She stared at the villa, then at the pulsing dot on the tracker—unmoving, locked in place. Like proof. Like leverage. She pulled out her phone. “We call,” she said. “We tell them a dog was stolen from my clinic while he was sedated, and we followed the signal here. We give them this address and we don’t lose sight of that driveway.”
Eleanor’s eyes stayed on the house. “And if they load him back into the van before anyone gets here?” Sarah’s jaw tightened. “Then we keep eyes on them and update the police in real time. That’s how we make sure they don’t disappear.” Eleanor swallowed, the fear turning into something sharper. “That means we sit here and watch them take him.”