"I'll give you some privacy." Bear moved toward the kitchen.

Bryan raised an eyebrow. "When did that become an issue?"

"I'm trying to at least give the appearance of being hospitable," Bear mumbled as he pulled milk out of the refrigerator.

Bryan shot a glance over his shoulder at his host. "I know. I'm not trying to be an a.s.s. It's just . . ."

"It comes naturally?" asked Bear, shaking his head.

Bryan turned back to the computer screen and bit into the m.u.f.fin. "Right," he muttered. " 'Fraid so."

Bear stopped in the process of refilling his own coffee mug. "You're not used to people knowing your business. I get it. This is an extraordinary circ.u.mstance, though, so you're going to have to deal."

"A bit of the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?"

Bear shrugged and stirred the milk into his coffee. "Yeah, but I can recognize the tendency in others a h.e.l.l of a lot easier than I can in myself."

Bryan snorted his reply.

"Make the call. I'll go outside so you can have real privacy." Bear headed for the patio door.

Bryan slid on the computer headphones with the built-in microphone and made the call like Bear had shown him last night. Marissa's number only rang once from his end before she answered.

"Hollywood?" Her husky Texas tw.a.n.g was there, even when she just said his name.

"Yeah, it's me."

"I'm about to board a plane into Hartsfield. I've got a meeting in Atlanta tonight to get the scoop on Tomas Rivera and a possible dirty DEA connection."

Bryan was stunned. He always was by the depths of Risa's sources. "How did you get the intel?"

And so fast?

"I have a friend in the Justice Department."

Of course she did. Risa had "friends" everywhere.

"I don't use him often, but his information is always good, and the contact is invaluable."

Bryan didn't doubt that. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Meet me in downtown Atlanta at the Glenn Hotel on Marietta. Alone. I want you to hear what this source has to say. You can question him yourself. You'll know things to ask that I won't. Can you get there by nine PM?"

Bryan took a sip of coffee as he thought through the options and his answer. Atlanta was over six hours from Bear's home. It would take longer to get there if he had to take back roads. Leaving Sa.s.sy here would be best; he knew that. They were wanted by police everywhere in the Southeast.

Travelling together was dangerous. He'd seen the evidence of that last night with Nick and Leland. You were completely out of options when the woman you loved was with you and the police came knocking.

The woman you loved?

Did he love Sa.s.sy? This sure as h.e.l.l wasn't the time to be contemplating that question. And it wasn't like he didn't already know the answer.

That, more than anything, had him answering Marissa in the affirmative. "Yes, I can be there. Not sure exactly what time I'll get to town. I need to arrange transportation first. But I'll be there for your meeting. Where exactly at the Glenn will you be?"

"The SkyLounge on the rooftop."

"Got it. Text me when you land at Hartsfield." Without Bear's intervention, Bryan wouldn't be able to call Risa back without being traced, but he wasn't going to go into all that with her now. Besides, once he was away from here without Sa.s.sy, his concerns over being traced wouldn't be as significant.

"Sounds good," she said.

He heard the announcement for Risa's flight over the phone as he ended the call. The sun was rising, and he headed out to the deck, where Bear was stacking wood by the sliding gla.s.s door. The air was cool and crisp. "G.o.d, it's beautiful here. I see why you'd never want to leave."

Bear stopped working to sip coffee from a thermal mug and stare out over the golden-tinged valley. "I love it." His breath puffed gray smoke around his mouth as he spoke. "What do you need?"

"How did you know I'd need-" Bryan stopped and appreciated anew his friend's intelligence, even with the social gaffes.

Bear took another slug of coffee and turned from the spectacular view. "You weren't going to talk to someone in Paris and not need something."

"I need transportation. I have to be in Atlanta this evening."

"Are you particular about four wheels, or can it be two? I already offered my truck to a family friend today to move. There'll be questions if I undo that. But I've got a motorcycle in the storage shed. It'll take you every bit of seven hours to get to Atlanta, but it's doable. Unless . . . Wait a second. You're not taking Sa.s.sy, are you?"

"A bike is fine." Bryan didn't want to talk about this with Bear or anyone else.

"What about Sa.s.sy?" asked Bear. Bryan could feel his friend staring at him. "Have you told her that she's not going? Why aren't you taking her?"

