Page 78 of Surly Sheriff
The dog ran into the closet and Beau followed, heart beating in a frantic rhythm.
There was no sign of his wife.
But clothes littered the floor.
Rae’s clothes.
Shirts, jeans, shorts, sweaters. Undies.
As if she had hurriedly packed.
His eyes tracked over the area, and he sucked in a breath, noticing the empty space in the corner of the top shelf.
Her duffel bag was gone.
Kismet bumped his leg and issued a low yawp.
And the harsh yet undeniable truth sunk in.
Rae was gone.
She had left him.
“No.” The guttural word tore from his throat.
It was as if a fist punched into his chest and yanked his heart out.
His descent to the kitchen was a lot slower than his ascent.
“Where’s the note?” he demanded.
Wordlessly, Nate pointed to the notepad. “I am so sorry, brother.”
Her rings lay on top of the yellow daisy-border paper; her house keys and cellphone beside it.
“Leave,” he ordered.
“Beau—”
“Go, Nate. Just go,” he bit out.
His peripheral vision caught the man straightening. “Call if you—”
“Go!” he barked.
Nate walked out.
Kismet whimpered and slunk away.
Beau fisted the edge of the counter.
And an unbidden vision of Rae, naked, lying against the smooth granite while he worshipped her body popped into his mind.
His gut soured.
Without moving the rings, he read.
Beau,
