Sarah read the date again.
Tomorrow.
The word seemed to sit on the page like a warning rather than a date. She looked at Daniel, then at Cooper. The golden retriever was standing beside Milo, his body angled protectively toward the puppy.
“Where is this kennel?” Sarah asked.
“About forty miles from here.”
“How long?”
“Forty-five minutes without traffic.”
Sarah glanced at the clock.
“We're going now.”
Daniel shook his head.
“It's nearly midnight.”
“Then we have less time.”
“We need authorization.”
“For what?”
“To enter the property.”
Sarah pointed toward the photograph.
“Daisy is there.”
“We don't know that.”
“You just said the photograph is six months old.”
“And the note says she was moved before an inspection.”
Sarah's voice dropped.
“Which is tomorrow.”
Daniel looked away.
He knew she was right.
The private kennel was not listed as an active rescue facility. It operated under a boarding license held by a company called Meadow Ridge Animal Services. On paper, nothing connected it to North Valley or the old East Creek operation.
But the photographs did.
The numbered markings did.
The records did.
And now Daisy did.
Daniel called the county investigator.
No answer.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Sarah stood.
“I'm going.”
Daniel sighed.
“Then I'm coming with you.”
They left the building through the rear entrance.
Milo rode in a secured crate.
Cooper refused to settle until the crate was positioned beside him.
Sarah drove.
Daniel sat in the passenger seat with the old photograph on his lap.
Rain had stopped, but the roads were wet. Streetlights reflected across the windshield in long, trembling lines.
For twenty minutes neither of them spoke.
Then Daniel said, “There's something I haven't told you.”
Sarah kept her eyes on the road.
“What?”
“I knew Daisy was alive.”
Sarah's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“That isn't what you said.”
“I didn't have proof.”
“You had a photograph.”
“I had a photograph of her six months ago.”
“And you kept it from me.”
Daniel looked down.
“I was trying to protect the investigation.”
Sarah laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“I know.”
“You knew Cooper's mother might be alive.”
“I didn't know if she was still there.”
Sarah glanced at him.
“Did you ever see her?”
“No.”
“Then who took the photograph?”
“Lena.”
Sarah remembered the image.
Lena standing beside Victor.
The photograph had been taken six months ago.
“So Lena knew where Daisy was.”
“Yes.”
“And she never told us.”
Daniel's silence answered.
Cooper suddenly lifted his head in the back seat.
Milo began whining.
Sarah looked in the mirror.
“What is it?”
Cooper stared through the rear window.
A dark vehicle had appeared behind them.
It kept the same distance through three turns.
Daniel noticed.
“Don't speed up.”
“I wasn't.”
“Take the next exit.”
Sarah did.
The vehicle followed.
Her heart began beating faster.
“Do you know it?”
Daniel looked into the side mirror.
“No.”
Sarah turned onto a narrow road.
The vehicle continued behind them.
Cooper began barking.
Milo answered.
Daniel reached for his phone.
“I'll call the sheriff.”
The vehicle suddenly turned away.
It disappeared down another road.
Sarah slowed.
Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
Then Daniel said, “Keep going.”
The private kennel stood behind a tall wooden fence.
There was no sign.
No brightly painted entrance.
Only a narrow driveway disappearing between trees.
Sarah parked several hundred yards away.
They approached on foot.
Cooper stayed beside Sarah.
Milo remained in the crate.
Daniel used a flashlight with a red filter.
The property was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then they heard dogs.
Several.
The barking came from behind the main building.
Sarah felt Cooper pull forward.
“Easy.”
He stopped.
They reached the fence.
Through the gaps, Sarah could see rows of outdoor runs.
Most were empty.
A few contained dogs.
She counted seven.
Then eight.
Then nine.
Daniel photographed them.
“Some have numbers.”
Sarah looked.
One gate carried a small metal plate.
Five.
Another showed Seven.
A third showed Nine.
Sarah's stomach tightened.
“It's the same system.”
Daniel nodded.
Cooper was staring toward the far end of the property.
Sarah followed his gaze.
A larger kennel stood beneath a covered roof.
Something moved inside.
A golden dog.
Sarah stopped breathing.
The animal turned.
Even at a distance, Sarah recognized the white marking on the chest.
Daisy.
Cooper made a low sound.
Not a bark.
A trembling whine.
Daisy lifted her head.
She heard him.
Her body stiffened.
Then she rushed toward the fence.
Cooper pulled forward so hard that Sarah nearly lost the leash.
“Cooper!”
Daisy was barking now.
The other dogs joined.
The entire kennel yard erupted.
Daniel stared.
“She knows him.”
Sarah's eyes filled.
Daisy stood against the gate, looking directly at Cooper.
He strained toward her.
Sarah wanted to open the gate.
Daniel caught her arm.
“Not yet.”
“That's his mother.”
“We need to get her out safely.”
The building lights came on.
Daniel pulled Sarah behind a storage shed.
A door opened.
A man stepped outside.
Victor Hale.
He looked across the kennel yard.
Then toward the road.
His eyes stopped on the place where Sarah and Daniel were hiding.
Daniel whispered, “We're leaving.”
Sarah shook her head.
“No.”
“Sarah.”
“I found her.”
Victor walked toward the kennels.
Daisy backed away.
Cooper began growling.
Victor stopped.
He looked directly toward the trees.
“You shouldn't have come.”
Sarah stepped out.
Daniel grabbed her shoulder.
She pulled free.
“You have my dog's mother.”
Victor's expression remained blank.
“She isn't yours.”
“She belongs with him.”
Victor looked at Cooper.
For a moment, something like recognition crossed his face.
Then he said, “You don't understand what you're looking at.”
Sarah walked closer.
“I understand enough.”
Victor glanced at Milo's crate.
His face changed.
“Where did you get that puppy?”
Sarah stepped in front of Milo.
“Why?”
Victor stared at the puppy.
“Because that dog should not be alive.”
Daniel immediately reached for his phone.
Victor turned away.
“Take them and leave.”
“Who is they?” Sarah asked.
Victor did not answer.
Sarah pointed toward Daisy.
“And her?”
Victor looked at the golden dog.
“She was supposed to be moved tonight.”
“Where?”
He hesitated.
“Another facility.”
“Why?”
“Because the inspection is tomorrow.”
Sarah's voice hardened.
“You've been moving them before inspections.”
Victor said nothing.
Daniel stepped forward.
“We have photographs.”
Victor looked at him.
“You have no idea how many people are involved.”
“Then tell us.”
Victor shook his head.
“It's too late.”
Sarah looked toward Daisy.
“Why?”
Victor's eyes returned to Milo.
“Because someone has already started moving the records.”
Sarah felt cold.
“What records?”
Victor pointed toward the main building.
“Everything.”
A sound came from inside.
A door slammed.
Victor turned sharply.
For the first time, he looked frightened.
Daniel noticed.
“Who's in there?”
Victor did not answer.
Another door slammed.
Then a dog screamed.
Cooper lunged toward the building.
Sarah ran after him.
Victor shouted, “Stop!”
But Sarah was already moving.
She had spent months being told to wait.
To trust paperwork.
To let investigators handle it.
Now a dog was crying behind a locked door.
She was done waiting.
Click Here to continue read next: PART6: The Locked Room Held More Than Missing Records, and Sarah Finally Learned Why Victor Had Been Terrified of the People Moving Through the Building
The Moment Sarah Handed Over the Leash, the Golden Dog Looked Up at Her as Though He Already Knew Something Was Wrong
Part 5 of 16
