Will rode his motorcycle around the Macon General parking lot until he spotted Sara’s BMW. It was a stupid thing to do, but he was feeling pretty stupid lately anyway. She’d bypassed the doctors’ lot and found a spot in the back under a stand of shade trees. He suppressed the desire to get off his bike and touch the hood of her car. Will told himself it was only to see how long she’d been there, but deep down he knew he wanted some kind of connection. Which was embarrassing and pathetic enough to make him gun the engine and proceed to the employee lot at an unadvisable speed. Fortunately, burning some rubber in the parking lot was exactly the kind of thing his alter ego would do. Will had gone undercover before. He liked to think that he was pretty good at getting into character. There were some happily retired chickens in North Georgia who could attest to his skills. While busting a cockfighting ring was not as dangerous as his current assignment, the GBI’s information officers had managed to give Will an even more impressive cover this time around.
