Page 27

Rowdy’s brows went up and he nodded. “I’ll do what I can, of course.”

The guard pressed a button to open the wide wrought iron gate decorated with Christmas lights and Rowdy pulled through slowly. He rolled up his window and cranked the heat to stave off the chill.

There weren’t many houses in Anderson Hills. They were spaced out, yards of manicured green grass between them. The golf course stretched out to the right, and players dotted the green. It was an especially warm day for December in Colorado, and people were taking advantage of the slightly warmer weather. A lot of the snow had melted from the last storm, leaving the roads wet. He passed the massive clubhouse, lines of expensive cars filling the lot. Rowdy felt a little self-conscious in his utilitarian Chevy as he pulled past the building and followed the road on around. A pond glittered off to the right, and there were a few ducks on the surface.

After another quarter mile, he neared the address he’d been given. The houses themselves were rustic and set far back from the road, with long, paved, gated driveways. Pines lined most of the yards, along with hardwoods that had obviously been growing for hundreds of years. It was a truly beautiful area.

The Dodd house was in a cul-de-sac with five other houses and up a small rise, nestled into the base of a rocky hill. It was a beautiful, stone home, with tall windows in the front. The front yard was manicured sharply, and he could still see the diagonal lines from the final mow beneath the melting snow. Flower beds circled the house, covered with straw to protect next year’s blooms. The house was lined with ropes of clear Christmas lights, and he had a feeling it was beautiful at night. He parked his truck as out of the way as he could and grabbed the file as he slipped out. For a moment, he held onto the door handle as he got his legs beneath him, then he turned and headed up the walk.

The giant wood and glass entry doors swung open before he could even ring the bell, and an older woman looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “You must be the one who’s going to save my Cookie.”

Rowdy fought not to wince. He forced a smile for the older woman and held out his hand. “Rowdy West, from Lost and Found.”

“Come in, come in. I’m Georgette Dodd.”

Georgette Dodd had to be in her seventies, but she had the well-preserved look of a woman with money. He didn’t doubt that she’d done a little nip and tuck, but whoever had done it had done an exceptional job. Her gray hair was short and swept back from her face, and she stood tall, though her hand was swollen with arthritis.

A second woman stood inside, but Mrs. Dodd didn’t even seem to notice her. As Rowdy walked through the doors, the nameless woman closed them behind him. Knowing that she could be a resource, he held out a hand to her. “Rowdy West.”

The woman seemed flustered, but she shook his hand. “Linda. I’m the housekeeper.” Then she glanced away.

Rowdy turned and followed Mrs. Dodd. She led him past several expansive, well-appointed rooms, one of which had a massive live fir Christmas tree, then into a much smaller, cozy room. Rowdy assumed Mrs. Dodd spent a lot of time here, because there were several personal items scattered around the room. It looked lived in and homey.

Mrs. Dodd sank into a worn armchair and glanced down to the side. There was an expensive looking miniature couch dog bed in purple velvet, draped with a white fluffy blanket.

“This is where my Cookie stays, right beside me, all the time. He never leaves my side, unless he has to go poo-poo.”

Rowdy blinked and forced his face to stay still, though his lips twitched. “And how often does he have to go poo-poo?”

The guys on his team would have roasted him if they’d heard him say those words. They never would have let him live them down, either.

“About three times a day. She takes him out.”

The older woman waved a hand over her shoulder, he assumed at the housekeeper. Was she always that dismissive with the help? Or was she being cold because she thought the woman lost her dog?

Rowdy focused on Linda. “How many times a day do you take Cookie out?”

Linda wiggled a hand. “About six times a day, sometimes more if his tum-tum is upset.”

The housekeeper’s eyes flicked to Mrs. Dodd and the older woman’s lips tightened, but she lifted her chin. “He loves his treats.”

Rowdy glanced at Linda. Her lips flattened as well and she crossed her arms beneath her breasts, looking away. It was obvious this was a bone of contention between the two of them.

“Cookie is a hero and he deserves to be pampered a little.” Mrs. Dodd’s blue eyes lit up as she smiled. “Did they tell you he was a hero?”

Rowdy shook his head. “No. How was he a hero?”

Mrs. Dodd folded her hands in her lap and straightened. “Well, it was a few years ago when we were having those terrible wildfires. We had let Cookie out to do his poo-poo, and he went all the way to the back corner of the yard and started barking. It wasn’t his normal bark and when we investigated, we discovered that an ember had flown over the mountain and started to smolder. We were all in danger, Rowdy! And my Cookie saved us!”

Rowdy smiled slightly at the woman’s enthusiasm. “He sounds very courageous.”

He caught Linda’s eye roll out of his periphery.

“I have Christmas hope in my heart that you will find him, Rowdy,” Mrs. Dodd told him.

No pressure, or anything, Rowdy thought with an inward sigh. “And where was he last seen?”

“I can show you,” Linda murmured, heading toward the door.