Murder at Granite Falls by Roxanne Rustand

up a rueful grin at the sharp edge in her voice. “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.”
    “I’ll start leaving my dog here at night, then.”
    She’d thought about asking him to do just that, until she’d seen Murphy’s absolute devotion to Logan. The dog seemed to doze the days away, but had a special connection where Logan was concerned. The poor animal whined and paced the shore whenever Logan left on float trips, and only settled down to doze in the shade when he saw his master return.

    “I think Murphy would cry all night if you did that.”
    “Not if he was in your apartment.”
    “Well…”
    “What, you don’t like my dog?”
    “He’s a great dog. But—”
    “Let’s try it tonight. Penny and I could even start taking turns at staying out here, too—there’s a sofa in the office downstairs. Or one of us could even bring a sleeping bag and stay out in the boathouse for a while.”
    “No, though I do appreciate the offer.”
    “Look at it this way—we won’t get any sleep wondering about what’s going on out here.” A smile kicked up one corner of his mouth. “So we might as well.”
    She threw up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay—the dog. You and your sister don’t need to babysit me out here.”
    “But you have our phone numbers, right?”
    “Still do.” She patted the cell phone holder on her belt. “My brother has them also—I hope that’s okay. I figured it might be a good backup in case he really needs to contact me. My cell provider doesn’t have the best coverage up here.”
    “That’s fine. And you have us on speed dial, right?”
    She laughed at that. “I will. Promise.”
    He rested a warm, strong hand on her shoulder, locking his gaze on hers. The intense expression of concern in his eyes nearly stole her breath away. “I… We’re just worried about you, Carrie. So don’t take any chances.”
     
    Long after their talk, Logan was still out at the boathouse, lights blazing through the windows and open doorway. Now and then Carrie could hear the pounding of a hammer and the whine of a table saw. By midnight, the sounds ceased and the lights in the boathouse were out, but Logan’s truck was still parked by the door so he must have settled in for the night out there.

    She’d returned to the windows a dozen times or more during the evening, warmed by Logan’s presence. Knowing that he was lingering out of concern for her, even though he’d had a long, hard day…and even when he’d left his dog in her care, which should have been enough.
    Billy, for all his cowboy charm and courtly manners when they’d been dating, hadn’t been half as concerned when she’d had to drive to work on dangerous winter roads, or had been alone during the long months he was gone following one rodeo circuit or another.
    Murphy started whining at two in the morning.
    She must have fallen asleep, because now she jerked up, pillows falling from the sofa, feeling bleary and disoriented. Murphy was at one of the windows, his nose pushed through the side of the blinds and his paws on the windowsill, the hair raised along his backbone and his tail rigid.
    She stumbled over to him, a hand at her throat. “What’s up, buddy?”
    Murphy growled.
    Logan’s truck was still out there. Nothing stirred.
    A beam of light bobbed inside the boathouse, then Logan appeared at the door with a flashlight. The light arced across the parking lot, then the pine-walled perimeter of the clearing as he strode into the darkness. She held her breath, realizing the danger he could be in if someone was out there lying in wait.
    She’d been determined—no, stubborn and selfish—about staying out here, and thinking only of herself. What if he was hurt…or worse?
    And there wasn’t just the possibility of a human intruder. There were grizzlies out there—bears that wouldn’t hesitate to attack if a human inadvertently came up on them in the dark. Moose were even more unpredictable and just as