Chapter 10
As soon as Spicy K was gone, Hadley slipped into her office between appointments.
What had Yolanda been talking about? When had all these bad reviews of her clinic popped up online?
Hadley did a quick internet search for Blue Ridge Hollow Veterinary Clinic.
She flinched when the one-star ratings appeared on the screen.
“Everything okay?” Susie stuck her head in the office. “You look like you just marveled over an adorable cat video only to realize it was AI. Been there, done that.”
Hadley barely heard her. Instead, she stared at the reviews and shook her head. “I don’t know what to think right now. Come look at this.”
Susie crossed to the other side of the desk, peered at the laptop screen, and gasped. “What in the world . . . ?”
“That’s what I want to know. When did all these terrible reviews pop up? And why?”
Susie took over the screen and began scrolling. “None of these are even legit. I mean, they were all posted yesterday, and none of the names sound real. brH182. CatGirl70. 33MumboJumbo33. Probably fake accounts.”
That made sense. But it still didn’t make Hadley feel better.
She scanned the reviews again, flinching at each one.
~I brought my dog in for a routine checkup and left feeling completely uneasy. Dr. Chase seemed distracted and rushed, like she had somewhere else to be. She barely looked at my dog before recommending expensive tests that didn’t seem necessary. I won’t be going back.
~We were overcharged for what should have been a simple visit. When I questioned the bill, I didn’t get a clear answer, only vague explanations. It felt dishonest.
~Something about this place just feels off. I can’t put my finger on it, but I didn’t trust Dr. Chase’s judgment. If you care about your pet, I’d suggest going somewhere else, even if you have to drive thirty miles.
“These all sound like they were written by the same person.” Susie straightened and shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
Hadley leaned back in her seat. “I don’t either. Have we had any disgruntled clients lately?”
Susie shook her head. “No, everyone has seemed really happy. I mean, there was an older gentleman last week who balked at the bill. But then he said something about everything being expensive. He paid it without raising a fuss.”
Hadley continued to stare at the reviews, a sick feeling beginning to swirl in her stomach. “It’s almost like someone has a vendetta against me.”
“Who would that be?”
“I don’t know,” Hadley said. “I haven’t been in town long enough to make enemies.”
“Are you going to report this to the sheriff?”
She frowned at her computer. “I’m not sure this is a crime.”
“Maybe not.” Susie sighed. “But it should be. This can affect a person’s livelihood!”
Hadley had already thought about that. Reviews like this could shut down her business before it ever really got off the ground. She’d invested everything in this—every last cent of her savings. The money from the sale of her house—split fifty-fifty with Ethan—and the small retirement she’d saved.
Hadley reached for her coffee, which was now lukewarm, and took a sip. Her unease remained.
Susie shifted and frowned at her. “Not to be the bearer of bad news, but there is one other thing . . .”
The muscles between Hadley’s shoulders tensed. “What’s that?”
“We keep getting calls today, but there’s no one on the other end. At first, I thought it was just a bad connection. But it’s happened a few times now. I even tried calling one of the numbers back, but the call didn’t go through. I don’t know what’s going on.”
Hadley set her coffee down more carefully than necessary. “That is weird.”
Before they could talk about it anymore, the bell above the front door jangled.
Her next appointment was here.
Hadley would have to think about this more later.
Another vehicle pulled into the gas station parking lot.
A moment later, Wyatt King—the youngest King brother—stepped out, his search-and-rescue German shepherd at his side. Thunder stayed close, alert and focused, his ears pricked forward as he took in the scene.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” Wyatt said, not slowing as he approached.
“Not much,” Sheriff Sutherland said. “Clerk saw her get pulled into a truck. That’s it.”
Wyatt’s expression tightened. “All right. Then we try this.”
Max glanced at the dog. “You think he can pick up a trail from here?”
“Sometimes,” Wyatt said. “Search and rescue dogs have tracked scent from inside vehicles before. Not always. Depends on how fast they were moving, how long ago it happened . . . a lot of variables.” He shrugged. “But it’s worth trying.”
Max’s chest tightened as he looked down the stretch of road disappearing into the mountains. There were too many directions they could have gone. Too many places to disappear.
They needed something. Anything.
Sheriff Sutherland reached into his vehicle and pulled out a folded shirt. “This was left behind at the house. Figured it might help.”
Wyatt took it and crouched beside Thunder. “Okay, buddy. Find her.”
He held the shirt out.
Thunder leaned in, sniffing deeply as his nose worked to process the scent. For a second, nothing happened.
Then his posture changed. His head lifted, his ears forward and his body angled toward the road.
Wyatt straightened. “He’s got something.”
Max’s pulse kicked.
Without another word, they began moving.
Thunder led, pulling ahead as Wyatt kept a steady hold on the leash. The dog’s nose stayed low, tracking along the edge of the pavement before veering onto the shoulder.
“Easy,” Wyatt murmured, matching his pace. “That’s it.”
Max followed close behind, his gaze scanning the ground, the trees, the road ahead—anything that might confirm what the dog was finding.
At first, the trail stayed near the road.
Then Thunder shifted.
He angled forward, picking up speed and guiding them farther down the stretch of asphalt that cut through the mountains.
Max’s lungs burned as they kept up, the cold air sharp in his chest. “How long can he follow it?”
“Hard to say,” Wyatt said. “Could be a few hundred yards. Could be a mile. Could lose it any second.”
It wasn’t the answer Max wanted, but it was something. And right now, something was better than nothing.
They rounded a bend, and the road opened.
Ahead, several narrow turnoffs branched off into the trees—dirt roads that disappeared into the mountains, each one a possible route.
Max’s stomach tightened. There were too many options, too much ground to cover.
If they lost the trail here . . .
Thunder pulled toward one of the turnoffs, his body straining with purpose.
Wyatt followed without question. “He’s tracking.”
Relief hit Max hard enough to make him dizzy.
They had a direction.
Finally.
He didn’t know how long it would last. Didn’t know how far ahead Lyndee had been taken.
But as they followed the dog into the trees, one thought pushed through everything else.
Please let this be enough.
Before it was too late.