"Would you like me to take a message? I can have my husband drop it off in the morning before he goes to class."
"No, no, that's all right. I'll just catch Mr. Jenkins when he comes into class."
Like that was going to happen anytime soon.
I felt a little bad about that, but not bad enough to let the professor know I was home. I'd prefer if he didn't even know where I lived. As one of my professors, he was given access to my academic file, which included my contact information.
I assumed that was how he found me.
I needed to do something about that, like rent a PO box or something. I didn't like the idea of anyone with access to the administration building having access to me. Granted, I'd never had to worry about it before now, but I could see that it was a problem.
I watched as Professor Bradley walked away at a fast clip before climbing into a dark car parked at the end of the block. Melissa walked to her house and went inside, not even knowing she'd come so close to someone involved in a murder. She'd probably freak if she knew.
I know I was.
I started a file on my cloud, compiling everything that had happened so far. I knew the guys would want to see it when they got here. It also gave me something to do besides pace the bunker. At this rate, I wasn't going to have a fingernail left.
After that was done, I started a search on anything I could find on Professor Bradley and a man named Atkins. I made sure I looked into police files for Atkins. I suspected this wasn't the first time he'd ordered someone killed.
I stiffened when my computer dinged again, letting me know someone was here, but the ding was different this time. I swallowed tightly as I switched to my security monitors.
And that would be why the ding was different.
Someone was in my house.
I recognized the muscle-bound man almost immediately. It was hard to forget someone who had pulled the trigger that killed someone else. I doubted I would ever forget his face.
He wasn't alone.
I counted three men in my house. The other two men were the same men who'd been going into the computer science building while I had been trying to go out, forcing me to shift and hide in the planter.
I winced when one of the guys jerked a drawer out of my desk and scattered the contents all over the floor. They had no business in there, or in my house, and I could feel my anger at them growing.
I wanted them gone. I wanted them to leave me alone and never come back.
I wanted to scratch their eyes out.
They weren't searching my house. They were destroying it. It wasn't like I was hiding in my china cabinet. There was no reason for them to grab my good china and toss them on the floor, not unless they were trying to leave me a message.
My eyes narrowed before I changed monitor views and checked up and down the street, both in front of my house and behind it. I spotted the same black car from before. Only this time, it was parked in the alley behind my backyard.
"You want to play?" I asked as I turned the monitor back to my house. "Let's play."
I got up and walked over to a wall of metal drawers that went from the ceiling down to the floor. I pulled one open and rooted around until I found what I was looking for. Grabbing the small flat device, I took it over to my workbench.
It took me just a couple of seconds to confirm that it was in good working order and write down the serial number I'd placed on it—I was kind of anal about keeping track of my inventions—and then I headed for my secondary escape route out of the bunker.
Luckily, the tracking device was small. After I shifted, I was able to easily carry it in my mouth as I walked through the tunnel that would lead me to my backyard.
When I reached the grass, I paused to listen and sniff the air. There was something there, but I couldn't quite place it. Whatever it was, I wanted to smell more of it. It smelled delicious. A combination of wild summer heat and desert spices.
It was yummy.
I stayed close to the shadows as I moved along the fence. I jumped quickly over the gate, landing in the alley. The black car was sitting right there in front of me. I casually walked around it, sniffing every few feet to make sure I couldn't smell anyone inside.
I climbed under the edge of the back of the car then shifted, quickly fit the tracking device into place where it wouldn't be seen. Idiots tended to place it in the fender well. I put mine up inside the car, under the trunk.
Once I was done, I shifted back to my ocelot form and walked out from under the car. As most things in my life, my plan to safely escape back to my bunker went to hell. I had just barely reached the gate when it swung open, slamming right into my head.
