Amanda’s stomach churned as she picked up her cell phone to try once more. Why wasn’t he picking up? If she didn’t get to him in time to stop that story from going to press…The call went immediately to messages. Gritting her teeth, she ended the call. Little point in adding yet another “where are you?” to the ones she’d already recorded.She crossed her tiny living room in five steps and stared out the front window, catching a group of tourists with cameras pointed in her direction.Letting the curtain fall between them, she took a deep breath. A few tourists was nothing compared to the crowd that would descend on Mamma and Daddy’s house if that story ran. She couldn’t let that happen.She picked up the phone again. Time to bring in the big guns. She hadn’t wanted to call Mamma, fearing her mother would read the anxiety in her tone, but she couldn’t waste any more time, not when her mental clock ticked away the hours until the paper went to press.“Mamma? Hi, it’s Manda.”“Sugar, what’s goin’ on with you?
