Page 14 of Junkyard Dog

Jerry took a sip of his beer. “Probably nil. Why?”

With his phone to his ear, Max walked toward the exit. Alex poked his head into the kitchen. “I’m out!” he called to Thomas, collecting his keys and wallet from under the till as he left.

Max stood outside, a lit cigarette hanging from his lip and his phone tight to his ear. “I don’t know,” he snarled. “Maybe start with the place of the sighting and go from th—Yeah, I get that you have to cover the west, but… Well, you’re the asshole who told her about them, so yeah, you’re the asshole who’s going to go look. Yeah, I’ve had a few. Call me every time you hit the station.” He looked over at him. “Aren’t you working?”

“Thomas gave me the rest of the night off,” he replied, refusing the offered cigarette. “There a problem?”

“Probably not,” Max grumbled, taking a long drag. “Jonas let it slip that there’ve been a few more dog sightings this week, and now Chuck’s gone off on one of her save-the-animals quests.” He looked at his phone. “At midnight. Alone.” He ran a hand through his hair and dropped his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the toe of his shoe. “She’s probably fine.”

Alex’s stomach knotted.

Dog sightings.

“Want me to take a quick tour through the east end?” he offered, his feet already moving him toward his SUV. “I know the area pretty well.”

Max followed him as he opened the contacts list on his phone. “She’ll stick to the paved roads in her coupe,” he said, passing the phone to Alex. “Put your number in and I’ll text you so you have mine. Phones don’t work in the park, but if you loop around and see her…or don’t…I’d appreciate a call once you hit the highway.”

Alex entered his number quickly and leaned into the SUV to start it. “Last dog sighting?”

“Lower southeast quadrant,” Max answered, firing off a text to him. “Probably eleven miles from here as the crow flies.”

*

Charlotte scooted higheronto the trunk of her car and leaned against the windshield, carefully setting her flashlight down. “Here, puppy, puppy, puppy,” she cooed into the darkness, closing her eyes to give them a break. “Come on, boy. If I don’t catch you, someone else will. And they might not be as nice as I’m gonna be.”

Her stomach was the only growling response.

Popping another saltine into her mouth, she sat back up and resumed scanning the moonlit desert with her binoculars.

She’d been at it for hours, sitting atop her car and calling into the night for a dog that was probably miles away by now.

But it was better than sitting in a lounge watching her crush play tonsil hockey with the stunning woman she’d seen clinging to Alex’s arm at the Washout. The woman was supermodel-gorgeous and looked expensive.

“Show yourself, you damn dog,” she muttered, her mood souring again as she used her flashlight to scan the immediate perimeter for snakes and other nocturnal creepy-crawlies.

Popping another cracker into her mouth, she froze when her ears picked up the yipping of a coyote to the south. Sliding the rustling saltine package away, she cocked her head as other coyotes joined the chatter from all directions.

The southern yipping stopped abruptly, replaced by a long, low howl. Every coyote in hearing distance joined in, their voices spreading through the park. She eased herself onto the roof of her car and slowly scanned the peaks and valleys of the terrain as the southern howl morphed into a territorial growl, silencing the others instantly. Lifting her binoculars back up, she zeroed in on a movement over the ridge three hundred yards southeast.

Rabbit.

A fast rabbit.

“Dammit,” she whispered, fumbling her binoculars and cursing when they hit the ground.

*

One brave, orstupid, coyote let loose another call into the night air and Alex lifted his nose to the sky to snarl a warning until quiet returned to the park.

He’d run the terrain for well over an hour, his SUV, clothes, and cell phone a good thirty miles away by now. With no sign of Charlotte near the Lost Horse Mine trail, he had ventured farther east toward the Keys, sticking as close to the paved roads as he could without being seen by a wayward tourist or determined hiker.

“Dammit.”

His ears perked up when Charlotte’s familiar voice carried on the breeze, stilling and listening as something thumped to the ground eight hundred yards to the north. The rockier terrain slowed his progress as he maneuvered toward the sound, his nose finally picking up her scent when he reached the apex of a ridge.

He sat and watched, unnoticed, as she slid off the hood of her small car and bent over to retrieve something. Cocking his head, he let out a snort of appreciation for the view, raising his ears when she jumped in surprise and spun toward him.

“Oh, my g—” she breathed, taking a step forward and zeroing in on him. “Woah. You are a big boy, aren’t you?”

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