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thing for HotRescues that I got a moment of fame from this? Not likely. If I’d known I’d been filmed, I’d have chattered about being affiliated with this epitome of a private shelter and about the joys of adopting a rescued pet.
    “That guy with you—the one in the animal rescue shirt? He’s really a hottie.”
    Ralph? No—he wore a regular animal control officer uniform. It had been Captain Matt Kingston who’d been closest to me as I held the rescued pup. Sure, he was a hottie, but I cringed about my young adult daughter telling me so.
    “I didn’t notice,” I lied. “But I want to see the clip. Please send me the link as soon as you can. And thanks for letting me know. Everything okay?”
    “Everything’s fine, Mom.” Of course she’d have said that even if her grades were iffy and she had a cold. But we were close enough that I believed she’d tell me if there was anything I really needed to know.
    At least I’d succeeded in changing the subject. “Take care, sweetheart. I love you.”
    I had hardly hung up before the phone rang again. This time, outside the doggy area, I actually heard its musical peal.
    It was Kevin, my son. He was a student at Claremont McKenna College, approaching the end of his freshman year. I could guess what he was calling about but decided not to let him know that Tracy had stolen his thunder.
    Sure enough, he’d seen the YouTube clip with me on it, thanks to a tip from his sister.
    Didn’t these kids do anything but surf the Net? I certainly was paying a lot of tuition for them to keep their noses to the grindstone—or at least in their textbooks.
    But they both got good grades, so I couldn’t complain.
    “You rock, Mom,” he told me, sounding gleeful. “I’m showing all my friends how you stick up for animal rights and all that.”
    Despite my momentary irritation, I grinned. I was proud of both my kids, and it felt even better than eating chocolate to think they might be proud of me, too.
    I chatted with Kevin a few more minutes, glad for the opportunity to touch base with him, make sure he was still handling his first time away from home well—even though his college was in Claremont, just east of LA. Unlike with Tracy, I actually saw him on weekends now and then.
    I soon hung up.
    “Hey, Lauren. Come over here.” Nina was back at the table behind the computer. I saw that she had brought up the YouTube clip. She turned on the sound, but only for a few seconds before my BlackBerry rang again.
    The caller ID said Dante DeFrancisco was on the other end. “Hi, Dante.” In case this conversation needed to be kept private, I walked down the hall toward my office.
    “Hi, yourself,” he said. “I’ve got you on my speaker phone. Kendra’s here, too.”
    Kendra Ballantyne was Dante’s lady friend, a lawyer who’d helped with the Efram situation when he’d threatened to sue us. She was also a pet-sitter and pet lover, an ideal combination to help work out the solution with Efram.
    Did Dante already know what I intended to tell him about Efram and his relationship to the puppy mill? The guy did seem to know just about everything. Scary, sometimes.
    I closed the door, then sat on the chair behind my desk, braced for whatever. “Hi, Kendra.”
    “Hi, Lauren,” Kendra replied. “The whole puppy mill thing—I heard about it from a few sources and told Dante. That clip on YouTube—it’s going viral.”
    My mind sprinted with possible results. I was identified, at least, so I still might be able to use it for publicizing HotRescues and how we save endangered pets. It also showed the concern and dedication of the LA Animal Services folks, particularly special teams like SmART, as well as Los Angeles police on the ACTF. And, it might emphasize the plight of dogs bred in puppy mills.
    On the whole, I liked the possibilities. But what if Dante didn’t? Even though I was the HotRescues director of administration, he was the personification of the golden rule: he