Terry sat next to Alicia's chair by the fire, enjoying the feeling of the woman's fingers running through the fur on her head. She let out a contented sigh and tilted her head to guide the hand toward an itchy spot behind her left ear. A spell of peace and contentment seemed to rest on them both.

Crash!

Until a splintering sound from behind the house shattered the calm atmosphere like a shotgun blast through a glass plate.

"What in the world?" cried Alicia as she rose to her feet. Grabbing a poker from the rack by the fireplace, she dashed to the back door and flung it wide with a bang.

A sight of sheer madness greeted them. The cross that marking Yukon's grave, a memorial which had survived the harshest weather nature could throw at it for nearly three years, had been ripped from its moorings and was now in the mouth of a furious dog, who appeared to be intent on tearing it to pieces. With a vicious snap of his neck, the dog flung the cross sideways and tore it in two.

"No! Stop! Get out of here!" screamed Alicia, running at the dog and waving the poker, a very foolhardy thing to do. Fortunately for her, the dog dropped the cross and ran off into the night with a parting snarl.

Alicia dropped the weapon and fell to her knees in the snow, staring in disbelieving grief at the splintered remains. After a moment, tears began to well in her eyes. "How could this happen? Why would…" But the rest of her sentence was lost in sobbing.

Terry stared in the direction of the vandal's departure, as shocked and devastated as her owner. "Why, Pete?" she whispered.

If Pete had heard his mother's question, he wouldn't have known how to answer. He felt no better; in fact, he was angrier than before. Not so much at himself for what he'd done, but angry at the world in general. Angry at Rex for the restraining order, at Toby for not being a better teacher, and at his own father for not being here to teach him himself. He hated everyone, and he was convinced that everyone hated him.

It was only when he passed close to Trixie's house that he remembered the situation he was in. As if to emphasize, Trixie was there talking to another female dog―her cousin, if he remembered right―and he ducked out of sight. Pete would never be able to say for certain what thoughts were in the wild mix swirling through his mind as he listened.

"He is such a jerk," Trixie was saying. "But then I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Every guy I date is like that."

"Come on, Trix," urged her companion. "You'll find the right one eventually."

"No, I won't," retorted Trixie. "I'm through with guys, through with everything. No matter what I do, I just feel like everyone I meet wants to use me somehow."

In a flash, Pete's anger evaporated and gave way to horrible realization. It hadn't even occurred to him before, but now that it had, it made his stomach turn. Had he been dating all this time just to keep himself busy, or was he actually looking for an excuse to get busy? What have I been doing? Instantly, Pete felt overwhelming regret for feeling sore at every girl who'd ever dated and later dumped him.

Trixie's cousin shook her head. "You're talking crazy, girl. Listen, go home and get a good night's sleep. Think it over."

Trixie sighed. "Okay." She turned and left. Pete followed at a distance, so many things shooting through his mind that he wasn't sure of up from down. Finally, he stopped where he was and watched her disappear.

Only then did it dawn on him that Trixie wasn't heading for home. Oh, man, he thought. He started after her, then realized he would need some help. Instantly, his eyes shot to the only place he had any hope of getting it from.

Toby sighed as the flames crackled in the hearth, warming the fur of his back. But he wasn't relaxed. His body may have been at peace, but his mind certainly was not. What could he do? He'd tried everything, and all he'd unearthed was failure. Granted, Trixie would be free of Pete's advances, but was this the cost? Simply put, he'd failed. Failed a dog who, for the first time in his life, he'd actually felt a connection to. A brother. His brother.

A banging sound snapped him out of his thoughts as the pet door flew open with such momentum that it slammed against the door itself. Pete came stumbling in, panting furiously. "Toby!" he barked.

Toby groaned. "What now?"

"Bro, I need your help."

Toby looked at him incredulously. "What's this 'bro' business?" he asked. "And since when do you―"

"Look, I'll do whatever you want, but you've got to help me. Trixie's run away, and I'm pretty sure I know where she's going. I think she might―"

Toby cut him off. "Wherever she's going, we can't follow her. Dad said―"

"I know what Dad said!" snapped Pete, not even realizing what had just left his mouth. "But this is important and there's no time! I'm going after her before it's too late, and I need you to get your old man and any of his officers you can, and tell them to follow me."

Toby stared at Pete as if he'd sprouted antlers. "Pete, this is crazy. You're going to violate a direct order the canine chief of police and you want me to go and tell him where to find you?"

"Toby, I know where Trixie went. And if she's there for the reason I think she is, we don't have much time. Now are you going to help me or not?"

Toby's mind flashed back to Luna's words. What would you do if they could see and hear you right now? He shook his head. "I don't want my puppies to have a criminal for a father," he excused.

Pete was almost at the end of his wits, but he knew he had one last card to play. "How about a coward?" he challenged.

Toby's features hardened. The gauntlet had been cast. He looked Pete in the eye and said, "Tell me where you'll be."

"He's really gone too far this time," Rex growled.

"Rex, I'm sure there's a reason," pleaded Terry. "There's got to be something we can do to help him. I know you're a police dog, and I said on the day we agreed to be mates that I would respect your duty, but doesn't family mean anything to you?"

Rex hung his head. "Sweetheart, I want to help Pete more than anything, but you know my duty. I'll go easy on him if I can, but this kind of behavior cannot go unpunished. Trespassing, defacing a grave marker, and now―"

The pet flap flew open and Toby tumbled in, going so fast he could barely stay on his paws. "Dad!" he yelled.

"Toby!" cried his parents in unison.

"What are you doing here?" Terry asked.

Toby shook the snow from his fur. "Dad, it's Pete. He went after Trixie, and he sent me to tell you―"

"He what?!" exclaimed Rex. "But I told him not to―"

"Dad," Toby blurted, cutting off his father for the first time in his life, "I told him too, but it's urgent. He said to get any officers you can round up and come after him."

Rex stared at Toby in a daze and turned to Terry. "Someday, these boys are going to be the end of me," he muttered. He returned his gaze to Toby. "Alright, show me where he went."