Chapter 1: The Empty Leash
“Buddy’s gone!””
The little girl’s scream tore through the living room just as the front door slammed against the wall.
Seven-year-old Maya Carter stood in the doorway, her small fingers wrapped around a yellow dog leash. Her cheeks were wet, her breathing uneven, and the leash dragged across the hardwood floor behind her.
There was no dog attached to it.
Renee Mitchell, sitting on the cream-colored sofa in her blue shirt, froze with a glass of iced tea halfway to her mouth.
Across the room, an older Black man in a mustard-yellow sweater slowly lowered his newspaper.
His name was Walter Carter.
And the expression on his face changed the moment he saw that empty leash.
“Sweetheart, what happened?”” Walter asked.
Maya ran toward him.
“Grandpa! Buddy's not outside!””
Walter immediately stood.
“What do you mean he's not outside?””
“I looked everywhere!”” Maya cried.
“His bowl is there. His blanket is there. But Buddy isn't!””
Behind Walter, his adult son, Marcus, stepped away from the fireplace.
Marcus wore a green shirt and had the same deep-set eyes as his father. He had been visiting since breakfast, hoping to spend a quiet Sunday with his daughter before returning to work.
Now he stared at the yellow leash in Maya's hands.
“Wait,” Marcus said.
“Didn't you leave Buddy in the backyard?””
Maya shook her head.
“I was playing with him this morning. Then Mommy told me to get my shoes.””
Renee placed her glass on the coffee table.
“Maya, honey, don't get hysterical.””
Marcus turned toward her.
“Where's Buddy?””
Renee adjusted the sleeve of her blue shirt.
“I don't know, Marcus. I assumed your father had taken care of him.””
Walter's eyebrows drew together.
“Taken care of what?””
“The gate,” Renee answered.
Marcus looked at his father.
“He left the gate open... Dad?””
Walter stared at him.
“I locked that gate!””
“Are you sure?””
“Marcus, I have locked that gate every morning for three years. Don't stand there and question me.””
Renee gave a small, tired sigh.
“Walter, you complained about the dog constantly. You said he was making too much noise. You said he was destroying the garden.””
Walter turned toward her.
“I said he chewed one of my gardening gloves. I never said I wanted him gone.””
“You also said this house wasn't a kennel.””
“Because Buddy keeps digging up my tomatoes!””
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
“Can we stop arguing for a second? Maya is crying. We need to find the dog.””
Maya clutched the leash against her chest.
“Grandpa wouldn't let Buddy go.””
Walter's face softened.
He crouched in front of her.
“No, baby. I wouldn't.””
“But Mommy said he was going somewhere.””
The room went silent.
Marcus slowly looked at Renee.
“What did she just say?””
Renee blinked.
“Maya is confused.””
“No, I'm not!”” Maya protested.
“You told me Buddy was going on a special trip yesterday!””
Renee stood.
“Maya, that's enough.””
The little girl flinched.
Marcus noticed.
He also noticed something else.
His wife wasn't asking where Buddy had gone.
She wasn't suggesting they search the neighborhood, call animal control, or check the security cameras.
She was watching the front door.
As if she were waiting for someone.
“Renee,” Marcus said quietly, “what aren't you telling us?””
She picked up her glass again.
“I'm not doing this with you.””
Walter walked toward the sliding glass doors.
“I'll check the backyard.””
Marcus followed.
Outside, the morning sunlight stretched across the patio. The grass was damp from the sprinklers, and Buddy's favorite tennis ball sat beneath the wooden bench.
Walter inspected the gate.
It was closed.
The metal latch was secured.
He pulled it twice.
“See?”” Walter called.
“Locked.””
Marcus approached.
“Could someone have opened it from the outside?””
“Not without climbing the fence.””
They examined the ground.
There were no muddy paw prints leading toward the street. No broken fence panels. No obvious signs of a struggle.
Then Marcus noticed something.
The small metal hook beside the back door was empty.
Buddy's red collar usually hung there when the dog wasn't wearing it.
“Dad?””
Walter looked up.
“What?””
“Where's his collar?””
Walter stared at the empty hook.
“I don't know.””
Marcus walked around the patio, checking beneath the chairs and along the garden beds.
Then he saw a faint scratch on the wooden gate.
Three fresh marks.
Like something metal had scraped against it.
He crouched to inspect them.
“Dad, did you use your keys this morning?””
Walter frowned.
“My keys?””
“Your house keys. The gate has that little security lock.””
“No. I used the combination.””
Marcus stood.
“What combination?””
Walter gave him a strange look.
“The one I've had since your mother was alive.””
Marcus looked toward the house.
Through the glass, he could see Renee standing in the living room.
She wasn't watching them.
She was looking down at her phone.
Her thumbs were moving quickly.
“Dad,” Marcus whispered, “I think we need to check the cameras.””
Walter nodded.
They returned inside.
Renee immediately put her phone into her pocket.
“What are you two doing?””
“Checking the security footage,” Marcus answered.
“Why?””
“Because Buddy didn't simply disappear.””
Renee's expression tightened.
Walter moved toward the television.
“Show him the camera recordings, son.””
Marcus opened the home security application.
The backyard camera showed the previous evening.
At 8:42 p.m., Buddy was lying near his kennel.
At 9:13 p.m., Renee walked into the backyard carrying a small white bag.
At 9:16 p.m., the camera feed went black.
Marcus frowned.
“What happened?””
Walter leaned closer.
“That's strange.””
Marcus tapped the recording.
The screen displayed a notification.
*CAMERA DISCONNECTED MANUALLY.*
He looked at Renee.
“Did you turn off the camera?””
Renee folded her arms.
“I don't know anything about your cameras.””
“Your phone is connected to the system.””
“So is yours.””
Marcus stared at her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the doorbell rang.
Maya jumped.
Walter looked toward the entrance.
“Were you expecting somebody?””
Renee didn't answer.
The doorbell rang again.
Marcus walked to the front door and opened it.
A woman in a dark gray uniform stood on the porch, holding a clipboard against her chest.
She appeared to be in her forties, with a neat ponytail and a professional expression.
“Good morning,” she said.
“I'm with North Valley Animal Transport.””
Marcus glanced at the company logo.
“Can I help you?””
The woman checked a sheet of paper.
“I'm looking for Renee Mitchell.””
Behind him, Renee went completely still.
Marcus turned around.
“Renee?””
The employee stepped forward.
“Renee, I need your signature.””
Maya tightened her grip on the yellow leash.
Walter slowly rose from his chair.
Marcus looked at the clipboard.
“What?””
The employee glanced between the family members.
May you like
“Yesterday's dog pick-up.””
And for the first time that morning, Renee looked genuinely afraid.
