Niall Mountmarche was still watching her-assessing her. With his eyes still on her, he stooped to pick up his gun and snap it together. As Jessie’s face changed again he flicked the cartridge with his booted toe so that it lay almost at her feet.

‘You keep the cartridge,’ he said harshly. ‘I won’t shoot your precious dog. But I want to know why you think he’s on my property.’

The air whooshed out of Jessie’s lungs in a rush. She stooped to retrieve the cartridge and shoved it deep into her pocket-before the man changed his mind.

‘There are rabbit traps set near your boundary fence,’ she told him, fingering the cartridge as security. ‘Some of the local kids must have set their traps on Frank’s land while he’s in hospital. They know he’d never let them, otherwise. The traps are set in a pattern and one trap seems to be missing-and the place where it should be is marked with blood and fur. Not brown rabbit fur. It’s the black and white fur of a collie.’

‘Collie?’

‘Harry-Frank’s dog-is a Border collie. A good one.’

He was certainly a lovely dog, Jessie knew, and if anything happened to Harry Frank Reid would break his heart.

‘You haven’t said why you believe he’s here.’ The booted toe was tapping again on the leaf-strewn ground. Patience, it seemed, was not one of Niall Mountmarche’s strong points.

‘There’s a trail of drag marks and blood leading through your fence. At a guess, the dog still has the trap on his foot. If he’s too injured to drag himself home then he won’t have gone far.’

‘If he’s been missing a week then he’ll be dead.’

‘No.’ Jessie shook her head. ‘I heard him,’ she said flatly. ‘He’s somewhere here.’

The man’s eyes narrowed. ‘Nearby?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, what are we wasting time for, Jessica Harvey?’ the man demanded harshly. ‘Let’s find him.’ ‘You mean…You mean you’ll help?’ ‘Why on earth wouldn’t I?’ Why not, indeed?