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thought of Owen McAllister in …
    Days.
    I moved to the edge of the porch. There wasn’t even a railing to keep stupid people from tumbling off. Obviously not up to code—if Owen tried to sell the place, there was going to be a lot he’d have to add, subtract, and update first.
    I stood there breathing for a minute—lovely fresh air that didn’t smell of blood and fire, flesh and mold. But mostly it didn’t smell of sun and grass, hay and midnight.
    Of him.
    The wolf called to the moon that swelled heavy and ripe and cool straight above, but she was so far off maybe it wasn’t even the same wolf. And about that wolf …
    Owen had seen her. His dog had rolled around with her. Which made the animal a lot less imaginary. I had to wonder why she’d shown herself to someone after all these years and why that someone had been Owen.
    I glanced at my phone; I had a signal. Yay! I didn’t want to go to my parents’. I didn’t want to explain why I was here, what I had seen.
    And who I had seen it with.
    I located the police station’s direct number in my contact list. Less than a minute later, the dispatcher put me through to Chief Deb.
    â€œYou know those animals you were looking for?” I asked. “I found them.”

 
    Chapter 4
    The living room window gave Owen a perfect view of the ridge. If Becca couldn’t get a signal upstairs, she’d appear on top of it very soon. She’d no doubt shimmy down the drainpipe before she’d come back through here.
    While Owen didn’t like the idea of her being alone out there, she wouldn’t be for long. The bright moon would catch the reflective stripe on her track pants. He’d be able to follow her progress up, up, up through the breaks in the trees until she popped out on top like a piece of toast.
    Then Owen would give Reggie the command, voraus, or run out. He’d be hard-pressed not to tell him to bringen, or fetch . But Reggie didn’t bringen nice people back any less chewed on than he brought back the not-so-nice.
    â€œIf necessary I expect you to vault through that window.” Owen pointed; Reggie followed the line of his finger. “And kick the ass of whatever is anywhere near her.”
    Reggie gave a low woof. Owen took that to mean “Happy to.”
    Ass kicking was Reggie’s specialty. Once, it had been Owen’s. He very much feared it might never be again, and he wasn’t certain what else he could do.
    In the Marines he had excelled.
    Running fast? Check.
    Hitting hard? Check.
    No home, no family, no life? Check and double-check.
    He’d been a shoo-in for K-9 Corps. Add to that his love of animals, which he’d had even before he’d met Becca, and he had been accepted into the canine program without a hitch.
    There was something about dogs that healed or at least helped. Your mother was a druggie, a nut, often a thief? You were an average student on a good day? No place to go? No future to dream of? A dog didn’t care. They didn’t even know.
    Becca had known, and she hadn’t cared either. Owen had loved her so much he couldn’t think straight. Luckily her father had loved her enough to think straight for both of them.
    What would the man say if he knew Owen was back? Did it matter? He wasn’t going to stay.
    Owen rubbed his hand over his mouth, which still tingled from hers. Would he be able to look Dale Carstairs in the face any more now than he’d been able to look at him then? Certainly this time he’d only kissed her, then he’d—
    Owen stood and paced, ignoring the pain. He was no longer a kid with nothing; he was a man with …
    â€œNot much more.”
    He threw a glance toward the ridge. No sign of Becca. He whirled, planning to pace some more, and nearly tripped over Reggie. He’d decided to pace too. Owen gave the dog a pat. “I have you, don’t I, buddy?”
    Reggie panted and