"Yes? What do you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him to take his remote controls and-"

I held the phone away from my ear and frowned at the display that read "My mum."

The h.e.l.l it was!

She hung up.

I stepped out on the porch and hurried to the squad car. Keelie stepped away from her bodyguard and pulled the blanket closer around her.

"That was your mom who picked me up?"

I nodded. "That's her."

"She's nice. Cool. Calm. Collected. Compa.s.sionate."

"She's good in emergencies," I acknowledged.

"My mom is bossy, always telling me what to do and what not to do."

"I guess that's a mother's deal."

"Your mom got me to do what she wanted, but she didn't yell or call me reckless or stupid or cry to get her way."

"I suppose every mother has a different method of...parenting their offspring," I said.

"Your mom had a message for your father," Keelie said.

I winced. "I think she already relayed that," I said.

"Oh. So she told him she was going on a road trip and would be back in a few days? That's good."

I blinked. Road trip? Not good. Not good at all.

"Tressa?" Keelie leaned in closer and grabbed my arm. "Something awful happened tonight."

I patted her hand. "I know. You were upset. You ran. You drank. You nearly got ran over by a car. I'd say that qualifies as pretty awful."

She shook her head.

"That's not the awful part."

Her fingers dug into my arm.

"It's not? What is the awful part?"

"The car that nearly ran me down?"

"Yes?" I held my breath.

"It was Jax's car."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

"Uh, Scotty. Any time now."

I gazed toward the ceiling of my home and waited for the transporter beam to lock on me and beam me to the bridge of the Enterprise where I could drool over Kirk and Spock and have some girl time with Uhura, where we would discuss the faults and foibles of the male species.

I tapped a foot. "I'm waiting."

"Who you waitin' for? Everybody and his brother are here already. Your living room looks like one of them mosh pits."

My gammy was right. This house hadn't seen so much foot traffic since the year Gram gave out dollar bills to trick-or-treaters. Okay. I'll cop to it. The sheet-covered ghostie? Me. And the Lone Ranger. Zorro. A kerchiefed bandit. And, my personal favorite, John Wayne. Hey, doesn't everyone have a Duke Wayne mask lying around?

"Did you catch a load of all them poprocksies out on your front lawn? Cameras everywhere. Click. Click. Click. Nearly blinded me when I walked through 'em."

"I saw them."

I'd also observed my gammy's stroll across the yard to the house. She'd stopped and posed for the cameras more times than Oscar nominees on the red carpet before the awards ceremony.

"That Keelie girl must be hot stuff," she said, and pulled her gla.s.ses out and put them on to get a better look. "I don't see it. What's the big deal? All that red hair? That don't make her Lucille Ball. Now Lucy? There was a star."

I nodded. She'd get no argument from me. I loved Lucy. And she'd made a very nice living from calamities and chaos, thank you very much.

Meanwhile, my own life was definitely no sit-com.

All the chaos. None of the laughs.

Once I'd convinced Keelie to tell Manny that it was Jax's car that sent her into the roadside ditch, he'd whisked her into the house.

My house.

Somehow the word got out that the reality star was being treated for possible injuries, and the media converged.

Not to mention the entourage.

In addition to EMTs, my house hosted Keelie's cameramen, Keelie's just-released-from-the-hospital manager, Vinny, her co-stars, Langley and Tiara, Manny, Knox County acting sheriff, Doug Samuels, Gram, Joe, my dad, my sister, my, er, date, and two over-stimulated yellow labs that weren't the only ones that were gonna have a hard time settling down for the night.

"What do you think, Manny?" Keelie was saying. "Should I throw in the towel? Go home?"

I chewed my lip, wondering if it was too late for me to place a bet on a certain cowgirl Trekkie biker. Or would that be considered insider betting?

Manny shrugged. "Keelie's call."

"No! It isn't just Keelie's call!" Vinny Vincent's bl.u.s.ter almost made up for his lack of stature. "There are contracts. Sponsors. You quit, you're in breach."

"But surely if her safety is at issue, those corporate sponsors wouldn't expect her to continue," Langley protested.

Vinny shot Langley a dark look.

"You obviously don't know much about the corporate world, junior. She quits and bye-bye future sponsors and advertising. No one's gonna take a chance on a quitter."

Keelie flinched. "I'm not a quitter, Vinny."

"Of course you aren't, kid. That's what I'm trying to tell these meatheads." He took a seat on the couch beside Keelie and nudged Tiara to the side. "Listen. I know it hurts to think someone you cared about has turned on you. I always did warn you about Jax Whitver, didn't I? What'd I always say? It's like the country mouse and the city mouse. Taking a walk in the countryside can be exciting and novel for a time, but eventually you long for the busy streets and sophistication of the big city. Trust me, kid." Vinny patted her knee. "You're better off with Jax Whitver out of your life."

