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“Go in and rescue him, obviously,” Cujo said with a chuff. “It’s the final part of our mission. You can’t back off now.”

I tried the door, but it was locked.“Any other ideas?” I asked.

“Fall back!” The muttsky jumped to the side, urging me to follow.

Sure enough, in the distance I spotted an approaching figure wearing a Russian fur shapka and thick mittens.

I leapt behind the cabin with Cujo and watched in horror as Mayor Mark Dennison himself finished the trek to the cabin and let himself inside. Could it be?

I carefully, painfully duck-walked to the window and peeked over the ledge. The mayor had settled himself beside his dog and was discussing the case—the one he’d hired us to solve.

I could barely make out his words.

“Well,” the mayor said with a chuckle, “the first few interviews went great. My public approval rating must be soaring now. Not only does everybody remember that I have a great dog.”

He paused to scratch Marco between the ears.“But they also feel genuinely sorry for me. It’s one thing to disagree with my politics, but to take such a nice dog… Who would do such a wicked thing?”

Marco cocked his head to the side and Mark laughed again.

“Yes, it would take someone truly awful.” He continued to laugh as the answer to our predicament finally became crystal clear.

No one had ever threatened Marco. The mayor had taken the dog himself and hidden him back here just long enough to get the public sympathy working in his favor.

So what was I supposed to do now?

Barge in and tell him he’d been found out?

He was the client after all, and the one responsible for paying us when the job was done.

Did a little ill-gotten publicity really hurt anyone?

The dog was clearly fine and happy.

So…

Was it better to walk away or to force a confrontation? Before I could decide, Mark let himself back out through the door and clomped away.

I held my breath, praying hard that he wouldn’t turn around and see me.

Chapter Fourteen

I waited crouched in the snow outside that cabin for at least ten minutes, needing to make sure the mayor had well and truly gone before I headed back through the woods with Cujo.

“What’s next? What’s next? I’m ready for the next part,” he begged, panting happily as he led me across the frigid February landscape.

I had to admit that he made a far more motivational partner than the crabby tabby I usually worked beside.

“That’s a good question,” I told him. “I still haven’t decided. What do you think?”

Honestly I was torn. Should we confront the mayor with what we know? Or would it be better for me to call my news anchor mom so she could break the story and expose this scandal to the public? She’d definitely be happy to have such a juicy story. The network execs would be, too. They might even extend her coverage region over something like this.

Cujo stopped walking and stared up at me with his light blue eyes. “I don’t care what you do. We found the culprit. It’s up to you to navigate the intricacies of human propriety. Not me.”

“Uhh….sure,” I said in defeat. “Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t mention it,” he yipped.

We walked silently through the woods for a while, neither having anything to say to the other. When we’d almost reached the clearing on the other side, my phone let out a series of high-pitched chirps.

“What was that?” Cujo asked in a panic. “That didn’t sound good.”

“Relax. It’s just my phone.” I pulled it out from where it had been wedged in my pants pocket and saw a missed text and two missed voicemails from Nan.

I listened to the first message. “I don’t know where you are, Angie dear, but take cover. Mark’s headed back your way.”

The next voicemail was much the same. Although it definitely would have been nice to have advance warning, it was probably a good thing my phone hadn’t chimed and given me away while I was spying through the cabin window.

I tried returning Nan’s call to let her know I was okay, but the phone just rang and rang without stop. Meanwhile Cujo and I crept closer to the edge of the forest. I was so ready to get back into the warmth of Nan’s car and hoped she’d be nearby and waiting for us.

“What’s that?” Cujo asked again.

I turned but saw nothing—nothing except a gloved fist flying straight toward my face. It made contact, crunching my nose and forcing me down into the soft snow below.

Cujo growled, sounding more like his namesake than ever.

“Who’s there?” I called, rubbing stars from my eyes, only to be kicked in my side for my efforts. The fresh wave of searing hot pain distracted me from all else.

Cujo lashed out with a snarl, and my attacker screamed in pain. I assumed he had landed his bite. I definitely didn’t envy whoever had been on the other end of those giant teeth.

A large thud sounded nearby, and Cujo yelped in response.

“Get out of here, you stupid dog!” I heard someone yell, still too delirious from pain to determine whether the voice had come from a man or a woman.

And then I was alone with my attacker.