She hadn’t worn her iPod today. She wanted to hear the birdsong and appreciate the flowers rather than get lost in the music. She’d run half a mile, turned, run a block and took another corner, halfway to home. She was just three blocks from the next turn when she saw her friend Rosemary’s mother-in-law, Juliet Szykely walking out of the house near the end of the block with a man in navy blue hospital scrubs. I hope she’s not sick. She was only a block away from Rosemary’s home when Juliet stopped at the junction of the private sidewalk and the public one. She flapped her hands at her escort. He waved his arms around, talking to her. She shook her head back and forth. The man grabbed her elbow and pulled. Juliet shrieked. Layla broke into a sprint. “Hey, hey you! What are you doing?” He looked up at Layla and gave one last tug on Juliet before running to a white cargo van parked at the curb. Layla pulled out the paper and pencil she always brought along on her jogs and wrote down the name on the logo on the door of the van: Franklin Medical Transport.
