I sat two rows behind and to the side of Mrs. Baxter. I didn't want her to see me yet. I didn't know if she saw me leave the publishing house behind her or not.
I was just going to follow her to the bus station. I was just going to ask her a few questions before she left, and then go home. Then I noticed that someone else was following her, and he didn't look very nice or very friendly. He was only of an average size, but his ramrod straight back, and set jaw made him look threatening.
My dad was a cop who came from a family of cops. All three of us kids were taught to scream and fight back in case of any attempted abductions. I have earned the highest level of honours in two martial arts disciplines. I could defend myself, and now I felt like I should defend Mrs. Baxter too.
I was an assistant editor at the publishing house where I worked, and I was there when Mrs. Baxter tried to sell her story. The two senior editors didn't believe her, but I did. I was a good judge of character, and I instinctively believed every word she said.
I didn't know how many publishers turned her down in her own country of Canada. It must have been a fair number though, or she wouldn't have come this far south in the United States to plead her case.
That goon that was following her hadn't taken his eyes off her since she sat down. I don't know why, but I think she might be in danger. I can't let him get near her. I'm convinced that he's just waiting for a chance to hurt her.
When she went to the wicket to buy her ticket to Canada, he waited a few minutes and bought one too. I went to another wicket and bought a ticket for Ottawa as well.
When the driver announced that the bus for Ottawa was boarding, the goon that had been following Mrs. Baxter got on first. I waited to board after her. As I walked down the aisle, I saw him at the very back, watching everyone get on the bus. I walked to Mrs. Baxter's seat, and leaned over to whisper to her.
"Don't be alarmed Mrs.Baxter, but you're being followed."
She moved over, motions for me to sit beside her, and turned to face me head on. "I know that, Ms. Gifford. I'm being followed by you."
My jaw dropped in surprise. I was certain that I had been discreet. "Well technically that's true, but there's someone else following you. It's a man."
"Oh that's just the FBI.' She shrugged calmly.