Abby and Rhonda stood at the window, shocked by Henry's crazed departure.

"What just happened?" asked Rhonda.

"I don't know," Abby said, still bewildered. "He's never done anything like that before."

"Do you think it's possible that—" Rhonda stopped, seemingly afraid to finish the sentence.

Abby met her troubled gaze. "We have to find him."

She grabbed his leash and headed out the door.

"Where might he go?" Rhonda asked as she followed.

"I don't know. I usually take him to the park. Let's go there."

***

Two hours later they were back in her apartment, and Abby was pacing in frustration. They had gone around the block and to the park, searching and shouting his name. He was nowhere to be seen.

"I don't understand," Abby wailed. "Why would he bolt like that? Am I a bad dog mom? Did we scare him?"

Rhonda opened her mouth, and hesitated.

Abby noticed. "You have an idea?"

Rhonda seemed about to speak, but shook her head vigorously instead. She cleared her throat. "Tomorrow we'll go to the dog shelter. We'll see if he got picked up, and if not, we can report him lost."

Abby wrung her hands. "Okay." What else could they do?

***

The following morning, she was up early. She wandered around her apartment, hoping against hope that Henry might have found his way back home. She had left the window open on purpose, just in case.

But no Henry.

She thought back to last night again, trying to go over every detail. What could have spooked Henry? Could it be he was psychotic? Her aunt Greta once had a snowy white cat with gorgeous blue eyes. It was beautiful, but crazy. It would be sitting on a table one moment, casually cleaning its paws, and then for no apparent reason it would bolt and rampage around the room in violent, claw-filled circles, only to settle down again by the window. Was that what happened to Henry?

At long last, Rhonda arrived as promised and they both went to the shelter where Abby had adopted Henry. Rhonda drove, mostly because she couldn't stand Abby's old car. Even though they used to share it.

Abby noticed her friend glance at her a few times, looking worried. "I'm okay," she assured. "I'm not going to have a crying fit or anything." She'd only had him for a couple weeks. Secondly... his behavior was kind of eerie. The way he seemed to understand every word she said, the way he looked at her in the bathroom. It was unsettling.

They finally arrived and Abby headed straight for the front office. She found Ruth there again, looking as stern as ever, shuffling papers and flipping her sensible, blond ponytail back and forth as her head turned. She looked up as Abby approached. Her eyes didn't look as tired as the last time, probably because the day had just started.

"How can I help you?" she asked, not recognizing Abby.

"Hi, I'm the one who adopted Henry-"

"Oh yes!" Ruth exclaimed, recognition finally lighting her eyes. "I remember now. You really saved that dog's life. I didn't think he had a chance."

"Yes, well, I'm hoping to save it again."

"Oh?" Ruth's smile disappeared. She peered at Abby for answers and then looked at Rhonda. "What's happened?"

"Henry jumped out of my window and ran away."

"Out of the window?" Ruth's eyebrows shot up. "I hope you live on the first floor."

"Oh yes, I'm on the—"

"Was there a fire?"

"Fire? No, he—"

"Was he was trying to follow you somewhere?"

"No, I was at home talking to—"

"Then what made him jump out the window?" Ruth's brows lowered into a frown. "Is he being abused at home?"

"What? No! I would never! Has he been brought here by any chance?"

"When did this happen?"

"Last night."

"I'm afraid it's still too soon. I'll keep a lookout though and file a report. If Henry is brought in, we'll notify you."

Abby nodded. "You remember what he looks like?"

Ruth's face remained business-like. She probably saw hundreds of frantic pet owners a week. "We don't have to. He has a microchip that has all his information on it. We'll notify you if we find him."

Abby wasn't sure what to do next. Ruth's tone was one of dismissal. As Abby was about to turn around to leave, Rhonda spoke up.

"Could you please look up Henry's record and tell us where he was first found?"

Rhonda was brilliant! Maybe he went back there. Maybe his previous owner lived around there. It was a great place to resume searching.

Without protest, Ruth went to the computer and punched in some codes. They could do nothing else but wait while Ruth clicked, peered at the screen, and clicked some more. "Sorry, this thing is probably older than I am."

At long last, Ruth scribbled the name of an intersection onto a scrap of paper and handed it to Abby.

"Thank you so much!" Abby said and eagerly read what was written. She frowned and then shrugged. "I don't know this place, do you?"

Rhonda took the paper and read it. She exhaled sharply, her face ashen. "I don't believe it," she whispered.

"What is it?" Abby asked, concerned at her friend's pallor.

Rhonda glanced nervously at Ruth—who was no longer paying attention to them—and then back at Abby.

"What?" Abby demanded, concerned by Rhonda's skittishness.

Rhonda grabbed Abby's arm and ushered her out the door, then anxiously scanned the parking lot.

"Is someone stalking you?" Abby whispered, her eyes scanning the cars around them.

"This!" Rhonda practically hissed and shook the scrap in Abby's face.

Abby didn't understand. "This paper is stalking you."

"No! This is the same intersection where..." Rhonda's voice faltered.

Abby had never before seen her friend act like this. Hysteria and paranoia were as foreign to Rhonda as bland cooking. She grasped both of Rhonda's arms in an effort to steady her friend's wild nerves. "Take a deep breath. Tell me what's gotten you so worked up."

Rhonda looked up at her and swallowed hard. She took a steadying breath. "This was the intersection where Bert was killed."

"Are you serious?" Abby's mouth dropped open. Was it a crazy coincidence, or... something more?

"I won't soon forget it." The corners of Rhonda's mouth tugged downward. "I didn't love him or anything, but I feel partly responsible for... for what happened."

"I had no idea." Abby put an arm around her friend.

"He was the sweetest man. I shouldn't have let him leave in the state he was in."

"It wasn't your fault," Abby soothed.

"I know." Rhonda stared at the scrap of paper again. "But what does this mean?"

"Let's go there," Abby suggested. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Rhonda nodded, and off they went.

***

The intersection wasn't anything special. It wasn't busy or large. It wasn't even a four-way stop. Only one set of stop signs for the small street.

"I came here once." Rhonda's eyes lost focus. "In a fit of guilt. I don't know what I expected to find. There wasn't even any broken glass."

"I can't imagine how you must have felt," Abby said as she looked around. "You break up with him, and then he dies tragically because he can't see through his tears."

"Abby, you are not helping."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Let's just go take a look."

Wonder what they'll find... votes? ;-)