But he watched her like a hawk. “Don’t try anything.”
The security cameras.
He hadn’t noticed them. They had a view of this entire room. Surely, they’d gotten a clear image of him. Or did his baseball cap hide his face?
Regardless, she needed to get him out of here before he hurt the dogs—and before Quinn got back from her run with Sheba or Dree walked in.
When Tiny was in his kennel, she turned to face the man who was about to become her abductor. “My search-and-rescue gear is in the back of my truck.”
“We’ll take your truck then.”
She leashed Gizmo, fear leaving her queasy. If anything happened to him, she would never forgive herself. “Let’s go, boy.”
As she led Gizmo out to her truck, the jerk walking close behind her, she held onto one thought.
She still had her cellphone.
* * *
Dree heldher breath and tiptoed back up the hallway to the store, her pulse like thunder in her ears. She hurried toward the shop’s front door, but there was a bell on it. If she opened it, he would hear. Instead, she ran into the stock room and hid behind the shelves, fumbling to get her cellphone out of her pocket.
She dialed 911, whispering to the dispatcher. “I-I’m at the Scarlet Canine Care. You have to hurry! A man with a gun is kidnapping my boss and her dog.”
* * *
Conrad puton his best pair of jeans and his black cable-knit sweater and then grabbed his parka and the keys to his 4Runner. He drove to Food Mart to pick up a dozen red roses from the floral department, pulling over along the way to let a sheriff’s vehicle go by. It was running silent, lights flashing.
Something was up.
By the time he got to the store, doubt assailed him. Did Kenzie even like roses? Maybe he should get ice cream instead. He knew she liked ice cream.
But what would ice cream or roses matter if she told him to get lost?
He wouldn’t blame her. He’d told her that he was ending things because he cared about her, but that was bullshit. He’d been running—from himself, from the nightmares, from the truth that she’d laid out for him that day.
She’d been right. Hedidneed help.
He’d kept his promise to Megs and called Esri. She had offered to see him today during her noon meditation time. But he hadn’t been able to wait to see Kenzie, so he’d scheduled an appointment for tomorrow.
Truth be told, the idea of talking with a therapist—even Esri—terrified him. But what scared him more was the prospect of a life without Kenzie. He needed to unfuck himself so he could be the man she deserved.
In the end, he picked up a pint of cookie dough ice cream to go with the roses, paid, and drove straight toward her place. He’d just neared Bear’s roundabout when he saw several sheriff’s vehicles converged in front of Kenzie’s store.
Probably some traffic stop. Drugs. Maybe poachers.
He yielded to traffic, which was backed up thanks to everyone slowing down to stare, then turned onto her street and parked out front.
Her truck was gone.
Damn it.
He let out a frustrated breath. He would just have to come back tonight when she was home.
Maybe you should call first.
He had just restarted his engine when Deputy Marcs stepped out of Kenzie’s house wearing blue nitrile gloves.
What the fuck?
