He expected it to be another of the newspaper editors determined to hire Callie, so he didn’t move to answer it. But when he realized it was Callie’s voice coming over the answering machine, he lunged for the phone, intending to get some answers from her. But he wasn’t fast enough. He rewound the tape and listened to the message. What? Sloan Bennett again? Her ongoing association with this character was more than getting on his nerves. The jealousy rose up in him like an angry red tide. When he listened to the message again, he noticed something else. Callie sounded worried. No, scared. And Sloan was a cop. Dammit, if Callie was in trouble, why didn’t she dial 911 like everyone else? Sam quickly tamped down his frustration with Callie as another, more primitive emotion took over. Someone or something was threatening the woman he loved, and he was by God going to protect her. Douglas and Woodland, she’d said? He’d find the intersection, and he’d find her. He started for the door, then paused.
