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He frowned. ‘I’m your husband. That’s what I’m here for. I don’t like the thought of you tossing and turning next to me, worried about’ – he held up the note – ‘this.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘But it wouldn’t have changed anything. And I wanted to think it through fully. Besides, I did get to sleep, eventually.’
‘Not for long.’
She shook her head. ‘No. But a few hours.’
‘And so you went out, alone?’
‘I went for a run, in Barrow.’
‘Mary, someone put this in your bag at the library. They were there. And they knew you were there. And they knew you had read the note on the pole. They are out there right now.’
‘Maybe it’s just a way to scare someone,’ she said. ‘And I’m the unlucky person.’
Ryan sipped his coffee. ‘You don’t believe that.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s a very elaborate way to scare someone.’
‘I agree,’ Mary said. ‘But if it’s not that, what is it? That’s what I can’t figure out.’
Ryan didn’t respond.
‘And,’ she said. ‘Why me?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But whatever it is, it’s fucking weird.’ He crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. ‘We’ll keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. And it’ll be OK. You’ve got me.’
She leaned into his hug. ‘Thanks.’ She sipped the coffee; it was delicious, but after the run she was dehydrated. She put the mug down and wriggled away from him. ‘Need a drink,’ she said. ‘Water.’
She filled a glass at the kitchen faucet. The window above the sink looked over the neighbour’s back yard. She searched for Ruby, half expecting to see her come bounding over the fence, followed by a breathless Trent.
As she watched, the kitchen light came on and she saw a woman pass by the window. It must be Trent’s wife; it was the first time Mary had seen her and she peered out, hoping for another glimpse.
Her hope was rewarded. The back door opened and the figure of a woman, tall and slender, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail, stepped onto the back deck. She was wearing a dressing gown and holding what looked like a jug of water.
That, however, was not what caught Mary’s attention.
What caught her attention was the black labradoodle that trotted past her and out into the yard, where it squatted to take a pee.
The Dog in the Back Yard
A black labradoodle, just like the one that had escaped.
The one that was supposed to have escaped, giving Trent a reason to be roaming the neighbourhood at five a.m.
Mary felt a sense of mounting shock.
‘What the fuck?’ she said.
‘What is it?’ Ryan said, moving towards her, a note of alarm in his voice.
‘Their dog is here.’
He slowed. ‘That’s a surprise?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
