“I don’t know what the timeline for lost puppies is, but I know that for people, the first twenty-four hours are the most vital.”

“Lost puppies?” she echoed, clarity beginning to wipe away some of her grogginess.

“Yes. I woke up about an hour ago to find Bubbles missing. She’s not in any of the usual places, and she doesn’t come when she’s called. I need to set up a grid search—and I need to do it now—but I don’t have enough bodies. Will you come?”

“Um.”

“Please, Sophie.” His voice had never sounded so bleak, his expression never been so harsh. He’d also never looked so good. Maybe it was the dim lights of dawn peeking in through the window, or maybe it was the fact that he looked as honestly, openly human as she’d ever seen him, but the worried lines of his face touched something deep within her. “I know you officially graduated us, and that you technically aren’t responsible for her care anymore, but she needs you.”

He paused. “I need you.”

Those three words were all she needed to hear to click into awareness. She threw back her quilt and began tossing on whatever clothes were at hand. The result was a mismatch of knee-high socks, jeans that were two sizes too big, and a sweatshirt that proclaimed her the 2005 Northwest Volleyball Champion, but she didn’t care.

Harrison needed her.

Okay, so he needed her help with Bubbles, and nothing short of an emergency would have forced those words out of his mouth in the first place, but she wasn’t going to quibble over the details. Not when it came to one of her puppies.

Or when it came to one of her friends.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” she said as she led him out her bedroom door to the kitchen. Her mother was already there, wrapped up in a fuzzy pink robe and starting the coffeepot, which answered the question of how Harrison got inside. “When did you last see her, and what did you do after you left the Department of Natural Resources yesterday? Hey, Mom. Make it extra strong, will you?”

“Triple strength,” she promised. “Anything else I can do to help? That poor little puppy. She must be terrified out there on her own.”

Sophie took one look at Harrison’s expression—which had moved well beyond terrified to reveal a pale, tightly drawn frown—and laughed. It was difficult to get out in any sort of way that sounded natural, but she did it because he needed her to. “That poor little puppy is probably chasing a rabbit through the woods and having the time of her life. It’s Harrison we should feel sorry for.”