He spied a row of cages along the shack’s far side, crammed with stolen goods. Raccoons pawed through the items, selecting shiny trophies. Then, isolated near the corner, he spotted a smaller cage. Even in dim light, he recognized his puppy’s trembling form trapped behind rusted bars. His gut twisted.
Joy that Luna was alive clashed with terror at her captivity. Rage sparked deep in Marcus’s chest. He had to free her. Three criminals sorted piles of watches, wallets, and cameras. Meanwhile, the raccoons scurried in a well-rehearsed routine, each movement practiced, each success rewarded.