“I’m Liz Everhart.”
“I know.” Golda handed her a little silver box. Golda wasn’t much for chitchat. She launched into instructions. “Inside there’s a quartz crystal about three inches long on a split ring. It has a limited range of three miles and only has enough power to last twenty-four hours once you open the box. Don’t open the box until you get to the accident site. He’s a seventy-pound rescue and looks like a German shepherd–chocolate lab mix. He’llcome to anyone who calls him. Please find Rover.” She put her head down and sniffled. “I miss him. And I’m so worried he’s hurt.”
Liz shoved the rectangular box into her front pocket. “And when I find him? If he’s hurt, what vet do I take him to? And do you want him boarded?”
“The closest vet or veterinary hospital. And they can board him. I’ll be out in three days and can claim him then.” She extended a padded envelope. “There’s a picture of Rover inside, his favorite doggie chew, a package of dried roast beef, his leash, and—” She stopped. “And two thousand dollars.”
Liz’s eyebrows went up. “That’s more than we agreed on.”
“It’s also a down payment on vet bills and boarding. Your reputation says you’re honest and reputable. Just... please find him and get him to help.”
“I’ll do my best. How do I get in touch when I find Rover?”
“My cell was destroyed in the accident. You’ll have to email me, the same way I reached you. My tablet is my constant companion.” She patted a small device at her side, nested in a wheelchair pocket.
“I can do that and tell you which vet he’s at. Hope you feel better.”
“I’ll feel better as soon as Rover is safe.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Liz dinged Eli’s cell and walked out the door, dropping the mask in the special biohazard can at the entrance.
When Eli pulled up, she got in the SUV and he eased back into traffic. Liz opened the envelope. It had all the things in it Golda had said. She counted out the twenty hundred-dollar bills.
“Is half of that mine?”
“No.” She ruffled the bills and shoved them back in the envelope. “You get half a grand. The rest is for the vet bills and boarding.”
“So why are you frowning.”
“I don’t know. Something’s odd.”
“Odd as in we abort and go get a steak? Or odd as in we continue on, eat dinner in the mosquitoes and humidity, and hope snakes don’t crawl into your sleeping bag.”
“I’m not scared of snakes,” she said thoughtfully. “And I don’t have a feeling we should take the money back and quit. I don’t know what I’m feeling. Something.”
“Burger before we leave civilization?” he asked.
“I thought you only ate healthy.”
“I occasionally do stupid things. And enjoy them.”
Liz wanted to sayAm I a stupid thing you might still want to do?But she kept her mouth shut and smiled very,veryslightly. Two could play the guessing game. Liz had heard Eli’s last girlfriend had been a redhead, but otherwise, very different from her—a law enforcement officer who loved coffee and firearms. Liz didn’t drink much coffee, didn’t need firearms, and could take care of herself just fine without them. Liz just wanted things back like they had been. That meant admitting she hadn’t thought about parking and give kudos where they were due.
“I hadn’t thought about where I could safely leave the Subaru overnight when I took the gig. I guess I planned to leave my car on the side of the road when I hiked in. That was stupid. Thanks.” She had planned on Eli carrying the seventy-pound dog out overland and hadn’t thought about much else.
“You were hoping to find the dog close by,” he said mildly.
“Yeah. Still am. But scared dogs can run for hours. The crystal has a range of three miles. Rover could be anywhere.”
Thereafter they rode in silence, though Liz did look at his hands often. Dark skinned. Strange calluses, probably from weapons practice and fighting, a few white hairline scars, likely from the explosion that nearly killed him in Afghanistan. He was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt, camo pants with lots of pockets that bulged with stuff, and hiking boots that bore a strong resemblance to combat boots. She was wearing thin, water-wicking, water-resistant hiking pants and a tank top, and had stuffed a thin, lightweight jacket in the pocket of essentials. Eli’s wardrobe looked sturdy and hers looked like she was out for a walk with the kiddos. She wondered if she had brought the right clothes. Or the right anything. But she figured she had brought the right man. Eli Younger looked like he could handle anything she couldn’t, and she had more magic in her necklace than most other witches.
Liz
Sometime later...
Their driver from Mingo Falls was the taciturn vet named Chewy who called Eli “Hoss.” Chewy was a white guy with a beard thick enough for eagles to nest in, never looked at her, spit tobacco juice into a foam cup every few minutes, and played Merle Haggard over Eli’s sound system at earsplitting levels. When he pulled over on 441 at the obvious signs of a very recent car crash—skid marks, a bumper and car door still lying in the trees—Chewy looked up and down the road and said, “Position of this vehicle gives you adequate room to maneuver. Leave the doors open.”
Liz got out and started calling for Rover. Eli slung a small day pack around his shoulder, pulled out a pair of fancy binoculars, and began to scan the surrounding area.
