CHAPTER 3
The elevator doors swung open and Wyatt hurried Yeti through. “You can do it, buddy. Hang on.”
They hustled across the marble-floored lobby, heading for huge glass front doors when Wyatt spotted a handful of reporters hanging outside. Well, that didn’t take long, he thought, frowning. Without missing a stride, he veered left and took the small side door that led to the valet-parking.
Early spring sunshine stung Wyatt’s eyes as they stepped outside. Yeti lurched to the right, attention trained on a patch of grass near the sidewalk, but Wyatt tugged him toward the cars.
“Bear with me, bud,” he told him, weaving past luxury SUV after luxury SUV until he found the one he wanted: Dawson’s.
“Have at it,” Wyatt told Yeti, pointing to one of the Hummer’s enormous tires. The big dog
