“Mister Finder of Lost Things.” Magnus offered his hand. “Thank you for coming and bringing along your three lovely associates. I’m Magnus.”

“Jeff.” The guy transferred the dog leashes to his other hand and shook what was offered. “What happened to Brad?”

“There was a change of plans. I took over for him. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not. I was just under the impression that we were looking for Brad’s missing partner. I thought he would like to be here in person.”

“Yes, he would. But unfortunately, he was called elsewhere.” Magnus smirked. “Just between you and me, though, I’m a much nicer fellow.”

“I’m sure,” Jeff said. “Different location, too. We were supposed to meet at the club where Brad’s partner had last been seen.” He took a look around the largely deserted industrial park. “Are you sure you don’t want to start there?”

“We received a new tip.” There was no reason to tell Jeff that the missing person had changed as well. As far as the guy was concerned, they were still looking for Brad’s missing partner.

One of the three Golden Retrievers took a fancy to Magnus, pushing his head under his hand and wagging his tail furiously.

“What a cheerful doggie smile you have.” Magnus crouched and scratched the dog behind his ears. “What’s your name, buddy?”

“Ralph,” Jeff said. “This one is Ross, and that one is Reese.” He pointed at the dogs as he said their names.

Magnus patted the other two as well, but they seemed only mildly interested, while Ralph looked like he was ready to go home with him.

“Do you have an article of clothing of the missing person?” Jeff asked.

“Yes, I do.” Magnus pulled out one of the Doomer’s T-shirts from a plastic bag.

After a short sniffing session, the dogs put their noses to the ground and started searching.

Following Jeff, Magnus asked, “Does it take long to train a dog to do that?”

“It does, and not every dog is good at it. I like to work with Golden Retrievers because they are just great dogs, but Rottweilers are good too. But even within the same breed, there are differences in attitude and aptitude.”

The dogs were well trained, not running or pulling on the leashes as Magnus had expected them to. They led him and Jeff behind the building and sniffed at the grass.

“The screen of that window is torn.” Jeff pointed.

“I noticed.”

That must’ve been Grud’s escape route. They’d mistakenly assumed that he’d walked out the front door.

Regrettably, the handyman Onegus had hired to fix the hole in the cage room was long gone, and it would be hell to find another one on a short notice. Maybe they would just leave the screen as it was.

The tear wasn’t as incriminating as the hole. Any random thief or vandal could’ve cut the screen to try to get into the vacant building and check if there was anything worth stealing. But a hole made in a concrete block wall was a different story. The only reason for anyone to make it was if he’d been imprisoned in the cage. Except, the cages were meant for apes and hadn’t been used for that purpose in decades.

With the screen, Wonder might get in trouble for “forgetting” to turn on the alarm, but no one could prosecute her for it. The worst that could happen was her losing the cleaning job that she was not coming back to anyway. In contrast, the hole could’ve opened a whole can of worms.

The dogs kept going, sniffing a path that was anything but direct.

Grud must’ve still been in the building when Liam had parked outside, or maybe even when Brundar and Magnus had gotten there. That was why he hadn’t used the front door and why he’d zigged and zagged from wall to bush to tree and then to another wall.

Either way, he’d been long gone by the time the rest of the Guardians had arrived and started searching for him. Even on foot, by that time he’d probably been halfway up the road leading to the residential area on the hill.

The Guardians were searching both sides of that road, going from one warehouse to another, and from one workshop to the next, but given the numerous potential hiding places in each of those buildings, it was quite a futile search without dogs.

Other than the industrial park they were in, there were four more along the road, two of more or less the same size, and two that were bigger and had mixed-use commercial and industrial facilities. And unlike this park, which seemed to have been vacated for some reason, maybe for repurposing, the others enjoyed full occupancy.

Talk about a needle in a haystack.

Magnus had high hopes for the Finder of Lost Things and his dogs. If Jeff could locate the escaped Doomer, all of them could finally go home.

Home. When had the village become one?

Magnus had thought it would take a long time to adjust to a new place and a different culture, but apparently being surrounded by family both here and in Scotland meant that he now had two homes.

Cool.

“Easy, boys,” Jeff said as the dogs started pulling on the leashes. “Not so fast.”

“What’s got them excited?” Magnus asked.

“We will soon find out.”

The dogs stopped next to another warehouse and started sniffing the grass again.

Maybe Grud had been hiding right there the entire time? If he had, the guy was much smarter than Magnus had given him credit for. Assuming the Doomer would want to distance himself from the facility as fast as he could, no one had thought to search the nearby buildings.

“Should we go inside?” Jeff asked. “Could your friend be in there?”

“Let’s give it a try.” Magnus pulled on the door handle, half expecting it to be locked, but the thing opened into a simple reception room. Even more surprising was finding a living, breathing receptionist, and a pretty one at that.

“Oh, good. Are you here to search for the guy who knocked out the poor gardener?” she asked.

Magnus put his hand on Jeff’s arm to shush him. “Can you tell us what happened? We weren’t given many details.”

“Some thug knocked Jorge out with a blow to the back of his head.” She pointed to hers. “And robbed him. He took his wallet and his phone and stole his truck. I wanted to call an ambulance for him, but he begged me not to.” She leaned over her desk. “I think Jorge is illegal. His wife came and picked him up. I’m so glad he decided to report it. I don’t think the police care if he is an illegal immigrant, right?”

“They don’t,” Jeff said. “Their job is to catch criminals, not to chase after illegals. Did your gardener see the face of the robber?”

She frowned. “He didn’t say. The poor man was too distraught, and frankly so was I. All I could think of was getting Jorge medical help.”

“Jeff,” Magnus said to catch the guy’s attention.

“Yes?”

Magnus looked into his eyes and pushed a small thrall. “You should take the dogs out.”

Luckily, the guy’s brain was easy to manipulate. “Yes, I should take the dogs out.”

When Jeff left, Magnus turned to the receptionist and flashed his most charming smile. “Do you happen to have Jorge’s number? I would like to ask him a few questions.”

She narrowed her eyes. “He is not going to get in trouble, is he? I don’t want him to get deported.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not my jurisdiction, and I couldn't care less. I just want to find his truck for him. Its loss means no income for Jorge and his family. I doubt he has insurance, and even if he does, it will take time until he gets the money to buy a new one. And what about his equipment? He needs that truck and his work tools back right away.”

After that speech, no thrall was necessary.

The girl nodded solemnly. “He gave me his wife’s number to call. I still have it.” She picked up a post-it note but didn’t hand it to Magnus right away. “Let me copy it for you. I want to organize a fundraiser for Jorge. If everyone who works here and our other locations pitches in, we might collect enough to help him replace his tools.”

“That’s a wonderful idea.”

“I’m also adding our number with my extension. I’m Megan, by the way.” She scribbled both numbers. “Call me if you find the truck. It will make me feel much better knowing that Jorge has it back.”

Magnus took the note and tucked it inside his jacket’s inner pocket. “I will.”