A raspy meow sounded at his feet. He reached down to gently scoop his ancient tomcat, Danno, into his lap. The old cat kneaded his thighs, claws digging in. Wincing, Brody rubbed the orange tabby’s head. “Am I keeping you up?”

Danno butted Brody’s hand with his head.

“All right. All right.” Brody scratched the side of the old cat’s face. The purrs that sputtered from the bony body sounded as rough as a lawnmower engine that needed a tune-up. “I get it. It’s late and we should be in bed.”

The cat jumped to the floor, the sound of his paws hitting the wood surprisingly loud considering he weighed all of nine pounds. He trotted, loose-limbed, to the doorway and cast a Well? glance back at Brody.

“I’m coming.” He closed his file. The cat was right. Time for bed. His eyes were starting to cross, but he was taking tomorrow off and wanted to make sure he hadn’t overlooked a clue. He hadn’t.

His cell phone buzzed on the desk. He picked it up and glanced at the display.

Hannah.

His eyes went to the clock. Midnight. Alarm woke him faster than a triple espresso.

“What’s wrong?” he answered.

“I lost her.” Hannah’s voice was breathless, as if she’d been running.

“Who?”

“AnnaBelle. I lost Carson’s dog. She took off into the woods.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m looking for her.”

Unease pulled Brody to his feet. “You’re in the woods?”

“That’s where the dog went.”

Striding down the hall and into the kitchen, Brody tucked the phone between his face and his shoulder and reached for his jacket and keys. “Get back in the house and lock the door. I’ll be right there.”

“I’m not going back inside until I find this dog,” she said.

“Hannah, it isn’t safe to be running around in the woods alone in the middle of the night.”

“I assure you, I’m fine.” The sound of wind and fabric rustling came through the phone. She was out there moving through the dark. Alone. Vulnerable. Maybe vulnerable wasn’t the best word to describe Hannah. But she was alone, and that was enough to make Brody sweat.

“I’m on my way. I will help you find her. All right?”

“Yes.” Her voice hitched. Was she crying?

Hannah had taken on a thug to help a young girl, but the thought of losing her nephew’s dog undid her.

“I’ll be right there. Will you please go back into the house and wait for me?”

“How long will it take you to get here?” Her refusal to answer told him she wouldn’t.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll meet you in the backyard.” The line went dead.