Uncomfortable, Bryan shifted under Bear's steady gaze. He couldn't take Sa.s.sy for a number of reasons, limited transportation options being just one. But that was the perfect excuse, a way out.

Bear started shaking his head even before Bryan could supply his manufactured reason. "I understand not wanting to take her because it's dangerous, but when are you going to tell her that you're leaving without her?"

Bryan kept his eyes on the incredible vista before him. He didn't want to answer that or fess up to what he was about to do.

Bear's tone changed from concern to chagrin. "Well s.h.i.t, Hollywood. You're going to leave me with a furious woman in the middle of nowhere, aren't you? That's not a nice thing to do."

Bryan's laugh was rueful. No, it wasn't a nice thing to do at all, to either of them. He finally met his friend's gaze, prepared to fall on his sword. "I know. But if she wakes up, there'll be no getting away from here on my own. She'll wear us both down."

Bear raised an eyebrow. "You're scared of a woman who doesn't weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet?"

"h.e.l.l, yes. And you would be, too, if you knew what was good for you."

Bear snorted. "She's got your number, doesn't she?" He shook his head and shut the woodbox before sliding off his work gloves. "Come on, let's get you ready to ride. You're going to need more substantial clothing than what you're wearing. I've got something that should fit." They walked down the stairs, heading for the shed on the other side of the cabin.

Thirty minutes later, Bryan stood in the kitchen, outfitted in a black leather jacket and pants with multiple layers, insulated gloves, and a helmet. He was ready.

"Take more food," suggested Bear. "You won't want to stop along the way. At least not for meals."

Bryan nodded, and Bear handed over a half dozen protein bars and four bottles of water for the bike saddlebags. "If you plan to be gone before she wakes up, you need to leave now," he warned.

"Yeah, I know."

Now that it was time, Bryan was hesitating. He knew he was making a mistake to go without telling Sa.s.sy goodbye. But it was the cla.s.sic d.a.m.ned if he did, d.a.m.ned if he didn't scenario.

"Tell her . . ." Bryan's voice drifted off. He didn't know what to tell her. That was the problem.

"What can I say that won't have her mad as h.e.l.l at the both of us?" asked Bear.

Bryan sighed. "Are you a coward?"

Bear laughed, seeming to take no offense at the question. "Nope. But I'm no fool. I'm no hero, either, especially when it comes to dealing with angry women."

But Bryan knew that Bear would guard Sa.s.sy with his life. No matter what the man said about not being a hero.

"Just tell her I'll be back. Tomorrow evening at the latest."

"Got it," said Bear.

Bryan climbed onto the vivid black bike and settled into the leather seat. The Harley had a definite retro look with all the chrome and tank flame graphics. But everything about it was state of the art, from its Twin Cam engine to its next-generation security system. It occurred to him that Bear was loaning him his most treasured possession.

"I know this is above and beyond. I don't know how to thank-"

"What is this?" interrupted Bear. "Get out of here before that woman wakes up."

Bryan smiled. In deference to the cold weather, he swiped the starter b.u.t.ton before holding it down ten seconds later. The engine roared to life, breaking the silence of the early morning air.

"Thank you," Bryan mouthed over the rumble of the exhaust.

"Go," demanded Bear, refusing his grat.i.tude.

Bryan revved the engine once more and drove out of the clearing beside the house. For better or worse, he was on his way to Atlanta.

Sa.s.sY WOKE TO the sound of an engine revving. It wasn't a car; it had to be a motorcycle. She reached out and touched only covers where Bryan had been lying earlier.

He wasn't there. The sheets weren't even warm. Her feet hit the floor, and she rushed for the window as that engine sound rumbled farther away in the distance.

She knew, without going downstairs, that it was Bryan.

He'd left her. Again.

After everything.

After all his talk of feeling guilty over what had happened after he'd left Springwater, she was on her own once more to make things happen and to get Trey out of jail. She'd been right to worry about trusting Bryan completely.

In his defense, he'd warned her last night.

You shouldn't trust me. . .

Sa.s.sy flopped back on the bed, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. The faint scent of wood smoke and Bryan clung to his pillow. The front door opened and closed. That would be Bear.

She lay in shock on top of the duvet. No reason to rush downstairs. What was the point?

