Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I was panting by the time I reached Mo and was quick to praise him. “Great job, Mo! Hold him there.”
Mo’s ears twitched at my voice, but his eyes stayed locked on the guy, his stance firm and watchful like he was guarding a vault of gold.
I cast a quick look in the distance, but the rain made it impossible to see too far. The vanishing guy had vanished again.
“Call your dog off, Pepper.”
I turned, hearing my name, and stooped down some to give Mo a pat on the head, his fur drenched, reminding me we needed to bring this to an end fast, and to finally get a look at the guy Mo had captured.
It was Damian Stone.
Damian’s scowl deepened as he glared up at me, rainwater soaking his face. “This is ridiculous. Call off your mutt.”
“Not until you tell me why you were in hot pursuit of a guy in my neck of the woods like you were auditioning for a crime drama,” I said, planting my hands on my hips after standing straight. “And Mo does not take well to being called a mutt.”
Mo confirmed with a low, warning growl, and Damian’s eyes flicked to him with a mix of fear and frustration.
“Fine, fine!” Damian snapped, holding his hands up briefly in surrender. “But I’m not saying a word until you call him off.”
“Okay,” I agreed, then warned, “but just remember, Mo can easily bring you down again. Mo, release.”
Mo didn’t move right away, giving Damian one last, hard stare before slowly backing off. His eyes never left him, though, and his body stayed tense, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.
Damian dragged himself out of the rain puddle with all the enthusiasm of a cat taking a bath. He flicked mud off his jacket with a grimace, glancing at Mo as if bracing for Round Two of Canine Wrestling Championships.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous, Pepper,” he grumbled.
“Yeah, you’re dripping with generosity,” I shot back, wiping the rain off my face. “But save the charm. We’ll talk inside.”
“For once, we agree,” Damian said.
Halfway to my cabin, Ian and Beau emerged from the trees like some rugged, handsome rescue team, decked out in rain gear. Ian’s sharp eyes locked on Damian, his jaw tightening like he was ready to brawl.
“Mo convinced him to talk,” I said, managing a soggy grin so he would realize there was no need to trade blows.
“You’re soaked—again,” Ian said and, to my relief, returned my grin and took hold of my hand.
I shrugged. “Hazard of the job. How did you know where to find me?” I asked, but then it hit me. “The tracker on Mo.”
Ian’s grin widened as we headed home, Beau making sure Damian kept pace with us.
By the time we reached the cabin, my dad was on my half-built deck with what looked like the entire Willow Lake police force, maybe not quite all, but close to it. Rain dripped off the plastic covering his sheriff hat, his glare sharp enough to slice through the downpour.
“What part of ‘don’t go after him’ wasn’t clear?” he barked.
I gave my most innocent smile, which, judging by his expression, didn’t help much. “I’ll explain everything. Just let us all dry off first.”
My dad grumbled something as he turned that sounded suspiciously like “trouble magnet” before waving off most of the officers. Josh was one of the two left and, of course, he had to smile gleefully at me.
Grow up, I mouthed, as he wagged his finger at me like we were still kids and laughed. Typical Josh.
Josh was instructed to follow me, Mo, Ian, Beau, and Damian to the garage where I handed Damian a mismatched outfit from the pile of “products to review,” while Mo got a thorough towel-dry and a dog biscuit the size of my arm for his heroic efforts. He followed me into the house, proudly carrying his reward.
My dad was waiting in the kitchen with the kettle boiling. “Tea to warm you.” He gave a nod to Mo, who had parked himself in front of the cold fireplace to enjoy his bone. “That’s one great dog you’ve got.”
“He sure is and you’re the best, Dad,” I said with a huge smile, hoping my truthful praise would soften his annoyance with me.
“We’ll see how you feel about that once I get done questioning you,” he warned, trying to suppress a smile and failing.
Ian was less amused when he joined me in the bedroom. “Two. You follow two men into the woods in the rain, Pep. Really?” He shook his head. “Not a wise move.”
“One of them plastered himself to my French doors like some creepy Halloween decoration and warned me of danger before taking off and Damian pursuing him, though I didn’t know it was Damian at the time. But I did know the Halloween decoration.”