Kimberly Wantland stared out the window of The Wantland Files van, marveling at the lush forests blanketing the rolling hills. Until her crew investigated Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, she’d never been to the Ozarks and couldn’t get over how green they were. Nothing like the stark, barren mountains surrounding her hometown of Albuquerque. Back home, hues of beige, tan, and gray dominated. Seeing new places was one of the best things about her paranormal investigations.
Her show director, Michael, sang along to the radio as he drove them away from Eureka Springs toward their next destination. She glanced back at Rosie, her personal assistant/stylist/best friend, and Elise, the show’s lead researcher, in the middle seats. Rosie must surely be feeling each mile that took her farther from Lorenzo, the ghost tour guide she’d started dating at The Crescent Hotel. How long would her personal assistant last in a long-distance relationship? She hoped it would work out. Rosie deserved someone who treated her well, after years of disastrous relationships.
Stan and TJ, her camera operators, drove ahead of them in the unmarked equipment van.
She flicked her eyes to the side-view mirror outside her window, chiding herself for the umpteenth time for her lack of control. Sterling’s BMW i8 still trailed along behind them. And she still couldn’t catch a glimpse of him through the heavily tinted windows. So why did she keep trying?
She should close her eyes and sleep while she could. A nap could go a long way to recharging her batteries after a draining investigation. But she felt restless and couldn’t seem to relax.
Another glance at the side-view mirror brought the realization she had no control and vague irritation with herself. If Sterling had wanted her beside him in his car, he would’ve suggested it. But he didn’t. And she darned sure wouldn’t be the one to ask. “I’ll ride in the van with Michael, I guess,” was the most she’d been able to bring herself to say, hoping to prompt an offer of a ride in his new car. He could have, nay should have, been in the corporate vehicles like everyone else. But no, he’d missed the convoy when they headed out from Albuquerque for the season.
Why did this irritate her so much?
The van crossed a bridge, which spanned a breathtaking valley. She forced her attention away from the mirror and back to appreciating her surroundings. She would see Sterling soon enough but didn’t know when or if she would have the opportunity to see this beautiful part of the country again.
Rosie, seated behind Michael, leaned forward and patted her shoulder. “We’ll need to stop for gas and a restroom break within the hour, girl. Don’t worry. I’ll have the perfect excuse cooked up to get you in his car by then.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she murmured, heat flushing her cheeks. Rosie knew her too well. Nothing escaped her best friend’s notice.
Michael glanced away from the road just long enough to give her his patented eye roll from hell. “Puh-leeze. You’re not fooling anyone. Just ride with Sterling. Seriously. It’ll be a good chance for you two to bond and learn more about each other.”
She opened her mouth to explain she didn’t want to leave them behind to endure Sterling’s insufferable arrogance and self-assured attitude, even for the chance to sit in that sweet ride with the cool butterfly doors. Cars didn’t impress her, so what did she care? She didn’t.
Before she could get one word out, Elise, normally withdrawn, cried out, “I call shotgun!”
“You can have it,” Rosie said. “I’ll be in the backseat with binoculars texting her tips and making sure she doesn’t do anything silly.”
“Rosie! I do not need relationship tips! Especially not from—”
“Uh-uh,” Rosie interrupted. “I’m the only one of us currently in a relationship, therefore I am the learned scholar as far as you’re concerned.”
She crossed her arms. “I am single by choice. I don’t have time for any of the nonsense relationships inevitably bring.”
The three of them laughed. If her cheeks weren’t red before, they were definitely flaming now. They could at least pretend the statement carried some truth. So she hadn’t found the right guy yet. She was a busy woman.
Michael’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and passed the phone to her. “Randmeier. Better take it for me. He knows we’re en route and that I’m driving so it must be important.”
She accepted his phone, stomach in knots. What could be so important that their producer Randall Hoffmeier was calling? Was he upset with her? Had she done something wrong? Her pre-teen self squirmed within her, as if she were being called downstairs in trouble. She could still hear Dad’s deep baritone calling, “Kimberly Annabelle Wantland! Come downstairs.”
She shook her head, knowing she’d done nothing wrong, and accepted the call. “Michael’s phone.”
“Kimberly! Randall calling. Michael beside you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. We need to call an audible. Emergency situation. I’m sure you’ll see the request once you’re settled, but we have some frantic parents begging for help.”
“The season is already slated—”
“That’s what I said when the interns first brought this to me. But the parents keep calling, desperate. And the case sounds like a doozy. Where are you guys right now?”
“I’m not certain. Still in Arkansas I think.” She shrugged and looked at Michael for confirmation.
He nodded. “What’s up?”
“Tell Michael you guys need to divert to Guthrie in Oklahoma. You’re probably only about four hours or so away.”
“But—”
“Their child is sick, Kimberly. I know you can’t resist cases revolving around children. You have to go help. Besides, if this is as hot as I think it is, we can substitute it for any cases that fizzle and aren’t exciting enough. I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay, I’ll—”
He ended the call.
She stared at the phone before passing it back to Michael.
He cocked an eyebrow. “What was that?”
“He said—” Her phone chimed her text tone—echoing footsteps. An address materialized on her phone in a text preview box. “He said we’re going to Guthrie.”