She smiled and relaxed slightly. “I hear you,” she said. “I guess I was hoping you wouldn’t turn around and take off right away.”
“No, that’s not the plan,” he said.
Her smile brightened, then she nodded and drove out of the parking lot. “Good. A rental agency is up here, if that’s okay?”
“As long as it’s one of the big companies, it will be fine,” he said.
Once she had parked, he hopped out and went inside. Daniela got Sari out of her car seat and held her as a precaution, not knowing how Shambhala would react with Weston gone.
Once inside, Weston asked to rent a truck, preferably one with a large cab and a canopy. It took about fifteen minutes to get the paperwork done, and he came out with a set of keys. Walking to the back seat, he pulled out Shambhala, then turned and walked around to where Daniela was buckling Sari back in.
“I’ll take the dog to the police station to make sure there’s no paperwork involved in keeping her, and then I’ll head back to your place.”
“What about going out to Grant and Ginger’s house?”
He frowned. “I forgot about that. I guess I’ll wait and see what the cops say, then maybe head there next. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to see if Shambhala has things there. Maybe she needs to find some closure herself.”
“That’s probably a good idea. On the other hand, I don’t know about just leaving the two of you alone.”
“Why not?” he asked with a frown.
She shrugged. “I get the feeling you can get into trouble without much effort.”
He chuckled. “Maybe so, but we’ll be okay.”
She looked at Sari and said, “Maybe I’ll just take her home then.”
“Is there anything you need for the next couple of days that I can pick up?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’ll just pick up a few groceries on my way home.”
“Well, here. Let me give you some money at least,” he said, pulling out his wallet, and he gave her a few hundred dollars. “Go ahead and stock up on whatever you need. I’m pretty low maintenance. I can live on coffee, bread and something for sandwiches. A steak once in a while.”
She nodded and smiled. “I can handle that.”
“Okay, give me an hour or two.” He checked his watch. “I’ll give you a call and check in.” With that, he said goodbye and headed to his new vehicle.
Weston loaded Shambhala into the front seat of the rental truck and hopped into the driver’s seat. He could see that Daniela was heading back out the way they had come, while he was heading to the police station.
As soon as he got there, he parked and took Shambhala out, still with just the rope on her, and walked up to the front door. Once inside, he asked to speak to Detective Kruger. The woman looked at him in surprise. “I spoke to him about this dog earlier.”
She nodded and told him to wait a moment. She made a couple calls, but Weston couldn’t hear what was going on. A few minutes later he looked up to see a salt-and-pepper-haired man walking through a side door with his hand out.
“I’m Detective Kruger,” he said.
Weston smiled, shook his hand and introduced them. “This is Shambhala.”
He looked at the dog in surprise. “Wow. How did you get a hold of her so fast? You appear to be on first-name basis already.” He studied the dog. Shambhala was alert but not aggressive.
“We found her behind the feedstore,” Weston said. “I was hoping to take a trip up to Grant and Ginger’s place, take a look around to see just how Shambhala was living.”
The detective nodded. “That’s fine with me, and nobody’s living there at the moment.”
“Did they own the property?”
“Yes, it appears they did,” the detective answered. “We contacted Grant’s brother, Gregory, but haven’t heard anything since.”
“Right,” Weston said. “If you’re not from Alaska, it would be hard to know what to do with property up here, I suppose.”
“Exactly.”
Weston handed over a Titanium Corp business card with his cell phone number and his name written on the back. “If you get any information on the case, I’d appreciate knowing about it.”
“You don’t think their deaths have anything to do with the dog, do you?”
“Not sure, I just want to make sure it doesn’t,” Weston said.
“And if it does?” the detective challenged.
Weston frowned at him. “I’m staying at Daniela Rogers’s place. She’s adopted my daughter. The last thing I want to do is introduce any danger to them.”
“Is picking up a dog that’s been running wild going to do that?” the detective asked with a frown.
“I want to make sure that’s not the case.” On that note, he said, “We’ll head out now, so we can get back in time for dinner.” As he turned away, pulling Shambhala’s rope, he noticed she seemed to be keeping an eye on a nearby detective a little too closely. Was it his suit? Bringing back memories of her old life?
Weston and the dog walked back outside, where they both hopped into the front seat of the rental truck. Weston pulled up his GPS and plugged in the address where Shambhala had been staying. It was a good twenty minutes there as he had to cross town, but then they’d been homesteading, so that made sense. He set the GPS for directions, and, following the computerized voice, he headed out toward Shambhala’s old home. Almost as soon as they hit the outskirts of town heading in the right direction, Shambhala sat up with interest.
“I’m sorry you can’t stay out there anymore, girl,” Weston said. “It just won’t work now.”
Shambhala didn’t appear to notice what he was saying, and the closer they got to the homestead, the more she seemed to relax and to be
