CHAPTER 39
Naomi’s breath caught. “What?”
Certainly she hadn’t heard her cousin correctly.
“The registered owner is a woman named Barbara Lynne Hayes,” Hadley told her. “The dog’s name is John. I did a quick search before I called you, and I found an obituary that says Barbara died of a heart attack about a month ago. There was no indication of what happened to her dog.”
Naomi’s pulse quickened. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I double-checked.”
Naomi’s mind raced. “So the man who picked him up?—”
“Wasn’t the registered owner,” Hadley finished, an apologetic tone to her voice. “I don’t know who he was, but he lied.”
The words hit like a punch.
Naomi’s hand tightened on the phone. “Hadley, we gave him the dog yesterday. He took him. Good Boy is gone.”
“I’m sorry. I should have checked sooner, but?—”
“It’s not your fault. But we need to figure out who that man was and where he took Good Boy.”
“I’ll send you the information I have on Barbara Hayes,” Hadley said. “Maybe you can track some of her relatives downand find out what happened to the dog. Maybe a family member took him in. Maybe that’s who this Arthur guy is.”
“If that’s true, he would have known the dog’s name . . . right? He said the dog was Roscoe.”
“I . . . I don’t know what to tell you—except that I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Naomi told her again. “Thank you for checking.”
“Naomi—be careful. If someone’s pretending to be the owner, there’s a reason. And it’s probably not a good one.”
They ended the call, and Naomi slowly lowered the phone.
Micah’s eyes found hers in the rearview mirror again. “What is it?”
She repeated the conversation to him.
Micah was quiet, but Naomi saw the tension in his shoulders.
“That guy wasn’t Good Boy’s owner,” he said finally. “He came to get that dog for some other reason.”
“But why?” Naomi’s voice rose as her mind raced through possibilities—none of them good. All of them involving revenge and leverage and power.
“I don’t know.”
Maybe there was even more to it—more they hadn’t discovered yet.
Naomi’s chest tightened. “We have to find him.”
“We will. I’ll get the details on Barbara Hayes. And I’ll run the plates on the guy who picked him up.”
“You got his plates?”
“I always get the plates.”
Relief flickered through her.
