He thought he was checking out illegal logging in the Idaho mountains-until he found a German Shepherd locked in a frozen cage, staring at him like it had been waiting for exactly one person

of timber. “That’s him.”

Grant did not reach for the phone. “You have vet records?”

The smile thinned. “He’s a work dog.”

“Microchip?”

“Don’t know about that.”

“Proof he belongs to you?”

The red-faced man laughed once. “You always ask this many questions before giving back stolen property?”

Atlas made a sound then, deep and controlled. Not loud. Enough.

Grant continue reading …