“I’ve never really gotten out and explored the area.”

“You should.”

She smiled apologetically over her indifference to the topography. Then, “What happened between Jay and Hallie?”

He looked in the direction of the river. “He broke her heart. She expected faithfulness, which wasn’t in Jay’s character. Not even in his vocabulary. He got what he wanted, which was a hard-won notch on his belt. Maybe two since Hallie was my fiancée. In effect, she and I both got fucked by Jay Burgess.”

He realized he had clenched his hands into fists and was feeling the rage he’d felt when he learned how his best friend had betrayed him with Hallie, then discarded her. To Jay, she’d been just another conquest. “She caught him cheating, scooped up the pieces of her broken heart, and left Charleston.”

Feeling Britt’s inquiring gaze on him, he said, “I waited a couple of years and then decided to try and contact her. I used a pay phone at the general store and called her folks, the only way I knew of reaching her.

“Soon as I identified myself, I got an obscene tongue-lashing from her dad. See, they believed what your news stories had implied about me. But before he hung up, he told me-no, he crowed it, proudly, triumphantly-that Hallie had married an extremely successful orthopedic surgeon in Denver and they were expecting their first child.”

Even insects had abandoned the airstrip. Without their night music, there was nothing to break the heavy stillness. The clock in the dashboard ticked. That was all.

Raley heard the rustle of fabric as Britt shifted, turning toward him. She bent her left knee and tucked that foot beneath her right leg.

“Before I go back and throw myself on the mercy of Clark and Javier, I think you should tell me about your investigation into the police station fire.”

CHAPTER 13

FIRST, I HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU,” RALEY SAID. “WHO was your source? Who tipped you about me and the events of that Sunday morning?”

Britt took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Jay Burgess.”

He didn’t slam a fist into the dashboard or start cursing a blue streak. Nothing like that, nothing that she might have expected. But she saw his jaw clench so tightly that even his beard couldn’t hide it. “I figured. How did that come about?”

“I met him on my first news assignment in Charleston. I was sent to report on a fatal stabbing in a seedy bar in a seedy part of town. After I’d finished doing my stand-up, Jay, who was investigating the crime scene, came over and introduced himself. He said something corny like ‘Do you come here often?’”

“You thought that was cute.”

“It was cute. We introduced ourselves, made small talk, then he asked me if I had a significant other. He said if so, he was going to throw himself off a bridge. If not, would I meet him later for a drink, in a better bar.”

“And you went.”

“He was good looking and charming. A policeman, which I considered safe. So, yes, I went and I liked him.”

He arched his eyebrow.

“No, Raley, I didn’t sleep with him that night.”

“Second date?”

She refused to be provoked. “A few days after that initial meeting, Jay called me at the TV station.”

She answered her newsroom extension with a bright and chipper, “Britt Shelley.”

“This is your lucky day.”

“I’ve been chosen to enjoy a weekend in the Ozarks to look at time-share property?”

“Better.”

“I’ve won the lottery?”

“Journalistically speaking.”

“I’m all ears.”

“I’d rather you not say my name.”

Of course she’d recognized his voice instantly, but it no longer had a smile behind it. “Okay.”

“Ever.”

That tone couldn’t be mistaken for anything except dead serious. “Are we talking about a story?” She reached for her notepad and a pen.

“A dilly. And it can’t be divulged that I’m your source.”

“Understood.”

“I can’t talk now, and not over the phone.”

They set the time for eleven forty-five that night, after the late news broadcast and giving other personnel time to leave the building and clear the parking lot.

She wasn’t surprised that Jay Burgess had called her again. She’d expected it. They’d had a good time over the first round of drinks-well, he’d had a second, but he hadn’t become intoxicated. It had been an easy, comfortable, getting-to-know-you date. Where did you grow up, attend school? Do you like sports, movies, books, spicy foods? Ever been married? Favorite vacation destination? Fantasy vacation destination?

They’d closed out the pleasant evening with his promise that he’d be in touch soon, and she’d believed him.

She had assumed that his follow-up call would be to ask her out again, not tip her to a “dilly” of a story. But she wasn’t disappointed. She was far more interested in building a faithful following of viewers than in entering into what she knew would be nothing more than a compatible fling. For both her and Jay, hormones might have become agreeably involved, but never hearts. She had determined that within half an hour of meeting him.

Over time, she’d realized that, among many young professionals on their way up, there was an unspoken understanding that any kind of romance was a frivolity. She had come to recognize men who were of a similar mind as she, those who weren’t looking for a permanent partner, those to whom dates were occasions for relaxing and unwinding, or sometimes, by mutual consent, for assuaging sexual impulses. Nothing more.

Among this unspecified group of upwardly mobile people, rarely did anyone enter into a relationship that was expected to withstand the demands of two careers and the ambitions of the individuals driving them. Lasting relationships required time and attention that was, instead, channeled into professional pursuits, which took precedence over amore.

She liked men. She enjoyed their company. Periodically she enjoyed sleeping with one. But she had moved frequently, sometimes staying at a station for no longer than a year before sending out her résumé to see if there was an opportunity for her to advance to the next level.

There had been neither the time nor the desire to develop anything more meaningful than a handful of friendships, most of which had, by her design, remained platonic and, most important, uncomplicated. She was able to give notice, pack, and leave a town without a backward glance, without regret, without a broken heart, either hers or an abandoned admirer’s.

On the horizon of her mind she would occasionally glimpse herself meeting someone irresistible, someone who would become as important to her as her work. Commitment and marriage, a sense of belonging to someone else would be nice, especially since she’d spent almost half of her life alone.

Yes, certainly, she would like to have that kind of intimacy with a man, one who would anticipate her needs, know her feelings, appreciate her ambition, receive and reciprocate her love. She would love to have children, more than one, because she wouldn’t want to leave a child of hers without a family, as she’d been left without one when her parents died.

But for now, all that could stay on the distant horizon. That life belonged to “someday.” Today, she was happy to be unencumbered.

She immediately recognized that Jay Burgess subscribed to the same policy. He was an unconscionable flirt, obviously a man who liked women but who probably would never settle for one. He was fun to be with, but woe be to the woman who fell in love with him.

But as she sat inside her car in the darkened parking lot of the television station, waiting for him to arrive, she was squiggly with the excitement of a spinster waiting on her first beau to call.

He pulled his car into the empty slot next to hers, got out, and after taking a cautious look around at the deserted lot, opened the passenger door and got in.