She cast him another glance, a smile curling her lips. “Sorry if it seemed like I was pressuring you to make dinner earlier—and to play Quirkle. Sometimes my mouth activates before my brain.”
“It’s not a problem. In fact, I’d love to do that. I can grill a mean steak.”
“I love steak.”
His gaze held hers. “Then I’ll make one for you sometime.”
She grinned. “I’ll look forward to it.”
His gaze remained on her another moment. Hadley was everything good and pure in the world. He would only tarnish that.
Before either of them could say anything else, headlights swept across the front window, and tires crunched on the street below.
Sheriff Sutherland was back.
Max straightened and reached for his jacket. “I’ll go help him.”
“Of course. And thank you. For checking the apartment. And for everything else. It really means a lot.”
Max paused at the door. “Lock up after me. I . . . I just need to know you’re safe.”
Her smile faded.
He hated to make her feel uneasy. But safety suddenly felt like something elusive and just out of reach.
CHAPTER 14
Max paced downthe row of kennels, clipboard in hand, checking each latch and water bowl the way he did every morning. Routine kept things steady and predictable.
It also kept him from thinking too much about everything that wasn’t.
But even as he worked, his mind refused to settle. It kept going back to Lyndee.
Had she really climbed that fence on her own? Or had she been pushed into doing so—cornered until leaving felt like the only option?
He’d seen that text on her phone. It seemed like a threat.
Sheriff Sutherland was still working on finding answers. Max knew that. Even if progress was slow, it was still progress.
Max still hadn’t been able to reach Stephen, but he would keep trying. Though he dreaded telling his friend the news, Stephen deserved to know.
Then there was Hadley.
The shattered window. The reviews. The calls. Too many things were happening at once to be coincidence.
Max didn’t like the feeling that something—or someone—was circling closer.
He reached Juno’s pen and paused.
The dog lay coiled around her puppies, her body relaxed and her breathing steady. The small cluster of chocolate-colored bodies snuggled close to her.
At least something was going right.
He crouched near the edge of the pen and watched them.
The innocence of the puppies eased something in his chest.
Puppies didn’t discriminate. They didn’t judge. They only knew that if someone took care of them and fed them they were loved. They gave their loyalty and devotion in return.
