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stood only about twenty five yards away; the safety of the red and white canopy over the back door beckoned.
    Uneasiness climbed her vertebrae as she forced her feet in motion and she covered the first few yards, almost ready to crown herself insane. The sedan had parked a respectable distance away and no one burst from inside with guns-a-blazing. Still, her gut screamed trouble and Casey had practically engraved the words on her brain: Always follow your gut.
    Annessa groaned and picked up her pace, relieved when she passed a large, disgusting trash dumpster behind the florist, buzzing with flies and a few very large bumblebees. She stole a quick glance over her shoulder while her feet carried her forward. I’m still alone .
    Lost in the eager desire to reach the bakery, she realized too late that all kinds of objects littered the alley – she had only half a second to throw out her hands before she hit the ground, her forehead bouncing off the dirt and gravel. Stunned but still very aware of her goal, she took a cursory look at the brick under her left foot before she scrambled to stand and forced her feet to move. A loud buzz tickled her left ear just before she felt pain in her left biceps. Damn bee .
    Still in motion, she glanced at her arm, intent on yanking a stinger free. Instead, she discovered the flesh had been torn and blood rushed toward her fingers.
    Okay, so the insect missed her – the brick had obviously been larger than she thought.
    She pressed her free hand against the oozing wound and closed the distance to Sweet Treats in a full sprint. Screw control.
    Without a second look over her shoulder, she jammed the key into the lock, entered through the back door, and programmed the alarm to screech if anyone attempted to enter the store.
    No way in hell would she let them find her here.
    Annessa stepped to the sink, grabbed a handful of paper towels from a nearby dispenser, wiped the gash in her arm, and then frowned as blood continued to ooze. If possible, her heart began to beat even harder and threatened to exit her chest. No matter how hard she tried, it would be impossible to keep this a secret. She’d have to leave the bakery.
    With lead feet, she went to the front of the store and gazed out the front windows. Tourists and locals alike walked the sidewalk. Familiar cars ambled by. No sight of the brown sedan.
    She glanced back at her arm and groaned at the nice baby pink color of the paper towels. With no other choice, she disarmed the protective siren, opened the door, and then re-set the silent watch dog. She left the bakery and headed across the street to the one person she hoped to hell could keep a secret.
     
    Annessa opened the door of Verity’s clinic, relieved when she found the waiting room empty.
    “Verity?”
    She closed the door and tried to ignore the trail of blood making its way from beneath the paper towels and toward her elbow. Unfortunately, the steady stream of fluid forced her to pull a handful of tissues from a box on the reception counter and smash them against the wound while she hoped she could convince Verity it was just a scratch.
    She cursed under her breath as blood seeped through the tissues. This wouldn’t be easy, especially when she was sure someone held a hot iron against her arm. She knew the other woman all too well. Verity was a bloodhound – if she even suspected foul play, she’d call for back-up. Or worse, take matters into her own hands.
    “Looks painful.”
    Annessa shrieked and spun around so quickly she lost her balance and stumbled against the counter, scraping her injured arm in the process.
    “Oh, ow!”
    “Annessa, stand still.” Verity’s calm voice of reason soothed her panic as the other woman tugged the tissues from the wound. “What happened?”
    “I fell in the alley.”
    “Up.” Verity lifted Annessa’s hand over her head. “Less blood,” she explained while she led the way to an exam room. “Sit.”
    Annessa barely had time to