I shoved the phone into my pocket after leaving Trevor a voice mail. The bulldog followed me across the wet grass as my tennis shoes squished with each step. The bottom of my pant leg quickly became soaked with moisture from the recent rainfall, and the wind pushed against me, bringing in the scent of Lake Michigan. I huddled into my sweatshirt and shivered slightly. The sidewalk was several paces away, and once we were there, it would be a short walk to the bulldog's home. I tugged on his leash, encouraging him to step a little faster. Maybe I'd get him home sooner and have time to run home to change before my next appointment. I hated walking dogs in wet clothes. Yuck! A shiver ran through me. Brrr…the wind cut right through me when I was wet.
I rounded the corner to reach the sidewalk when, I heard a soft clicking coming from the bushes. I stopped in my tracks as the bulldog bumped into the back of my calves. He pricked his ears up toward the bushes and let out a low growl.
"What's in there boy?" I asked.
I took a step closer, and a man jumped out of the bushes with a large camera slung around his neck. The shutter clicked a few more times before he sprinted down the sidewalk ahead of me and dodge around the corner.
"Oh no," I muttered, "this is not good." We continued to the bulldog's home as I tried to control the shaking again. Only this time it was not from the cold. I knew I should've not gone to that gala, but his blue eyes convinced me and now it was going to blow everything up.
I dropped off the bulldog and walked the couple blocks to my apartment building. I glanced around but couldn't find anyone loitering or looking suspicious. I didn't live in a neighborhood that people liked to hang around in. I closed the door firmly behind me before pulling out my phone. Taking a deep breath, I punched in the numbers for the only person I had memorized but didn't want to call.
He answered on the first ring.
"Have you been found already?" His low voice growled instead of a greeting. "Didn't we go over the rules well enough."
"Yes, but…" Panic wound it's way through me as he interrupted me.
"Doc, you are a very bright woman, but these men that want you dead aren't going to stop until they are behind bars. And even then it may not stop." He sighed on the line. "What did you do?"
"I went to a gala last night." I hiccupped a sob. "I didn't think there would be reporters there, and I made the entertainment section this morning."
"Doc." He sounded exasperated.
"I know but the ones back home were never covered by reporters, especially no name guests."
I could hear him tapping the end of his pencil on his desk as he thought, a nervous habit he'd developed as he tried to think.
"Who were you with?" The tapping stopped and his chair squeaked.
"Um, Trevor Donne."
An expletive came through the line before he started to laugh. "You always seem to find the most interesting people." He laughed some more, but I wasn't sure it was in a good or bad sort of way. "Let's meet in an hour with Mr. Donne at that little coffee shop on your block."
"Okay," I said hesitantly. The Latte Service wasn't the type of place I'd picture Trevor in, and I wasn't sure how the deputy knew him.
"And, Doc, stay low until then." The phone went quiet in my ear.