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She ended up getting a needle and thread and repairing the tear herself.

She was glad to be walking, she realized. It loosened her muscles and helped with the stiffness, although the grazes still burned a little.

When she turned onto the street where the letters had been found, she almost turned on her heel and carried on down the high street.

Mrs. Carey and Mr. Morton were clearly in the middle of a furious argument, but in a very British way.

Both stood ramrod straight, looking down their noses at each other, with Mrs. Carey jabbing her finger at Mr. Morton’s garden every now and then.

Stiff upper lip, Gabriella told herself. Keep calm and carry on.

She approached the pair, and suddenly heard barking.

That sped up her step.

“Good morning.” She almost sang the words. “Is that the stray you were talking about, Mr. Morton?”

The two fell silent.

“Yes, it is.” Bob Morton sneered. “I don’t know where the barking is coming from, but this woman has already called the dog catcher.”

“Do you mind if I go into your garden to find it?” Gabriella asked.

Bob Morton looked like he wanted to say no, whether on principle, or because he just didn’t like people in his garden, but after a pause he nodded. “Yes. I’ll come with you.”

Gabriella followed the neat path to the back, and finally saw a little garden shed hidden behind some laurel bushes.

She thought the barking might be coming from beneath one of the bushes, but when she got there, she realized it was coming from inside the shed itself.

Without waiting for permission, she opened the shed door and the barking stopped immediately.

“Scotty?” she called softly, and crouched down onto her haunches. “Is that you, Scotty?”

A shivering, unkempt little dog belly-crawled to the door.

“You locked the dog up?” Mrs. Carey had obviously followed them. The outrage in her voice was real.

“I did no such thing.” Bob Morton turned around, equally outraged. “It must have gotten itself locked in there by mistake. It’s probably piddled and pooed in there, and who’s going to have to clean that up, I ask you?”

Gabriella gently lifted the dog into her arms. “Well, that solves both your problems,” she said to the two of them. “The owner will be thrilled to have Scotty found safe and well.” She paused. “When did you first hear the barking?” she asked Mrs. Carey.

“Tuesday sometime.” Mrs. Carey’s gaze softened when she looked at Scotty, who looked as woebegone as a dog could look. The little thing was desperately licking Gabriella’s hand.

That meant Scotty had probably been loose since Jerry went missing on Monday, and had somehow found his way onto this street.

Gabriella left Mrs. Carey and Bob Morton exchanging parting shots as she headed straight for Ruby Everett’s house.

When she knocked on the front door, Scotty gave a little bark, and both Ruby and Teddy Roe rushed to open up.

“Where did you find him?” Teddy Roe took the little dog with a crow of delight and they all went to the kitchen.

“He’d been accidentally locked in a shed on the road parallel to where I saw Jerry. Bob Morton’s shed, to be exact, Ruby. Mrs. Carey was getting revenge for the parking incident by reporting excessive dog barking to the council. I don’t know when he got locked in the shed, exactly, but she told me she heard the barking since Tuesday. I don’t think he was in the shed that long. Bob Morton thinks he hid in there and got locked in by mistake.” She set down her bag and slowly lowered herself into a chair, suddenly feeling like an old lady. The bruises and stiffness were making themselves known again.

Teddy Roe was getting water for Scotty and Ruby had found some left over chicken from dinner to give him, but she turned sharply to Gabriella. “Are you hurt?”

“A bit stiff and bruised,” she said.

“What happened?” Teddy Roe asked.