It took a concentrated effort to keep her hands from shaking as she followed him down to the parking lot. In the six months she"d been working at the shelter, this had never happened. Usually Lori or Ann was available, the senior social workers experienced in this sort of thing—experts at scooping up the victims and getting them to safety.
Except Lori was laid up with a broken leg, and Ann had been the one on the phone, asking for help.
"Got the flu, stomach stuff. I can"t leave the bathroom. Everyone else either isn"t answering their phone or are too far out of town—they can"t make it in time." She wheezed, unable to catch her breath. "Cathy"s already at the shelter, waiting to take her in. But I can"t go, and we can"t give Paige the address..."
"I"ll take care of it." The words were o
