Chapter Twenty-One

“Blast and damn,” Angel cursed at the screen. She’d been locked out of a lead and spent an hour getting back in, only to find nothing. “I don’t have time for this!”

Redgamer3 was a ghost. He knew all the tricks to keep her from finding out who he—or she—was. She’d traced him to a home improvement company and through two interesting porn sites, only to come back to her own computer. From there she’d backtracked and found the lead that led nowhere.

She stood to stretch her legs and refill her coffee. As she walked into the kitchen she realized Pudge hadn’t barked to come back in from his morning walkabout.

He was practically an appendage. She wondered what could have kept him from barking at the door. Unease gripped her as she pulled her gun in case it was a who instead of a what that was keeping him outside.

“Please let it be a squirrel,” she repeated like a mantra.

After checking through every window that faced the backyard, she finally opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

There was Pudge, lying at the bottom of the four steps that led down to the yard. His side was moving up and down rapidly as he panted. It was apparent he was in some kind of distress.

Someone had taken down her dog.

And they were probably coming for her next.