How could she not get married?

Her dress. Two years in the making. Approximately two thousand beads.

Two hundred and thirty guests.

People were coming from England. People had already come from England.

Her spare room was already filling with gifts.

She’d have to give back the pasta maker.

And that was the thing that made her eyes suddenly fill with tears. It made her realise the impossibility of doing what she was thinking of.

Handing Raff Finn back the pasta maker and saying, Here, I can’t accept it-I’m not getting married.

Why Raff? Why was his gift so special?

She knew why. She knew…

The impossibility of what she was thinking made her choke. This was stupid. Nostalgia. Childhood memories.

Not all childhood memories. Raff yesterday at the scene of the accident, standing in front of her car, giving orders.

Raff, caring about old Mrs Ford.

Raff…

‘We always wish for what we can’t have,’ she muttered to herself and shoved her hand deep into the loam so hard she hit the wire netting and scraped her knuckles.

She hauled her hand out and an edge of leather came with it.

She stared down at her skinned knuckle and Philip’s wallet.

She needed a hug.

‘Kleppy,’ she called. ‘I found it. You want to come lick it clean?’

Fat chance. It was a joke. She should be smiling.

She wasn’t smiling.

‘Kleppy?’

He’d be back on her bed, she thought. How long till he came when she called?

‘Kleppy?’ She really did want a hug. She wiped away the dirt and headed inside.

No Kleppy.

How many hiding places were there? Where was he?

Not here.

Not in the house.

The front door was closed. He could hardly have opened it and walked out. He was clever but not…

Memory flooded back. Philip, throwing open the door to stare at the front path. She’d gone to look for Kleppy, then she’d headed straight out to the garden.

Philip leaving. Slamming the door behind him.

The door had been open all the time they’d talked.

Her heart sank. She should have checked. She’d been too caught up with her own stupid crisis, her own stupid pre-wedding jitters.

Kleppy was gone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ABBY searched block by block, first on foot and then fetching the car and broadening her search area.

How far could one dog get in what-half an hour? More? How long had she sat out in the garden angsting about what she should or shouldn’t be doing with her life?

How had one dog made her question herself?

Where was he?

She wanted to wake up the town and make them search, but even her friends… To wake them at midnight and say, Please, can you help me find a stray dog? was unthinkable.

They’d think she was nuts.

Sarah wouldn’t think she was nuts. Or Raff. Her friends…

She thought of the kids she’d messed around with when she was a kid. They’d dropped away as she was seen as Philip’s girl. Philip’s partner. Philip’s wife?

Those who remained… She winced, wondering how she’d isolated herself. She’d done it without thinking. How many years had she simply been moving forward with no direction? Or in Philip’s direction. So now, who did she call when she was in the kind of trouble Philip disapproved of?

She knew who.

No.

She searched for another hour.

One o’clock.

This was crazy. She couldn’t do it by herself.

Do not go near Raff Finn. That man is trouble. It had been a mantra in her head for years but now it had changed. Trouble had taken on a new dimension-a dimension she wasn’t brave enough to think about.

She pushed the thought of Raff away and kept searching. Wider and wider circles. A small dog. He’d be safe until morning, she told herself. He had street smarts. He was a stray.

He wasn’t a stray. He was Isaac Abrahams’ loved dog. He wore his owner’s medal of valour on his collar.

He was her Kleppy.

She drove on. Round the town. She walked through the deserted mall. She walked out onto the wharves at the harbour.

And then? There was only one place left to search. Isaac’s.

Up the mountain in the dark? To Isaac’s? She hated that place. She couldn’t.

He had to be somewhere. After this time, logic said that was where he’d be.

She couldn’t make herself go alone. She just…couldn’t.

Don’t do it.

Do it.

At two in the morning she phoned the police. The police singular.


Raff’s patrol car pulled up outside her front door ten minutes after she called. He had the lights flashing.

He swung out of the car, six feet two inches of lethal cop. Ready for action.

She’d been parked, waiting for him. In the dark. Not wanting to wake the neighbours. His flashing lights lit the street and curtains were being pulled.

‘Turn the lights off,’ she begged.

‘This is Kleppy,’ he said seriously. ‘I thought about sirens.’

‘You want to wake the town?’

‘How much do you want to find him?’

‘A lot,’ she snapped and then caught herself. ‘I mean…please.’

