Chapter Twenty-Eight Savannah
| Twenty-Eight |
Savannah
“Want to go for a walk?” Savannah called out to Finn.
His ears perked up and he bolted up from the floor and ran to the door, his tail going a mile a minute.
Savannah smiled. From the moment she met the adorable canine, she’d been in love.
He had the sweetest face—big brown eyes, black fur in circles around his eyes mixed in with the white.
His face reminded her a little of a Lab.
He was beautiful and sweet, and she was happy for the company since it appeared that Bennett would be spending his days locked away in his office.
She slipped a coat on, then grabbed his leash and secured it to his collar, and they went outside.
She opened the back door of the Range Rover and he jumped in.
She leaned down and gave him a peck on the head before shutting the door.
“You’re such a good boy.”
Savannah had never driven the car before, and she was nervous.
It was larger than she was used to, and it took her a few minutes to figure out where everything was.
Taking a deep breath, she started the car and backed out of the garage, then drove down the driveway.
The roads were so winding here, and almost completely shadowed by trees.
She missed the city! Being in the middle of nowhere made her nervous, but after a few miles, she began to relax.
She saw the sign for the entrance to Beaver Dam Park and turned.
Luckily there were plenty of parking spaces and she didn’t have to try to squeeze the Range Rover between any cars.
The last thing she wanted to do was bring it home with a scratch.
Although, to be fair, Bennett wasn’t one of those men who treated their cars like their girlfriends—well, except for the Aston Martin, but she would never drive that one.
There was still so much she had to learn about her new husband, and she didn’t want to put another foot wrong.
There were two fenced-in areas, and she saw that one was for dogs under thirty pounds and the other for over thirty.
She walked toward the fenced area for large dogs.
There was a man throwing a ball to an off-leash golden retriever.
He looked friendly enough, but she’d forgotten to ask Bennett if Finn got along with other dogs, so she walked him up the trail that led away from it.
He stayed by her side and didn’t pull her at all, fortunately, since he was so big.
“What a good walker you are,” she said, petting him as they continued to walk.
It was colder than she realized this morning and when the sun went behind a cloud, she shivered.
She zipped up her jacket and picked up the pace.
She worried Finn might be cold. She’d ask Bennett if he had a doggie coat for him.
They walked for about fifteen minutes, stopping occasionally as Finn smelled something.
Her thoughts wandered as they continued, and she decided that she would buckle down and get back to work on her novel tomorrow.
She had to accept the fact that Bennett was going to be tied up most days writing, and she couldn’t depend on him to entertain her.
Later this afternoon she’d take her laptop to the local coffee shop and work.
She heard what sounded like a twig or branch snap and turned around to look.
Nothing. Suddenly, Savannah had the strangest feeling that she was being followed.
She couldn’t explain it, but she sensed someone watching her.
She turned quickly again, then shook her head.
“You’re being paranoid,” she said to herself.
“Let’s turn around,” she said to the dog, and they began walking back out of the woods.
Maybe she should stick to the open fenced area in the future.
If anyone had been after her, the woods would be the perfect spot to kill her, and no one would know.
She was letting her imagination run wild again.
Save it for your novel, she thought. They headed back to the car.
As they got closer, she noticed something on the windshield.
Frowning, she opened the back door and let Finn in, then walked around to see what it was.
A sealed envelope. Nothing written on the outside.
Thoughts of poison-laced paper went through her mind, but she shook her head again.
She was going off the deep end. It was probably some sort of ad.
She opened the envelope and saw a folded piece of looseleaf paper.
She looked around to see if anyone was watching her but didn’t notice anyone suspicious.
She got in the car and locked the door, then unfolded the paper.
She gasped. The message read: You’re in grave danger.
Bennett Bryson isn’t who you think he is.