Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 by Karen Whiddon (good e books to read txt) 📗

Pouring a bowl of dog food and setting it on the floor, Carly went to make herself coffee. The sight of the wooden carving on the kitchen counter made her stop short. Micha had carved Bridget, capturing not only the boundless joy with which the dog faced each day, but the adoration that shone from her big brown eyes.

Reverently, Carly reached out and picked up the piece. She smoothed her fingers over the highly polished wood. Her throat stung and tears pricked at her eyes. Micha might believe his carving to be only a hobby, but the soul of an artist came through. Older children might collect these pieces, but she’d bet adults would, too.

Carrying the figurine with her, she made her coffee and took it and Bridget outside to the backyard. Though she had to be at work in a few hours, she’d gotten up early enough that she had a little bit of time before she had to get ready.

Micha joined her before she’d made it halfway through her first cup. The back-door hinges squeaked as he slipped up behind her, putting his arms around her and holding her close. As always when he touched her, her entire body melted.

“Thanks for the figurine. It’s beautiful,” she said.

“My pleasure.”

She fought the urge to turn around and convince him to go back to bed with her. Instead, she decided to finally ask about one of the things that had been bothering her since he’d showed up alive rather than dead. From what he’d told her in the past, she knew it would be a sore subject. Maybe that, too, had changed during the time he’d been in the hospital. Nearly dying had a way of changing perspective sometimes.

“Do your parents know?” she asked softly. “That you’re alive and in Chicago?”

He stiffened, though he didn’t move away. “I don’t know,” he finally replied. “I didn’t contact them, if that’s what you mean. My father made it very clear that he no longer considers me his son.”

While Carly had never met Micha’s parents, she had to assume that they, too, had grieved greatly upon being informed of his death. Suffering and grief had a way of changing things, especially words said in anger.

But she wouldn’t push, not now, not yet. She’d give Micha time to consider on his own.

So instead of responding, she slowly turned around and gave him a deep, lingering kiss. As she’d known it would, heat instantly erupted between them. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they made out as if they’d been apart for days instead of just having climbed out of the same bed that morning.

Finally, Carly came up for air. She glanced around her backyard and went still. Something was wrong. Her yard appeared empty.

“Where’s Bridget?” she asked, trying to quell the rising panic. “Bridget!” she called, adding a whistle. “Bridget, come.”

But her dog didn’t reappear. A lightning bolt of sheer terror stabbed Carly in the heart. Somehow, Bridget had escaped the yard. She was gone.

For a second, Carly froze, unable to think or move. Then she ran down the steps, refusing to believe what her own eyes told her. Bridget had to be here somewhere, maybe hiding near the shed again.

With Micha right behind her, Carly combed every square foot of her yard. She looked behind bushes, even those that were logically far too small for Bridget to hide behind. They both checked and the gate was still closed. Together, she and Micha searched the shed, even though she’d blocked it off. Bridget wasn’t there.

Refusing to give in to her rising panic, Carly sprinted over to the garage and yanked open the door. Even though she knew there was no way the dog could have gotten inside, Carly looked, anyway, calling Bridget’s name.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice shaking as she blinked back tears. “There’s no way she could have gotten out of the yard. I checked the fence and there aren’t any holes. The gate is still closed.”

“That’s weird. Are you sure you didn’t leave it open?” Micha asked, frowning.

“Yes.” Puzzled, she eyed him. “Why? Do you think someone opened it and deliberately let Bridget out while we were standing just a few feet away?”

He didn’t have to respond verbally. His thoughts were written all over his face.

“You think someone took her?” Heart pounding, knees weak, she stared at him, silently begging him to contradict her.

“How else would she have gotten out?” he asked instead.

“But why? Why would anyone want my dog?” But the instant she spoke, her heart sank and she knew. “The same person who blew up your rental car and shot out my front window.”

Micha didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached for her, no doubt intending to offer comfort. Suddenly furious, she dodged him. “Why? Why would anyone want to harm an innocent dog?”

“Carly, first off we don’t know for sure that’s what happened to Bridget,” he cautioned. “Let’s recheck the fence again. Maybe she found a hole somewhere and simply got out.”

Though worry made her feel queasy, she took a deep breath to calm herself down and nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Good.” He pointed. “You start on that side and I’ll start over here. Check every square inch, even behind bushes.”

This time, instead of being in a frantic rush, she went slowly. In the overgrown areas, she got down on all fours and checked behind the shrubs, looking for any gap in her fence.

“I found something,” Micha called. “Come see.”

Heart in her throat, she hurried over. Micha crouched down, and pushed aside a leaved shrub. “Look.”

The entire bottom of three boards was missing, leaving a jagged hole big enough for a dog to squeeze through.

Relief and worry flooded her. “This means she’s somewhere in the neighborhood,” she said. “Better that than having someone grab her. But we need to find her.”

Micha nodded. “Grab some treats and her leash. We’ll find her.”

The confidence in his gravelly voice made her feel slightly better. She ran into the house with renewed