Patrick hung up and redialed. With the phone wedged between his shoulder and cheek, he drummed his fingers against the wall, his impatience starting to show. His other hand fished his pendant necklace out of his shirt.

It was a sterling silver jigsaw-puzzle piece strung on ball chain like a dog tag. The puzzle piece fit together with the one around Alex’s neck, though hers was on a fancier necklace. She’d bought the set at the mall in Stark Peak. I remember the day she gave Patrick’s to him. I was inside reading Beowulf at my desk. I happened to look up and see them through the window. They were having a picnic outside. She opened the little jewelry box, presenting the fitting pieces to him like an engagement ring. They cracked up a bit about the whole fake proposal, and then she cocked her head like she did.

I could hear her voice through my open window.

“So, Big Rain,” she’d said, “what would you do to prove your love for me?”

Their old game. I’d seen them play it more times than I could count.

Patrick’s cowboy hat shadowed him across the eyes, but I could see his smile at the nickname.

She sidled up close to him, pendant in hand. “Would you cross raging rivers?”

“I would.”

She kept on, joking and dead serious at the same time. “Would you climb mountains?”

The Stetson dipped in a nod. His lips pursed, amused. “If they were between me and you, those mountains I would climb.”

Her face was flushed, and she was looking at his mouth. “Would you crawl through mud for me?”

“If mud needed crawling through to get to you, I would.”

Finally she reached up and hooked his pendant around his neck. Before she was done, they started kissing.

I closed the blinds. I was embarrassed and guilty to be spying on this private moment between them.

Or maybe it was something else.

Now in the alcove upstairs, waiting for someone to pick up, Patrick pressed the shiny puzzle piece to his lips. I don’t think he even realized he was doing it.

When Alex’s recorded voice came on again, he hung up and called the sheriff’s office. No answer there either. Patrick set down the phone a little harder than necessary.

“Pack a bag with some stuff,” he said. “We’re going to get Alex.”

Alex’s house was in town, a ten-minute drive.

“Why do I need to pack up?” I asked.

“Just in case,” Patrick said.

A few minutes later, with a change of clothes stuffed into my backpack, I met Patrick in the kitchen. He was stuffing cans of food into his heavy-duty hiking pack.

I set my own bag on the counter next to his and loaded in some dog food. He looked across at me, then said, “Good idea.”