Before she could react, the back door swung open. Josh walked out, sweat-soaked and barefoot, yelling into his phone. “Yeah, I got a premium Doberman here. Two years old, trained. Two grand and he’s yours. Purebred. No papers, but trust me, he’s clean.” Gabby’s stomach turned to ice.
He was going to sell him. Lie about his lineage, erase his identity, pocket the cash. Gabby backed away horrified, her shoes nearly slipping on loose gravel. She kept low until she rounded the block, then sprinted to her car, chest heaving, fingers shaking as she grabbed her phone.