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Maybe Zak was right.
Maybe he did need a dog.
As he kicked off his shoes, he found himself replaying every word, every glance, with the masochistic urge of a desperate man.
He sighed and tossed his borrowed Redwood Coast Rescue jacket aside before collapsing onto his couch. He let his head fall back against the cushion, utterly drained. He should go shower and go to bed, but he couldn’t find the energy to move. His eyes drifted shut…
And his phone rang.
A slow sigh escaped him as he opened his eyes and rubbed his face with both hands. He checked the time. Four a.m. Shit. He’d slept right there on the couch for three whole hours.
“Goddammit.” He rubbed at the crick in his neck. That three hours was going to have to be enough. A call this late meant one of his clients had gotten into trouble, which meant a trip to either the sheriff’s office or the prison.
He leaned over the edge of the couch and fumbled around on the floor until he found his phone in the pocket of the jacket. The screen flashed “Unknown caller.” He hesitated for a moment before answering. Usually his late night calls came from the jail.
“Hello,” he said, forcing his voice to sound neutral.
“Is this Callum Holden, the lawyer?” A girl’s voice, barely more than a whisper.
“It is. How can I help you?”
She was silent for a moment. “You’ve been asking around about Hope?”
He bolted upright so fast his head swam. “Who is this?”
No answer.
“Is this about Hope Summers?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When she finally spoke again, he had to strain to hear her. “She’s missing.”
“I know. She’s been missing for twenty years.”
“No, I…” Her voice trailed off. When she came back, she sounded scared. “I-I shouldn’t have called.”
The line went dead.
He redialed, and it rang and rang and rang.
No answer.
He hung up and dialed the sheriff. It took two calls, but Ash Rawlings finally picked up.
“Holden,” Ash growled. He sounded out of breath and more pissed off than usual. “This better be important.”
Cal winced. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what the sheriff and his wife had been doing. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Ash’s grumble of irritation rumbled over the line. “Well, you did. So what’s so important you had to call me in the middle of the night on my one day off?”
“I just got a call from an unknown number... a woman. Or girl. She sounded young and scared. She asked about Hope Summers.”
The other end of the line went silent. The only sign that Ash hadn’t hung up was the faint sound of his breathing.
“What did she say?” Ash asked with reluctant interest.
“She said that Hope was missing.”
“That’s not news, Holden.”
