Find Her Alive (Detective Josie Quinn #8) - Lisa Regan Page 0,1
A pair of soulful brown eyes stared back.
He huffed at her and sat down, his smooshy black and white face a study in seriousness, his ears perfect steeples. Without even moving his mouth, he emitted another small whine. She rubbed beneath his chin.
“What time is it, buddy?” she asked sleepily, although she didn’t even have to look at her bedside clock to know that her alarm was due to go off in ten minutes—at least, on a work day it would be, but today she was off. In the six months since she and her live-in boyfriend, Noah Fraley, had rescued Trout, they’d developed something of a routine. The dog woke them just before their alarm went off, Josie would let him out, feed him, and then the three of them would go for a brief jog before the humans got ready and went off to work. Even on days off, Trout was persistent about keeping to their routine.
Josie and Noah both worked for the city of Denton’s police department—she as a detective and he as a lieutenant. Denton was nestled in the mountains of central Pennsylvania, spanning approximately twenty-five square miles. In the central area of the city where the retail establishments, police headquarters, post office, and Denton University were located, the streets and buildings were grouped closely together in a predictable grid pattern except for the sprawling city park. The rest of the city was spread out over rural wooded areas, accessible by ribbons of single-lane winding roads. Although Denton was a small city, it was no stranger to crime, and the police department stayed busy.
Josie rolled over and nudged Noah’s shoulder. “Time to get up,” she told him, getting only a grunt in response.
“Come on,” she added.
“Put the coffee on, would you?” Noah mumbled.
Josie threw her legs over the side of the bed. Excitedly, Trout jumped down, his rear end wiggling as he ran toward the bedroom door. Josie turned her alarm clock off and padded out into the hallway and downstairs. Twenty minutes later, Trout was fed, both Josie and Noah had consumed one quick cup of coffee, and then dressed in their running clothes. Josie knelt on the foyer floor, trying to coax Trout’s trembling body into his harness while Noah went upstairs to get his phone.
“We do this every morning, buddy,” Josie murmured as she tried to snap the harness across Trout’s back. “You know you have to keep still while I get this on.”
Trout couldn’t contain his excitement. He jumped up to lick her face, and the harness fell half off him. Josie laughed which made him hop around, his little rear end wriggling until he bumped the foyer table. The table was small. It didn’t take much to knock it out of place. Trout knocked into it again, and it slid a few inches across the floor. Two sets of keys and a pair of sunglasses clattered to the floor.
“Shit,” Josie said, snatching up the sunglasses before Trout accidentally stepped on them, relief flooding through her.
Noah jogged down the steps. Seeing Josie with the sunglasses in her hand, he said, “Your sister still hasn’t come back for those? She’s probably got another pair by now.”
Josie placed them back on the table, along with their keys, and tried once more to wrestle Trout into his harness. “Noah, we’re talking about Trinity here. Do you have any idea how much those sunglasses cost? Do you even know what brand those are?”
He knelt on the floor and pointed to the area in front of him. Dutifully, Trout scampered over and sat down, letting Noah secure harness, leash, and collar with ease.
“Traitor,” Josie muttered.
Noah said, “Why would I know what brand Trinity’s sunglasses are?”
Josie rolled her eyes as they made their way out the front door and took off in a slow jog down the street with Trout leading the way. “They’re Gucci, and I’m guessing they cost at least three hundred dollars, maybe more.”
Noah stopped in his tracks, pulling Trout up short on his leash. The dog looked back at them curiously, his ears pointed. Noah said, “Who would pay three hundred dollars for a pair of sunglasses?”
Josie took the leash from his hand and they started moving again. He caught up with her. She replied, “A news anchor for a major network morning show, that’s who. She’s a celebrity. She can afford three hundred-dollar sunglasses.”
Noah shook his head. “Is she still co-hosting? When’s the last time you heard from her?”