Page 48 of Pepper, the Biker & the Vanishing Body

Afoolish thought had my hand going to the handle to open the door, but my wiser-than-me dog shoved it away with his snout and warned me away with a growl.

The man agreed with Mo, shaking his head. His eyes were wide with fright, and he shot a quick glance to the right before he focused on me once again. Only this time he mouthed clearly enough for me to understand, DANGER, then he took off.

Mo knows me too well. He got himself between me and the door handle, blocking me from chasing after him, which I so desperately wanted to do. Instead, I grabbed my cell phone off the coffee table and called my dad.

“Don’t you dare go after him!” my dad ordered after I explained what happened. “I’m on my way and call Ian and get him over there now.”

I heard him yell, “Josh” just before he ended the call.

He didn’t give me a chance to tell him that I intended to call Ian but before I could someone dashed past the French doors. He was a blur with the rain falling so heavily. The vanishing guy was being pursued and with the possibility of him being vital to solving this mystery, I just couldn’t stand there and do nothing.

I rushed to slip on my rain boots and into my rain jacket and thought about leaving Mo behind, but that wasn’t an option since I found him sitting in front of the French doors with his vest in his mouth.

I got it on him quickly, then took a moment to send a quick text to Ian.In pursuit, two, call sheriff. Mo with me.

Mo is a brilliant dog with many talents, tracking being one of them. He took off as soon as we stepped on the deck. Dogs can track in heavy rain though the rain makes it harder for them scent-wise. From the look of it, Mo wasn’t having any difficulty following a scent.

The rain came down in sheets, turning the forest floor into a swampy obstacle course. Trees loomed overhead, their branches swatting like fly swatters, and the rain hitting the leaves with the force of rapid gunfire.

“Mo, be careful!” I called, swiping rain from my face repeatedly.

Mo raced ahead like a wolf born to the wild. Water dripped from his vest and thick coat, but he was unbothered by it, too intent on the hunt.

I caught flashes of movement in the gray blur of rain through the trees up ahead, and my heart thudded in my chest, hoping I might finally get hold of the vanishing guy.

I shouted encouragement. “You got this, Mo!”

I did my best to keep up with Mo, though if it wasn’t for the rain I doubt I would have been able to. My lungs protested, but adrenaline kept me going.

Mo slowed for a moment, his ears perking up, and with one sharp bark, he was off like a furry missile. His paws barely touched the ground as he zigzagged through the trees, a blur of wet fur and sheer determination.

I huffed, doing my best to match his pace but failing, though I did manage to keep him and one guy in sight. He was weaving through the trees, his pace slowing and I wondered if he had lost sight of the vanishing guy who might just have vanished again.

Mo didn’t hesitate, he surged forward with the force of a furry freight train.

The rain blurred everything except the moment it happened—Mo launched himself with all the precision of a canine catapult, crashing square into the guy’s side. They hit the ground hard, splashing into a puddle with a satisfying smack.

“Get this beast off me!” the man yelled with annoyance, though wisely didn’t raise his hand to Mo to push him off his chest where his paws were solidly planted.

I was panting by the time I reached Mo and was quick to praise him. “Great job, Mo! Hold him there.”

Mo’s ears twitched at my voice, but his eyes stayed locked on the guy, his stance firm and watchful like he was guarding a vault of gold.

I cast a quick look in the distance, but the rain made it impossible to see too far. The vanishing guy had vanished again.

“Call your dog off, Pepper.”

I turned, hearing my name, and stooped down some to give Mo a pat on the head, his fur drenched, reminding me we needed to bring this to an end fast, and to finally get a look at the guy Mo had captured.

It was Damian Stone.

Damian’s scowl deepened as he glared up at me, rainwater soaking his face. “This is ridiculous. Call off your mutt.”

“Not until you tell me why you were in hot pursuit of a guy in my neck of the woods like you were auditioning for a crime drama,” I said, planting my hands on my hips after standing straight. “And Mo does not take well to being called a mutt.”

Mo confirmed with a low, warning growl, and Damian’s eyes flicked to him with a mix of fear and frustration.

“Fine, fine!” Damian snapped, holding his hands up briefly in surrender. “But I’m not saying a word until you call him off.”

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