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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

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enough to hide a man standing between them. His pace changed there. Slower. More deliberate. He paused at a sapling with bark rubbed raw, the pale inner wood exposed where cable had worried it again and again.


Grant crouched beside him. “What is it?”

Atlas moved on.

Ray followed, breathing hard through his nose as the slope continue reading …

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