could dive deeper.” He covers the frypan, leans over my back, then clicks on my keyboard until a satellite view of the address pops up. Unlike what we were looking at, this window shows only trees, no buildings.
My neck strains as I glance over my shoulder. “Perhaps the spa is new?”
“Yeah, or it’s a scam.” My scowling husband walks back to the stove, switches the knob, and lifts our veggies off the burner. “Didn’t she leave any emergency contact info?”
“Yes. I called her cell phone but nothing. She did warn me how the place is crazy strict about their tech-free rules.”
“You would go nuts.” He’s so annoying, I stick out my tongue.
Just because I’m nerdy, doesn’t mean I’m addicted. “It sounds delightful. So there.”
Glancing down the hall, he pulls me close and plunders my mouth. When we break for air, his calloused index finger drags across my cheek before tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “If she’s not back tomorrow, we can file a missing person’s report.”
His eyes, centers wide and dark, make me wish it was bedtime. Liquid pooling between my legs, I squirm. “I guess… Perhaps I can sleuth a bit more. She must’ve told someone, buthow would I know? Other than an occasional hello, I barely know her.”
After dinner, Axel studies my face, picks up his laptop, and places it on the clean countertop. “Alright. I can see Dolly’s absence bothers you. Show me the brochure again.”
My chest warms at my spouse’s support. Unlike my ex, this silver wolf is my rock. Once I point out the address, he plugs it into a custom FBI app to show me the results. “Here’s the LLC’s contact information. Why not contact them?”
A kiss on his deliciously soft lips later, I call the company.
Soon a woman with a thick accent picks up. “Tech Free Day Spa. How may I help you?”
