Danny called the animal shelter and checked the paper.
Nothing new.
Banjo just vanished.
He found Tyrell in his room, getting ready to go to Bend on his day off. “You have to drive me back to Camp Sherman, just one last time.”
Tyrell shook his head. “It’s been five days. He’s long gone. You got to let this go.”
“I can’t. I have to know if someone found him.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know.”
“This is nuts.”
But Tyrell took him to Camp Sherman anyway. One last time.
If anyone knew anything, it would be at the store.
Zero. Zip. No found dogs.
They drove back through Sisters slowly, looking for signs tacked to telephone poles. They checked Ray’s Grocery at the far end of town, then worked their way east.
They read every sign they came across.
Nothing about a dog.
They stopped at stores and asked. Came up empty.
Maybe Banjo was dead. Maybe coyotes got him. Or he hooked up with a pack of feral dogs.
“Got to get you home,” Tyrell said.
But just outside of Sisters, they saw a girl tacking a piece of paper to a fence post. Then she jumped into a Jeep that took off toward town.
The guy at the wheel glanced at them as he passed.
“He look familiar?” Tyrell said.
“No, but pull over. Let’s see what they put up.”
Danny jumped out and read it.
Medium sized black and white dog found near Camp Sherman.
Tag says “Banjo.”
There was a name, Meg Harris.
And a phone number.
Danny’s heart slammed in his chest. Banjo was alive! He wanted to race after the Jeep, catch up and tell them, That’s my dog! Where is he? Can I see him? Can I take him home?
He ripped the sign off the post and jammed it into his pocket.