Free Say No More by Gemini Sasson Page A

yappy dogs herself — toy poodles named Henri and Sophia. I didn’t like either of them and I wasn’t sure I liked her. She spoke nonsense to them in a baby voice, fed them canned gourmet food on crystal plates, and dressed them in little coats speckled with sequins. I was from a working lineage, farm-bred Australian Shepherds, and I took immense pride in it. My kind guarded the homestead with the ferocity of lions and watched over the children like the mastiffs of the ancient Roman army. We kept predators at bay, hunted vermin, and herded bulls twenty times our size, sometimes risking our own lives in the process. We weren’t afraid to get dirty or work beyond the point of exhaustion. Warming laps, having my toenails painted, and getting carried around in a faux alligator purse, had I been small enough, would be beyond disgraceful. It would be mortifying.
    “I think,” Lise began, setting Hunter on his feet, “that maybe it was the other way around.”
    Scooting closer, I leaned against her leg. She stroked the top of my head. After awhile, her fingers wandered to rub the crease of my ear.
    “Good girl, Halo.” Her voice was hoarse. She’d been hollering for Hunter a long, long time. “That was a very, very good girl.”
    I leaned into her more heavily and closed my eyes. I was only doing what I was supposed to. What dog worth his kibble wouldn’t have?
    And yet, I needed to hear those words from Lise. I needed them more than I needed food or sleep or water. I needed her. And Hunter.
    What she didn’t know was how much they needed me.

chapter 7
    M y skull rattled against the cool glass of the window as we bumped down the road in Lise’s Subaru. I just realized it had only been late morning when Hunter disappeared. It was fully dark now. We’d been gone a long time. I should’ve been tired, except when Lise found us a new surge of energy had filled me. I hadn’t come down from the thrill of it yet. I’d found Hunter and Lise had found us. Everything in the world was as good as it could be again.
    Only it wasn’t. I sensed it.
    An exhausted Hunter was piled beneath blankets in the back seat. I peered from the storage area in the rear over the top of the seat at him. Wet hair still clung to his forehead. Mud was streaked across his cheek and at his temple was a fresh scab, the blood barely dry.
    In the front, the glow of the dashboard illuminated Lise’s pale face like moonlight on still waters. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly the veins on the back of her hands bulged. Every once in awhile she’d steal a glance at Grace, but the moment Grace looked her way, Lise’s eyes would dart back to the flickering yellow line in the middle of the road.
    At the edge of the tunnel of light cast by the car’s headlights, a pair of green eyes flashed, then disappeared into the darkness of the ditch. Lise jerked her arms to the left, overcorrecting, and my shoulder slammed into the wheel well with a thump. She straightened the steering wheel and glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Sorry, girl.”
    Grace burned a stare into the side of Lise’s head, but Lise was purposefully ignoring her now.
    “Look, I know you’re mad at me,” Grace finally blurted out, “but I still think you should have called the sheriff. Or the neighbors. They could have helped search for him. At the very least you should have given Estelle a head’s up. He was probably headed that way and —”
    Lise punched the brake. The tires skidded on asphalt for a heart-clenching moment, then crunched over gravel as we slowed to a stop on the shoulder of the road. She locked her arms straight on the wheel and swiveled her head to glare at Grace. “Are you crazy? I want nothing to do with that woman. Nothing!” She shot a glance at Hunter, but there was no sign he’d been awakened. She lowered her voice to a growl. “Hunter slipped out of her house and could have died because she couldn’t watch him for one minute and you think I