“I thought I’d do a story on Niall. Now that the homestead is no longer under water, people are interested.”
“Are they?” Angus looked sceptical. “There was always something nasty about that whole Helen thing.”
Nevertheless he went and found the photos, packed in a cardboard box. When Claire asked if she could take them with her he gave her a hard stare.
“I’ll be very careful,” she promised.
Reluctantly he put the box in her arms and she carried it out to the car, closing the trunk just as her cell phone rang.
“Claire? Merv here, how you doing?”
Merv was her neighbour further along the reservoir towards the spillway.
“You haven’t lost a dog, have you Claire?”
“A dog? I heard one barking one night in the reservoir. I thought it might be yours.”
“Well, it’s here but it’s not mine. Not yours either then?”
“No.”
“Just turned up in the middle of the night. Strange thing was it was covered in mud and all wet. Must have been in the water, I reckon.”
Claire felt a prickle of unease. What about the man who had been in the homestead, the man in the photo? Was the dog his? And if so, why had he left it behind?
“Claire?”
She realized she’d fallen silent, standing by her car, the phone pressed hard to her ear. “How about I come over and take a look at it now? I’m about to drive home anyway.”
“See you then.”
Merv, man of few words, hung up. Claire climbed into the car, telling herself that it was probably just a stray dog, dumped on the highway further out of town. Animals could smell water for miles, couldn’t they?
Merv was waiting for her, his shock of white hair even wilder than usual. Inside a dog was barking. Short, sharp yaps. It sounded like the dog she’d heard the other night. As Merv opened a door a small bundle of newly washed white fur ran past him and straightat Claire. Before she could stop it, the small dog was jumping at her, blunt claws scrabbling at her legs as it barked hysterically.
“Whoa there, boy!” Merv caught the sturdy little animal up, holding it away from her, but it continued to bark. Bright eyes peered at her through a mop of white fringe, and a pink tongue lolled as it fought to catch its breath. Merv looked at Claire. “You sure you haven’t met before? He seems to think you’re his.”
She shook her head, laughing, and reached out to rub the dog’s head. It was white and woolly. This wasn’t the sort of dog that an owner dumped on a highway; this was a pet, healthy and well fed.
“I wonder where he came from?” she asked, smiling as the animal licked at her hand, little tail wagging so violently its whole body shook in Merv’s arms.
“Your guess is as good as mine. He’s an intelligent little fellow, and friendly.”
Claire gave the woolly head another pat. “I’ll put something in the paper for Thursday. Perhaps we can find his owners.”
The dog seemed calmer now, and Merv put it down. It trotted over to Claire and sat, gazing up at her with adoring eyes.
“Love at first sight,” Merv quipped.
“I’ve never had a dog,” she said, stooping to tickle the animal under the chin. “Well, not that I can remember, anyway.”
Merv leaned against the doorjamb. “Nothing’s come back to you then?”
Claire grimaced. “Nothing. It’s as if I never existed. As if I’m nobody.”
“You’re somebody in this town, Claire,” Merv reminded her levelly.
It was nice of him to say so, and Claire smiled.
