Free Chasing Her Tail by Katie Allen

presumably locked, so Micah walked around to the backyard.
    He saw the open door on the garden shed and headed toward the small building.
    Ducking inside, he pulled the door almost closed behind him and yanked off his shirt.
    Toeing off his shoes, Micah reached down to pull his socks free. He stripped off his pants and boxer briefs too, having learned the hard way that some items of clothing were harder to get rid of once he had paws. He tucked the car keys and his watch into one of his pants pockets and then, completely naked, changed into a dog.
    Now Micah could smell that she’d been here, in this very spot, for quite a while.
    Her scent made his heart accelerate. Ignoring that reaction as a complication he couldn’t think about at the moment, he nudged the door open and slipped out of the shed.
    Moving quickly, he cut across backyards until he reached the house where she’d wiggled beneath the fence earlier.
    It was a simple matter to pick up the path she’d taken. He caught the heady scent of Bridget, as well as the odor of disturbed earth and slightly crushed vegetation caused by the tread of her paws. Settling into a steady trot, Micah followed her route automatically while he tried to work out a plan for when he found her.
    Shit , he thought. This was getting more and more messy. How could a six-year-old be the cause of so much trouble? Giving an impatient huff, he sped up, his nose filled with Bridget’s scent.

    41
    Katie Allen
    Bridget’s panicked dash had slowed into a regular trot. She’d reached the outskirts of the city and the houses were getting farther apart. Neighborhoods were replaced by sprawling farms with battered outbuildings and fields that disappeared over the rolls of faraway hills.
    She needed a plan, a destination. Although she didn’t feel comfortable going back to her house, she needed to find internet access somewhere, to find someone like her or at least some information that could help her. The two burglars’ conversation repeated itself over and over in her head as she tried to make sense of it. Was Micah Foster the boss? He’d shown up so quickly after they had called. Why else would he have been at her house? He’d chased her too, which meant he had to have known who she was—or at least what she was.
    A faint barking brought her out of her daydream. She whipped around, immediately on guard, not sure what—or who —to expect. A black and white dog was heading toward her at a full gallop. She could smell him now—his morning kibble and the pigs he guarded and, most reassuringly, the scent of ordinary, non-human dog.
    Bridget was so relieved that he wasn’t a human in dog’s clothing that the dog was almost on her before she turned to run. His barks changed to a snarl and his teeth snapped together with an audible crack. Part of Bridget wanted to stay, to fight, to roll the smaller dog beneath her and press her teeth into his throat, but the human part of her was appalled at this urge and that part told her to run.
    Bunching her hindquarters beneath her, Bridget shot forward, her tail tucked safely away from the threatening teeth close behind her. She gained ground quickly, her longer legs carrying her across the weed-strewn pasture. At the edge of the field, she flattened her body and wriggled beneath the bottom of a wire fence. As soon as her hind end was clear, she was off and running again, the barks of the pursuing dog growing fainter.
    She didn’t slow down until she’d passed through the next property, staying far away from the ranch house and barn, just in case. It had been stupid of her not to expect dogs. In fact, she’d been lucky not to have seen any people, or she could have been picked up as a stray or shot at by one of the farm owners.
    Her stomach rumbled and she ignored it. The only food to be had around here was the small creatures hiding in the tall grass. Occasionally she’d hear the rustle of movement or catch a warm rodent scent. As acceptable as the