Page 68 of K-9 in Pursuit

“I will.” He pulled on his coat. “I’m waiting for my girlfriend.”

“Have a good one.” Felice picked up his empty coffee cup and moved away. He turned toward the door and his phone sounded, not with a text but a call. He pulled out the phone and saw Chloe’s number on the screen. “Everything okay?” he asked.

No answer. Muffled noises. Distant voices. His heart hammered painfully and he lunged toward the door, knocking over a chair. Felice, back behind the counter, looked up. “I have to go,” Brian said, and raced out the door, Daisy trotting after him.

Out on the sidewalk, he looked both ways. He had no idea where Chloe had gone. Though she had checked in regularly, as planned, she had never given her locations. Why hadn’t they thought to do that?

He started walking east, looking into every shop, every parking lot and alley. Two couples stood at the corner. He jogged up to them. “Have you seen a woman in a black ski jacket and a dark blue beanie?” he asked.

They stared at him, glassy-eyed from too much alcohol. “Cool dog,” one woman said. She bent toward Daisy, who shied away.

“Have you seen a woman in a black coat?” Brian asked again, his voice raised.

They shook their heads. “We haven’t seen anybody,” one of the men said. “This place is dead.”

Brian turned and jogged back the way he had come, past the coffee shop, past the pizzeria where the server had told them about seeing Sharee with another woman.

Daisy, who had been ahead of him, had disappeared. He looked around and spotted her stopped at the alley next to the pizzeria, staring into it.

“Come on, girl,” he said. “No time for pizza now.”

Daisy glanced at him, then moved into the alley. Brian followed. Then he heard a muffled cry and raced toward the sound.

“Don’t come any closer or I swear I’ll cut her.”

A person stood at the end of the alley—a woman. Light from a single bulb over a nearby door glinted off the blade of the knife she held. At first, Brian’s brain only registered the blade. Then he locked eyes with the woman who held the knife—glittering blue eyes with an expression like a cornered animal.

At first he thought she stood over a pile of clothing. Then a low moan emerged from the clothing and with a jolt like an electric shock, he recognized Chloe—the black jacket, the blue cap, and something bright blue and textured—a scarf?—wrapped around her throat. “What have you done to her?” he cried.

“Why couldn’t she leave me alone?” the woman asked. “All I wanted was to live my life, married to the man I love and taking care of our children. But she and her sister couldn’t leave us alone. I had to stop them. Don’t you see?”

Brian tried to force his brain to work. Was this Bunny? Or Cameron Douglas’s wife? It didn’t matter. She was a woman with a knife. He had to stop her from using the knife on Chloe. “She’s not hurting you now,” he said. “Why don’t you leave her alone?”

“No!” The woman’s shout echoed against the walls of the buildings on either side. Daisy barked.

The woman shifted her attention to the dog. “Shut up!” she said.

Daisy growled and barked even more furiously. “Make her stop,” the woman said. “Someone will hear.”

“Daisy, hush!” Brian commanded.

But the dog ignored him. She lunged at the woman, who swiped at the dog with the knife. Brian didn’t think, he only reacted. He shot forward and grabbed the woman’s wrist and squeezed. Daisy, still barking, jumped at the both of them. They fell, hard, but Brian held on, rolling the woman over and pressing her to the ground. “Chloe!” he shouted. “Chloe, are you okay?”

No answer. He forced the woman’s face to the ground and pulled her arms behind her back. “What did you do to her?” he demanded. But the woman didn’t answer. She only sobbed, her body convulsing beneath him.

A spotlight shone down the alley, blinding him. “This is the police!” a man shouted. “Put your hands up.”

Brian reluctantly let go of the woman and raised his hands. The woman lay still, her sobs quieted. “My girlfriend is hurt,” Brian said. “Please call an ambulance.”

He started to move to Chloe’s side, but a harsh voice barked, “Stay still!”

Footsteps pounded down the alley, then someone grabbed Brian’s arms and forced them behind his back. Restraints tightened around his wrists. He fought a paralyzing sense of déjà vu. Were they arresting him? Again? He looked back over his shoulder at Chloe. She lay slumped, eyes closed, one cheek pressed to the ground, her face bleached of color, the scarf knotted at her throat.

A uniformed deputy pulled Brian to his feet. Daisy had stopped barking and cowered next to Brian, whimpering. “Call an ambulance,” Brian said again.

“The ambulance is on its way,” the sheriff’s deputy said.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Brian said. “That woman attacked Chloe. She had a knife.”