I have two choices right now. I could, as a handy fellow, tell her to step aside and let me take over. Or, as a man who admires a woman with grit, let her do her thing and fix it for her when she’s not paying attention.
Looking past the determination in her proud, heart-shaped face, I can see the exhaustion in her eyes. She really has been awake all night. Poor Molly. I have to get control of that rolling, tumbling feeling in my chest, the one that means I’m worried about her.
“I see. Well, carry on with your bad self. I’m gonna go check the animal shelters and animal control facilities in the area. In the meantime, so you know, the work crew is coming back today—at a reasonable hour—so if you see dudes around the property, that’s what’s up.”
She looks quizzical. “You don’t have to check the shelters. I can do that…”
“Don’t even start that. Yes I do. The sooner we find the damn dog, the sooner I can get back to work on my house.” I know it makes no sense what I just said, but I have to make my exit. That woman drives me crazy with her cockamamie, half-assed fence. I’m going out of my mind.
I go back inside to pour some coffee and check up on the social media pages for lost or stolen animals. No sign of Terrence.
I hop in my truck and head out, knowing full well that I sh
ould be picking up plumbing supplies for today’s projects. But instead, I head to the home electronics store and drop a wad of money on the most expensive security system that I have no business dropping cash on.
Don’t get involved, Daniel. Meddling is not a good look on you.
But as I load my haul into my truck, I remind myself that good fences and good security make good neighbors, and I aim to be a real, real good neighbor.
Chapter Nine
Molly
It’s been a long day.
I fixed the fence, installed my security system, played with the dogs, brought the pregnant Fluffy to the handsome-yet-sadly-unavailable vet to check on her status (should be giving birth in about a week), called around to area shelters looking for Terrence, and drove around with Dolly some to see if she could pick up the scent.
And now it’s another lovely Texas evening and I’m back at my front gate, where I find a fancy, brand new security camera installed.
“What the hell?” I say, getting out of my truck to examine it.
I had priced these before, and they’re way out of my budget.
I look around for evidence as to how it got here, but I see nothing.
“Dolly,” I say, hopping back in the truck, tapping in the gate code, then waiting for the slow-ass automated gate to swing open, “Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.”
She looks at me dopily as I pull into the driveway, but I know she gets it. She’s a very good dog.
And then all of a sudden, Terrence comes tearing across the yard toward the truck.
“Holy shit! Terrence!”
I hop out, leaving the door open for Dolly, and grab up the little dog in my arms. I’m so overjoyed to find the little demon that I barely notice through my tears something else is different about my place.
The fence line adjoining Daniel’s property had been completely replaced with a six-foot-tall privacy fence.
Holy fuckin’ shit.
Well, fine. If he wants to plonk down money to show off, have at it. But a six-foot solid wood fence? Now I can’t even see his house. What if he has a break-in? What if he dies alone in that house? I have no way of knowing whether or not he’s been shut up in that house for days if I can’t see when he comes and goes.
And there is something else. My pawn shop and extension cord camera that was pointed at his house is gone, and another security camera has replaced it. One that looks exactly like the new one trained on my front gate.
He is doing this to get a rise out of me.
Well, there is no way in hell I am keeping these cameras.
I storm into the house and feed the dogs, then make myself some dinner.