Caleb was a wildlife biologist now, specialising in animal behaviour out in remote areas. They’d spent muddy summers together as kids, and though life had scattered them, he was still the one she turned to when she wanted the truth, not just reassurance.
Earlier that day, she’d sent him the pawprint photo without any explanation. Now he was calling. She picked up instantly.
“Lisa?” Caleb’s voice was steady. “I saw the picture you sent.”
Her words came out tight. “Do you know what it is?”
“I’ve got a guess,” he said, cautious. “But I need to see it in person. Photos can be misleading.”
“You think it’s bad?”
“Bad enough that I’m packing a bag,” he replied. “Could be something big. Could be nothing. Either way, I want to see for myself.”
Lisa’s throat tightened. “Whatever it was… it took Nina.”
A beat of silence. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I want to find her. And Kevin’s kitten too.”
“You want me to help track it?”
“You once followed an injured bear for twenty miles through a swamp,” she reminded him.
“That bear wasn’t walking into people’s gardens,” he said.
“No jokes, Caleb.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow,” he promised. “We’ll start with the tracks.”
The next afternoon, Caleb rolled up in a battered SUV, crusted with mud and littered with pine needles. He wore heavy boots, a faded canvas jacket, and a pack on his back that rattled faintly when he moved.
Lisa met him outside. He gave her a long, assessing look. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“I haven’t.”
“You up for a hike?”
“As long as it ends with answers.”
They started at Kevin’s yard. Caleb crouched by the muddy patch where the print had been, studying the ground. Then he followed the fence line, shifting leaves aside with a stick, muttering under his breath.
“Tracks are a few days old,” he said at last. “But there’s more than one. Looks like a regular route.”
“A route for what?” she asked.
“Something heavy. Strong stride. Weight carried low.” He glanced toward the trees. “Big cat.”
Lisa’s stomach dropped.
“It’s moving from yard to yard,” Caleb went on. “Keeping close to people, but just out of sight. This isn’t random hunting. It’s targeted.”
Lisa’s skin prickled. “Why?”