She showered before going to talk with Bear, hoping the extra time would help her pull it together. He had to be dreading the conversation. As much as she'd like to, she wasn't going to sharpen her teeth on that gentle giant of a man. He'd gone above and beyond what Bryan had asked.

Was it just yesterday afternoon that they'd met him at the diner outside Charleston?

In the shower she washed her hair and thought through the options. The only thing she could do now was write the story and get it to her editor. So that's what she'd do. She dressed and went down to find Bear at his computer, along with a cheery fire burning. He looked up as she hit the bottom step, and his expression changed from concentration to wariness.

"Morning, Bear. Bryan's gone, isn't he?"

Bear nodded and pushed back from the desk to face her. "You heard the motorcycle? Bryan said to tell you he'd be back tomorrow night."

She shrugged but said nothing. Tomorrow night would mark yet another day gone. The clock was ticking so loudly for Trey right now, she could hear nothing else.

"Sa.s.sy, he couldn't take you. Not with your pictures plastered all over TV and you both wanted for murder. Half the country's law enforcement agencies are looking for the two of you."

She nodded. "I know. There's always a logical and reasonable explanation."

But the bottom line was she was here alone while Bryan was gone. Perhaps he was "saving them." He didn't think her news story was going to help anything. He'd made that perfectly clear.

So, she'd prove him wrong.

Like she'd done to every other naysayer in her life. Howard would want this story. Sa.s.sy was certain of it. And it could be the start of breaking down the walls to Trey's release. She could do it on her own.

A voice in her head warned that she wasn't supposed to go off all "half-c.o.c.ked," as Bryan had said, but she ignored it. If she did nothing, Trey would spend the rest of his life in a Mexican jail. Besides, she wasn't going off "half-c.o.c.ked." In fact, she wasn't going anywhere.

Bear was studying her with the wary expression of a sailor watching violent clouds gather on the horizon. Reminding herself that blowing up at her host would do nothing to help the situation, Sa.s.sy tamped down her frustration and tempered her smile.

"Can you bring up my research again that I was looking at last night?" She bent over to pat Lily and got an enthusiastic puppy kiss for her effort.

Bear nodded. "Sure, just give me a couple of minutes." He looked decidedly relieved at the pa.s.sing of Storm Sa.s.sy and began typing on his keyboard.

Sa.s.sy washed up before grabbing some coffee and a m.u.f.fin the size of her hand from the kitchen. The warmth of the cup was a small comfort. She was cold all over, but it hadn't registered before now. Feeling abandoned had that effect on her. After a couple of moments, Bear stood, turned the computer over to her, and walked upstairs.

Using her yellow legal pad, Sa.s.sy worked from her online notes and interviews, including the conversation with everyone last night. Pulling the story pieces together from Leland's experience with Ford Johnson and the Colton bust, she looked up some old news stories and pulled quotes from Johnson himself at the civil trial that had taken place when Ellis Colton had sued the government for his wife's injuries and his baby's wrongful death.

Sa.s.sy laid out what she'd learned from Nick and Jennifer as well. She layered in what she'd discovered about the cartel involvement and the human trafficking situation that spread from Mexico to Africa, details she'd picked up while looking into Elizabeth's disappearance. There were pa.s.sages that could use more filling in, but that could be done later. The story was intricate, and would lend itself to being a multi-piece series.

It was late afternoon when she finally stood up from the computer and stretched. She was done, or at least as close to done as she needed to be before talking to Howard to see how interested he really was and when he might be able to run a story like this. She typed out a quick message with just enough of an outline to whet Howard's appet.i.te: murder, drugs, government conspiracy, s.e.x trafficking.

Given her communication limitations, she went in search of Bear. She found him outside, just off the patio with its stunning overlook. He was splitting wood and humming a James Taylor song as he worked. She knew the moment he heard her approach, because he abruptly quit doing both.

"Can you help me send an email without its being traced?" she asked.

"Absolutely. Whatcha got?"

They headed back into the cabin, where she showed him the message for Howard. He talked her through the steps of sending it so it wouldn't be traceable. After thirty seconds, the telltale swoosh of an outgoing email tone sounded.

She looked up with a smile. "Excellent. Now how about some lunch? I make a mean omelet, and I'm starved."

"Lunch? Woman, lunchtime was hours ago. I was about to throw a couple of steaks on the grill. How about some wine to go with them?"