‘So how did you lose him? You let him out?’

‘I…yes.’

He looked at her face and got an answer. ‘Dexter let him out.’

‘By mistake.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘By mistake,’ she snapped.

‘How long ago?’

‘Three hours.’

‘Three hours? You’ve only just discovered he’s missing?’ There was a whole gamut of accusation in his tone. Like what had she and Philip been doing for three hours that they hadn’t noticed they’d lost a dog?

‘I’ve been searching,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Can we just… I don’t know…’

‘Find him?’ he suggested, and suddenly his voice was gentle. The switch was nearly her undoing. She was so close to tears.

‘Yes. Please.’

‘Where have you looked?’

‘Everywhere.’

‘That just about covers it. You sure he’s not under your bed?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘That’s where we find most missing kids,’ he said. ‘Within two hundred yards of the family refrigerator.’

‘You want to look again?’

‘I trust you. Is Dexter out hunting?’

Silence. She wasn’t going to answer. She didn’t need to answer.

‘I’m…I’m sorry to call you out,’ she ventured.

‘This is what I do.’

‘Hunt for lost dogs when you should be home with Sarah?’

‘Sarah’s used to me being out in the night. She has her dogs.’

‘Are you on duty?’

‘This is a two cop town. When there’s an emergency, Keith and I are both on.’

‘This is an emergency?’

‘Kleppy’s definitely an emergency,’ he said. ‘He’s a loved dog with an owner. I was never more relieved than when you said you’d take him on. For all sorts of reasons,’ he said enigmatically, but then kept right on. ‘You want to ride with me? We’ll check out Main Street. Morrisy Drapers is his favourite spot.’

‘I’ve been there. It’s all locked up. The bargain bins are inside. No Kleppy.’

‘You’ve what?’ he demanded, brow snapping. ‘You walked the mall alone?’

‘This is Kleppy.’

‘At two on a Saturday morning? There’s the odd drunk and nothing else in the mall.’

‘Yeah, and no Kleppy.’

His mouth tightened but he said nothing, turning the car towards the waterfront. ‘He likes the harbour, our Kleppy. Isaac’s been presented with a live lobster before now. Isaac had to get Kleppy’s nose stitched but he got him home, live and fighting.’

‘Oh,’ she said and choked on a bubble of laughter that was close to hysteria. ‘A lobster?’

‘Almost bigger than he was. Cost Isaac a hundred and thirty dollars for the lobster and another three hundred at the vet’s. They had a great dinner that night.’

He had his flashing lights on again now. He hit another switch and floodlights lit both sides of the road.

The law on the hunt.

‘I’ve checked the harbour,’ she said in a small voice, already knowing the reaction she’d get.

And she did.

‘Also by yourself.’ His tone was suddenly angry. ‘Hell, woman, you know the dropkicks go down there at night.’

‘They haven’t seen Kleppy.’

‘You asked?’

‘This is Kleppy.’

‘You asked. You approached the low life that crawl round that place at night? Where the hell is Dexter?’

‘In bed,’ she snapped. She caught herself, fighting back anger in response. ‘I know I should have phoned him but he’s not…he’s not quite reconciled to having a dog.’

‘Which is why he left the door open.’

‘He did not do it deliberately.’

‘You make one stubborn defence lawyer,’ he said more mildly and went back to concentrating on the sides of the road.

She fumed. Or she tried to fume. She was too tired and too worried to fume.

‘Have you tried up the mountain?’ Raff asked and she caught her breath.

The mountain.

Isaac’s place.

‘N… No.’ She swallowed. Time to confess. ‘That’s why…that’s why I called you.’

‘You didn’t go up there?’

‘I haven’t. Not since…’ She paused. Tried to go on. Couldn’t.

Tonight she’d walked a deserted shopping mall. Tonight she’d fronted a group of very drunk youths down at the harbour to ask if they’d seen her dog.

But the place with the most fears was Kleppy’s home. Isaac’s place.

Up the mountain where Ben had been killed. To go there at night…

The last night she’d been there would stay in her mind for ever. The phone call. The rain, the dark, the smell of spilled gasoline, the sight of…

‘It’s just a place, Abby,’ Raff said gently. ‘You want to stay home while I check?’

‘I…no.’ She had to get over this. Ten years. She was stuck in a time warp, an aching void of loss. ‘I’m sorry. You must hate going up there, too.’