Chapter 3 - The Tracks Through the Mud
Walter followed the tire marks with his eyes.
The ground was soft from two days of rain.
A vehicle had backed through the weeds and stopped beside the refrigerator.
The tracks curved toward a narrow service path between the abandoned farmhouse and Eleanor’s land.
“They’re recent,” Walter said.
Eleanor shook her head.
“People dump trash here all the time.”
“Not since the county chained the front gate.”
Walter had purchased the foreclosed property that morning at auction.
Only three people knew he would inspect it that day.
The county clerk.
Walter’s attorney.
And Eleanor, who had called him the night before asking whether he planned to clear the backyard.
Cooper whimpered.
Walter returned to him immediately.
He wrapped the blanket around the dog’s body and lifted him against his chest.
Eleanor stepped forward.
“Let me hold him.”
Cooper recoiled weakly at her voice.
Walter felt the movement.
So did Eleanor.
Her hand froze.
“He’s frightened,” Walter said.
“He doesn’t recognize me.”
“You called him by name before you saw the tag.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened.
“I heard you say it.”
“No. I hadn’t read it yet.”
A long silence settled over the yard.
The wind pushed weeds against the rusted refrigerator.
Walter carried Cooper toward his truck.
Eleanor followed several steps behind.
At the passenger door, Walter stopped.
“You’re coming with me.”
“To the clinic?”
“To explain why a starving dog wearing your address was sealed inside a refrigerator forty yards from your house.”
Eleanor looked toward the path again.
Then she whispered, “You don’t understand what will happen if he finds out Cooper survived.”
Walter’s jaw tightened.
“Who is he?”
Eleanor immediately shook her head.
May you like
“I didn’t say anything.”
👉 But Walter had heard enough to know Eleanor was protecting someone more dangerous than herself.
