"Yoo-hoo! Mrs Kassell!"

Emily paused on her walk home from Ginny's bakery.

Dora hurred across the street. "Did you see a little spotted spaniel run past? She slipped her leash and took off!" She held up leash and collar.

Emily saw at a glance the bright gossamer strand stretching away from the collar, the wisp that linked an object to its owner even when separated. Something impossible to explain to anyone without cat-sight – which meant almost everyone else. "Which way'd she go?"

"I was too far behind. By the time I rounded that last corner, Muffin had vanished. Do you think she darted into someone's yard?"

"I'll come with you. Two sets of eyes, and all. How about we go that way?" Emily pretended to look into side yards, but shepherded Dora to the next corner and down to the woods at the end. "I'll bet Muffin chased a rabbit. All kinds of wonderful smells in among the trees. You take that trail. I'll take this one. Yell if you find her."

Emily left her trail and plunged into the underbrush, following the runaway's shining ribbon. Brambles snagged at her full skirt. Pushing through a patch of Oregon grape left purple spots on the patterned green fabric.

"Bet that won't wash out," she muttered.

She spotted the spaniel snuffling in the duff under a Douglas Fir. Knowing how dogs love a game of can't-catch-me, she didn't approach, but settled onto a fallen trunk and drew out the pastry meant for a bed-time snack. "Mm, yum," she murmured.

In moments Muffin trotted over to beg a bite. Emily scooped up her new friend, feeding her nibbles. "All right, runaway, time to go home," she cooed into one floppy ear. "Where's that trail?"

Men's voices yelled. Footsteps pounded, coming uphill. One figure hurtled into sight, then tumbled when he was tackled by his pursuer.

"Where'd you hide it?" the bigger man barked. "Spill, or I'll spill your guts!"

"Kill me and you'll never find it," his captive gasped, "so back off!"

Emily edged behind a tree, Muffin trembling in her arms. "Quiet!" she soothed, wrapping gentle fingers around the dog's muzzle.

"Won't have to kill you. Kill your girlfriend instead! Then you'll talk."

"Lame threat! The two-timing whore left me. Gone back to Seattle. Or Portland. Maybe Vancouver, I dunno."

"Who's the two-timer? You cheatin' us outta our share of the loot!"

"You want your share, take that pig-sticker outta my ribs!"

The larger man half rose but then lunged.

The other fellow screamed. "My hand! My hand!"

"Don't have to kill you, nah. I'll just take your fingers off one at a time."

Emily's nerve broke. She clutched Muffin tight and darted uphill, away from the crooks, crashing through stands of vine maple and hurdles of sword ferns.

"Who's that?" shouted a furious voice. Footsteps thudded in pursuit.

Emily broke out onto a trail. Up ahead stood Dora, face white at the racket. "Run!" Emily yelled. "Before they spot us!"

.

prompt: "spot"