Her office door opened, and Jamie Lewis, her editor, stuck his head inside. Jamie had recently transferred down from their Charleston, South Carolina, paper, and he’d made an almost seamless transition into the small-town atmosphere of Natchez.

“I found a file photo of Lou Ann Whittington,” he said, obviously pleased with himself. “She belongs to one of the local Mardi Gras krewes, and we have a shot of her riding a float. You want to run it with the story?”

“Is she in costume or anything?”

“No, it’s a decent shot.”

“Run it. She’s going to be a national hero by nine A.M. tomorrow, and people are going to want to see what she looks like.”

Jamie grinned. “Granny to punks: Make my day! We should change our name to the Natchez Enquirer.”

Caitlin grabbed a pen and threw it at him, but Jamie dodged the missile easily. Then he clucked his tongue three times and left.

Caitlin shoved her chair away from the desk and cursed under her breath. She hated playing catch-up. She was on the cusp of a story with national implications, yet she was almost powerless to move forward. She had no way to replicate Henry’s years of dogged investigation of the Double Eagle group. And while she did have Henry working for her, at least in theory, he was beyond her reach and might well die before morning.

She was sure of only one thing: Penn knew a lot more about Henry’s work than he’d told her so far. Last night he’d spent at least ninety minutes at the Beacon offices. Given Henry’s respect for Dr. Cage, the reporter had probably told Penn most of what he knew.

Knowing it wasn’t the best move she could make, Caitlin lifted her landline and dialed Penn’s cell phone. He was probably asleep by now, but she couldn’t restrain herself. If she waited until morning, she’d be even farther behind on the story.

“Caitlin?” he said, sounding surprisingly alert.

“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry I was such a bitch before.”

“It’s okay. This has been a crazy day.”

“Is Annie asleep?”

He hesitated. “Not yet.”

“You sound funny. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Penn swallowed something. Probably water beside his bed.

She let the silence drag for a couple of seconds. “I spoke to Lou Ann Whittington, the receptionist who saved Henry’s life. She told me that Henry had decided to accept my offer. That’s why he was moving his files.”

“Good for you. I figured that might be it, but that’s not what she told Sheriff Dennis.”