I didn’t care. They could rattle away the whole night as long they weren’t Chad pursued by an assortment of bad guys with guns and knives. The relief was so great I burst into tears. The thunder of hooves faded. Tears continued to drip. I’d been so cocky, so full of myself, asking questions all over town as if I were some kind of genuine investigator, when I was nothing but a silly girl who designed costumes and suffered from delusions of grandeur. It was now painfully apparent I wasn’t cut out for this line of work. I couldn’t even tell Chad from a wild hog! I turned off the engine and slid over into the passenger seat. I fished around in my purse for a tissue and dried my tears. As far as Chad was concerned, the hog incident was going to be nothing more than a funny story. Hilarious. And thank God it was too dark for him to see my tear-ravaged face. Or discover the horrible truth that all my thoughts had been for him. I’d never even considered the threat to myself until long after the last faint sounds of pigs crashing through the underbrush had vanished, leaving nothing but chirping insects and the soft rustling of small creatures of the night.
