spoken. It didn’t matter. They both knew what they had. And it was more than enough to propel him to Manhattan.
He’d heard Casey’s tone.
She was scared.
And, in his opinion, she had reason to be.
Hutch zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Then he scooped up his car keys and headed for the door.
Ten minutes later, he was on the road.
* * *
Maura Harris loved her job.
She’d worked in all aspects of veterinary care since she was a teenager and had volunteered at an animal clinic cleaning out kennel cages. Now she was applying to veterinary schools, hoping to one day fulfill her dream and run her own animal clinic.
In the meantime, she worked at the Canine Palace, a posh full-service inn for dogs, located in Tribeca. She handled everything from long-term boarding to doggy day care. Her time there had reinforced what she already believed: dogs were far easier and more delightful to deal with than their owners.
She commuted from Hoboken, a short ride on the PATH train that she could do in her sleep. With her credentials, she could easily have gotten a job closer to home, but she was too attached to her regular “clientele” to make a move.
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