Cassie looked toward her mother sitting at the kitchen table, worry lining her face. “Jameson is coming over.” She picked up the phone again and called the highway patrol. As she asked if there were any accidents on the road between Savannah and Magnolia Falls, her mother’s expression darkened.

      “Were there any?” Victoria Winters asked when Cassie replaced the receiver in its cradle.

      “No.”

      “Try Scott again.”

      “I’ve already called and left four messages.”

      Her mother rose and leaned into the table with her fists on its wooden top. “Try.”

      Cassie called but didn’t bother to leave another message. Something was wrong. They both knew it but neither wanted to say it out loud. Not showing up when he’d said he would was something he had done back when he had been drinking heavily.

      She could remember one time in particular a couple of years ago when her mother had insisted she go over to Scott’s apartment after he hadn’t shown up for a job interview with a friend of the family. She had found him passed out on the floor, completely unresponsive. The doctor had later said that if she hadn’t gotten him medical help when she had, he would have died.

      “Something else probably came up. The life of a reporter can be unpredictable,” Cassie offered.

      Her mom shook her head. “No. No, that isn’t it. He made it a point to make sure we would be here so he could talk to us. Something else has happened, Cassie. I know it in here.” She tapped her chest over her heart. “I don’t get this feeling often, but when I do, there is always something wrong.”

      Cassie wanted to argue the point with her but couldn’t find the words. Her mother was right. The few times she had insisted something was wrong, it had been. “What do you want to do? Call the police?”

      Her mother’s eyes grew round, and she sank down onto the chair. “The police? If for some reason Scott has started drinking again, he would be so upset that we—”

      The doorbell chimed. “That’s probably Jameson. I’ll be right back.”

      On her way out of the kitchen she heard her mother mutter, “He’s such a nice young man. Maybe he can help us find Scott.”

      Cassie opened the front door and found Jameson King filling her entrance with his large presence. Relief flooded her as she stared into his blue eyes. “Come in. Scott still hasn’t called or shown up, and Mom is beside herself. She’s in the kitchen.”

      Jameson followed her into the room and greeted her mother with a smile. “I’m sure Scott’s all right, Mrs. Winters.”

      “No, he isn’t.” Her mother swung her tear-misted gaze to Cassie. “You should go to Savannah and check on him. Please. This sitting around waiting is driving me crazy.”

      “Sure, Mom, and if he comes here, call me on my cell.” Her heart wrenched seeing her mother so upset. “Why don’t you lie down and rest? I’ll call you when I get to Scott’s apartment.”

      “I won’t sleep until you let me know he’s fine. In fact—” she started for the counter where her purse sat “—I’m going with you. I don’t want you going alone.”

      “Mom, you’ve been sick. I’ve driven back and forth from here to Savannah so many times I could do it blindfolded.”

      “Darling, I don’t think you—”

      “Mrs. Winters, I’ll drive Cassie to Scott’s. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

      Her mother fastened her attention on Jameson. “You will?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “You see, I’ll be fine.” Cassie took her mother’s arm and led her toward the living room. “So while I’m gone, promise me you’ll put your feet up in your lounger and rest, or I won’t go.”

      Her mom’s mouth pinched into a frown. “I don’t like being blackmailed.”

      “I wouldn’t have to resort to it if you’d follow your doctor’s orders. You did too much today.” Cassie helped settle her into the comfortable chair, then put the footrest up for her. “I’m a phone call away if you need me or if Scott finally shows up.” She pulled her cell out of her jeans pocket to emphasize the point.

      Her mother waved her hand. “Go, y’all. Now.”

      Five minutes later Cassie sat next to Jameson in his car as he backed out of the driveway and headed toward the highway. For a moment she let the silence lengthen while she calmed herself. Her mother’s recent bout with pneumonia worried Cassie more than Scott’s lateness.

      “Thanks for going to Savannah with me,” she said, needing to take her mind off her mother’s failing health. She was in God’s hands. He would care for her. “When Mom insists on something, nothing can change her mind. I’m sure that’s where my brother got his stubbornness.”

      “But not you?”

      “I’m not stubborn. I’m pretty laid-back.”

      “How did that happen with a brother and mother who aren’t?”

      “That’s why I am. Someone has to give in or you live in angst all the time. Not good for you.”

      On the highway the gray of dusk cloaked the landscape in shadows. The sun sank below the tree line, coloring the pale blue sky with orange, yellow and rose. Soon it would be dark, and Cassie was secretly glad that Jameson had volunteered to drive her to Savannah. Her vivid imagination could get the best of her.

      “I can’t imagine what Scott wanted to talk to Mom and me about. He didn’t give you any indication?”

      “I got the impression it concerned a story he’s working on.”

      “But then why would he want to talk to us? Do you think it had something to do with those students on the basketball team that he interviewed the other day? Or maybe the skeleton found under the library sidewalk? That would be a story Scott would go after.”

      He shrugged. “It could be. That’s the first question we can ask him when we find him.”

      Each time Jameson said “we” her smile grew. She liked the sound of it. “I just hope we don’t pass him on the highway.”

      “What kind of car does he drive? I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

      “A 1966 red Ford Mustang.”

      “That shouldn’t be too hard to spot. At least not until it gets dark.”

      “We’ll be on the outskirts of Savannah by that time.” Which was probably about thirty minutes away.

      As silence engulfed the car again, Cassie searched her mind for a new topic of conversation. There was so much she wanted to know about Jameson, now that she had him as a captive audience. “So, where are you from originally? Where were you a reporter?”

      “New York City.”

      “One of the big papers?”

      He nodded. “The Times.”

      She whistled. “What made you give it up?”

      “It was time to move on.” His tone indicated he wasn’t going to offer more information than that.

      “Why did you come to Magnolia College?”

      “It has a good journalism department.”

      “A lot of colleges do. How’d you hear about the school?”

      Cassie couldn’t help noticing his stiff posture and tight grip on the steering wheel. “I thought I was the