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to be thinking about that.
    The woman on the line must have heard the guilt and fear in Tim’s voice, because she tried to reassure him. “Of course you didn’t! Tell you what, let’s wait and see if Dr. McGurver thinks he needs to bother the police. Okay? He should be there soon.”
    Tim gushed his thanks and put his phone away. With his hands and attention free, he got down on all fours to be closer to the dog. The dog seemed to relax too, and lay down flat in the mud, panting and lifting that one paw in the air with a whine. The snow on the dog’s thick coat melted and ran off in streams as Tim petted him gently, trying to see if he could find any blood or obvious injuries. He was a beautiful animal. He had a regal air about him. Tim would feel awful if he’d killed a creature like this. He could feel heat on his face and knew it was tears.
    “Please be okay,” Tim whispered to the dog.
    Right then it seemed like the only thing that mattered.
     
    *                          *                         *
     
    Lance was beginning to feel really bad about this. The concept had been simple —pretend to be mildly hurt by Tim’s truck and get inside the house overnight on sympathy. He figured twenty-four hours max on the ‘inside’, and he’d be able to see once and for all what Timothy Traynor aka Tim Weston was really up to.
    No, it wasn’t exactly above board. But the guy was hiding something, and Lance figured the higher good was protecting his community. Once he’d gotten the idea, it had been hard to dislodge it. And anyway, he could always abort if things went wrong. Right? And no one would ever know he’d stooped so low.
    But now, seeing the stricken look on the guy’s face, the tears that trembled on his lashes, the way he looked so miserable, sodden and cold in the snow , and the way he touched Lance’s pelt so gently, murmur ing apologies and promises so… so….
    So ridiculously inane.
    Damn! Who would have thought the guy would be such a pushover for a strange dog?
    Lance struggled to get up again. This time he was determined to show Tim he wasn’t seriously hurt. He couldn’t bear th e guy’s guilt any longer . If it meant Lance could forget being taken in for the night, so be it. This was just cruel.
    The lights of a car pulled into the driveway. It was Bill McGurver. Damn it.
    Bill jumped out of his vehicle and came running. Lance was still in the mud, pinned by the glare of the old truck’s headlights. He raised his paw and gave a weak whine as Bill dropped to his knees.
    Bill stared at him, horrified. “Lance? Oh my God, are you all right?”
    “Do you know this dog?” Tim said anxiously. “I’m so sorry! I was just coming up my driveway and I hit a pothole and suddenly he was right there! I think maybe the front of my truck got him. Please tell me he’ll be okay!”
    Lance narrowed his eyes at Bill. Keep your mouth shut.
    “Um…” Bill spluttered. Wet, clumpy snow built up on the hood of his anorak as he stared at Lance in confusion. “I meant… Wow, what a chance you took , handling a strange dog like this. Mr…?”
    “I’m Tim. I couldn’t just let him lie here hurt! He keeps holding up his paw.” Tim’s voice was all shaky, and he was petting Lance’s coat compulsively. His hands were warm, which was a little odd. Given how thick Lance’s pelt was, he wouldn’t have expected to feel body heat like that. But then again, he was very cold and wet. “Can you help him, Doctor? Please?”
    Dont give me away. Lance ordered Bill with his eyes.
    “Let’s get him inside where it’s warm,” Bill said decisively.
    “Is it okay to move him? What if he has internal injuries?”
    “Best check.” Bill ran his hands over Lance’s back and hind legs, obviously unsure what he was dealing with and how badly Lance was actually hurt. He glanced into Lance’s eyes, and Lance shook his head a fraction and then held up his left paw