She frowned at her computer. “I’m not sure this is a crime.”
“Maybe not.” Susie sighed. “But it should be. This can affect a person’s livelihood!”
Hadley had already thought about that. Reviews like this could shut down her business before it ever really got off the ground. She’d invested everything in this—every last cent of her savings. The money from the sale of her house—split fifty-fifty with Ethan—and the small retirement she’d saved.
Hadley reached for her coffee, which was now lukewarm, and took a sip. Her unease remained.
Susie shifted and frowned at her. “Not to be the bearer of bad news, but there is one other thing . . .”
The muscles between Hadley’s shoulders tensed. “What’s that?”
“We keep getting calls today, but there’s no one on the other end. At first, I thought it was just a bad connection. But it’s happened a few times now. I even tried calling one of the numbers back, but the call didn’t go through. I don’t know what’s going on.”
Hadley set her coffee down more carefully than necessary. “Thatisweird.”
Before they could talk about it anymore, the bell above the front door jangled.
Her next appointment was here.
Hadley would have to think about this more later.
Another vehicle pulled into the gas station parking lot.
A moment later, Wyatt King—the youngest King brother—stepped out, his search-and-rescue German shepherd at his side. Thunder stayed close, alert and focused, his ears pricked forward as he took in the scene.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” Wyatt said, not slowing as he approached.
“Not much,” Sheriff Sutherland said. “Clerk saw her get pulled into a truck. That’s it.”
Wyatt’s expression tightened. “All right. Then we try this.”
Max glanced at the dog. “You think he can pick up a trail from here?”
“Sometimes,” Wyatt said. “Search and rescue dogs have tracked scent from inside vehicles before. Not always. Depends on how fast they were moving, how long ago it happened . . . a lot of variables.” He shrugged. “But it’s worth trying.”
Max’s chest tightened as he looked down the stretch of road disappearing into the mountains. There were too many directions they could have gone. Too many places to disappear.
They needed something. Anything.
Sheriff Sutherland reached into his vehicle and pulled out a folded shirt. “This was left behind at the house. Figured it might help.”
Wyatt took it and crouched beside Thunder. “Okay, buddy. Find her.”
He held the shirt out.
Thunder leaned in, sniffing deeply as his nose worked to process the scent. For a second, nothing happened.
Then his posture changed. His head lifted, his ears forward and his body angled toward the road.
Wyatt straightened. “He’s got something.”
Max’s pulse kicked.
Without another word, they began moving.
Thunder led, pulling ahead as Wyatt kept a steady hold on the leash. The dog’s nose stayed low, tracking along the edge of the pavement before veering onto the shoulder.
“Easy,” Wyatt murmured, matching his pace. “That’s it.”
