”“When you flew back. For Poppy.”“Yeah.” I kept tapping, “Ft. Payne is... 46 miles from Stevenson ... under an hour.”Vanessa was kneadin... the tension in my shoulders more firmly. Adam was on semi-alert — he could sense the stress in our voices.I read, “Parking lot behind a bar called Buddy’s.” I closed my eyes, “I have to fly down there.”“Of course.”The hardest thing for Adam — it went against his training, his instinct, his Cane Corso heredity — was leaving me alone. Like when I flew away on a. We woke up Allie, stuffed all our belongings including the memorytransfer device into the two suit cases and then had Jim help me todress James in one of the blue jumpsuits. With the work boots, a pairof sunglasses and a baseball cap, he looked like a napping maintenanceworker. Jim carried his unconscious body out to the cart and thenreturned for the suitcases. As Jim and I pulled on the jumpsuits over top of our street clothes, Ispoke to Allie. "We do not trust you, my dear. Not yet. . More

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