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Hawick Falls the night Detective Cassidy and his men found his underground chamber. Now a warrant was out for his arrest.
    “Spring and new beginnings make us nostalgic,” the woman said to him. “Got a place to stay tonight?”
    “Yup, then I’m on the road. I appreciate the kindness of the workers here. I wouldn’t make it on my empty pockets without a helping hand.”
    “We all have low times. If you’re interested in a job for a few weeks, I heard the mill is hiring seasonal employees.”
    “Thanks for the tip, but I’m moving on. I’m looking up an old sweetheart.”
    The woman straightened. “Looks like you got the shoes for it if you’re walking far.” She glanced at his running sneakers.
    “I love the comfort of these shoes.” A lie. Sneakers weren’t his choice or style, but his life was about breaking patterns, not being obvious. “I’ve miles to go before I sleep.”
    “Robert Frost.” The woman beamed at him. “I used to teach English at the high school.”
    “Nice to meet another person who appreciates fine literature.” Women fell for a line of poetry every time. “You’ll understand I must bid you adieu.” He started toward the exit.
    “Good luck with the sweetheart. Is it a surprise?”
    He reached for the exit handle and paused. “A big one, I hope. God bless you and all you do for others.” Matt headed into the cold to continue his hunt for Lucy Watson.

Chapter 7

    March 18
    At the Barley House B&B, Lucy convinced Mr. Smart, the owner and desk clerk, to scan Target’s picture and email it to her. She settled into her room upstairs and set to work forwarding the dog’s information to the animal shelters within a hundred miles.
    When she finished, she called her friend Teagan in Hawick Falls. They talked for an hour, and Lucy’s spirits were on the rise. Teagan’s positive, determined outlook on life was contagious, until Lucy hit her bed.
    Thoughts and questions revolved through her mind, keeping her awake. Near dawn, she fell asleep. When she awoke, the sun was shining. After showering and dressing, she gathered up the sympathy cards her former neighbors had dropped off at the B&B and put them in her suitcase. Then she stuffed her phone, Ryan’s house key, and her room key into her pockets with the mini dog treats she’d picked up the day before. The wind blew against the window. She hoped her nylon running clothes would keep her warm.
    The B&B’s carpeted hall and staircase silenced her footsteps. In the lobby, Mr. Smart had settled in a wingback chair by the gas fireplace. He nodded to her over a newspaper as she walked out to Main Street.
    A few cars and delivery trucks lumbered past. In the bed of a pickup was a bob-house that someone had probably pulled off the river a half a mile from town. The ice wouldn’t be out for a few more weeks, but the law required they be removed before next month.
    She used to love to jog in the morning. Now she went through the motions. Across the road, a shopper exited Maple Leaf Food and Drugs. He clutched a plastic shopping bag in one hand and a complimentary coffee in the other.
    When Gramps was alive, they’d grocery shop together. On their trips, he told her jokes and stories about his life, which left her rolling her eyes or giggling. Once she got her license, she’d driven his pickup on their expeditions to the store. Ryan had bought her a sticker that read “Real Women Drive Trucks.” Lucy had stuck it on the front fender.
    Those were the old days. Gone forever. Someday she’d complete her minor in business and open her own shop. A liberal arts degree hadn’t proved helpful in a competitive job market. Yeah, she’d run a little artsy place like the shops in the tourist mecca of North Conway, a few miles down the road. Right now she didn’t know enough to start a business from scratch.
    On the bottom porch step, she stopped to stretch. Okay, body, cooperate. Make your physical therapist proud after all the work you’ve