"But he's still out there somewhere!" Tiara pointed out, apparently either having made up with her BFF, or, I supposed, also having sticky contractual issues.

"Yeah. What about that, officer?" Vinny got to his feet. "What are you doing to find Jax Whitver?"

"We've broadcast his plate information and have a BOLO out for him. The young lady here says she isn't sure she wants to file charges."

"What?" Vinny turned back to Keelie. "What the h.e.l.l are you thinking? Of course, you're going to file charges! That lunatic tried to run you down!"

She shook her head. "It was getting dark. Maybe he didn't see me."

"Keep telling yourself that, Toots," Vinny said, and shook his head. "I want that guy picked up."

"We've got officers looking for him, Mr. Vincent," my second least favorite deputy said. "Sooner or later, he'll surface. It's not as if he isn't easily recognizable."

"What about you, DeMarco? What are you doing to earn your pay? You've let this thing with Whitver get way out of control."

I saw a muscle pop in Manny's jaw and took a step back. No way did I want to be anywhere near the fallout.

"Manny's got a handle on things."

"You could've fooled me," Vinny grumbled, but seeing the look in Manny's eyes, backed off.

"Keelie," Langley took the seat Vinny vacated. "Girlfriend, I have a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling. With everything that has been going on, I think it might be best if you pulled up the stakes on this road show."

"Need I remind you, Mr. Carlisle the Third, that you are also under contract? And while your partic.i.p.ation is by no means essential to the success of the show, breaking contractual agreements is frowned upon in show business," Vinny pointed out.

"All you care about, Vinny, is the business. What about Keelie?" Tiara said.

The doorbell rang, and I hurried to the door and opened it, blinded momentarily by the camera lights trained on the house.

A trooper stood on my doorstep. My trooper.

"Patrick. Come in before you become media fodder," I said, and pulled him into the room. "Any news on Jax?"

All discussion ceased. Everyone stared at the trooper.

"We're waiting, Officer," Vinny snapped.

Patrick looked at Manny and Samuels.

"We've located Jax Whitver's vehicle. It was parked behind some outbuildings south of the county park entrance. The right front tire is flat."

I looked at Keelie. She put a shaking hand to her mouth.

"And...Jax?"

Patrick shook his head. "Sorry, Miss Keller. No sign of the vehicle's owner."

"That's it! You should definitely drop out!" Langley said.

"For sure, Keelie!" Tiara urged. "You can't risk going ahead with Jax on the loose. Lang and I will make it work. We'll finish the ride for you."

Keelie looked up. Her eyes did a sweep of the room's occupants, coming to rest on me.

"What would you do?" Keelie asked me.

Vinny turned. "Why the h.e.l.l are you asking Yeoman Rand over there?" he exploded. "She's not in the business! She's just a hillbilly with a phone and a blog!"

Before you could say "stereotyping" Manny had Vinny by the collar doing the tippy-toed dance.

"Country don't mean hillbilly, Vinny. Apologize to the lady," Manny instructed.

I winced. You obviously didn't talk trash about Manny's turf. Or his...Barbie doll. I hazarded a look at Rick, who looked like he'd like to strangle both Vinny and the black knight defending my honor.

"Sorry," Vinny mumbled, and Manny let loose of him, and he almost fell.

"I'm asking Tressa, Vinny, because she doesn't have a dog in this fight," Keelie said, and I almost found myself grinning. Obviously more than a little of the country mouse's southern speak had rubbed off on the big city mouse. "So, Miz Calamity Jayne, what would you do?"

I sighed. "Doesn't that nickname give you a hint?" I asked.

She nodded. "It does."

She reached out and gave Butch and Sundance some puppy love.

"I'm not going to let Jax Whitver, or anyone, control my life-or dictate my choices," she said. "As they say in the biz, the show must go on." She stood up. "We ride."

It was late when everyone finally cleared out. I'd relayed my Mom's message to my dad. That she'd taken the RV on her little getaway put more than a few creases in my dad's already furrowed forehead. Like daughter. Like father.

Taylor promised to keep an eye on him until she left the next morning.

I shut the door behind them and sighed.

"Well, no one can say first dates with you are dull," Rick said, preparing to take his own leave. "This night had it all. Stars. Runaway stars. Cameras. Cops. Hollywood agent p.r.i.c.ks. Bodyguards."