He laughed heartily. “The joys of small-town reporting,” he mused.

“They never end. How was your trip?”

“Long,” he said. “And I’m starving.”

“Sara made a lovely casserole. I’ll heat you up some.”

He sat down at the kitchen table and watched her work. She made coffee and put a mug of it, black, at his place while she dealt with reheating the chicken casserole.

She warmed up a piece of French bread with butter to go with it. Then she sat down and watched him eat while she sipped her own coffee.

“It sure beats fried snake,” he murmured.

She blinked. “What?”

“Well, we eat what we can find. Usually, it’s a snake. Sometimes, if we’re lucky, a big bird or some fish.”

“In an office building?” she exclaimed.

He glanced at her with amusement. “It’s not always in an office building. Sometimes we have to go out and look at...projects, wherever they might be. This time, it was in a jungle.”

“Wow.” She was worried now. “Poisonous snakes?”

“Mostly. It doesn’t really affect the taste,” he added.

“You could get bitten,” she persisted.

“I’ve been bitten, half a dozen times,” he replied easily. “We always carry antivenin with us.”

“I thought you were someplace safe.”

He studied her worried face and felt a twinge of guilt. “It was just this once,” he lied, and he smiled. “What I do is rarely dangerous.” Another lie. A bigger one. “Nothing to concern you. Honest.”

She propped her face in her hands, her elbows on the table, and watched him finish his meal and his coffee.

“Stop that,” he teased. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for twenty-odd years.”

She grimaced. “Okay. Just checking.”

“I promise not to get killed.”

“If you do, I’m coming after you. Boy, will you be sorry, too.”

He laughed. “I hear you.”

“Want dessert? We have a cherry pie.”

He shook his head. “Maybe later. Where’s Sara?”

“I have no idea. She didn’t even leave a note.”

He pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial. He got up and poured more coffee into his cup while he waited.

“Where are you?” he asked after a minute.

There was a reply. He glanced at Michelle, his lips pursed, his eyes twinkling. “Yes, she’s right here.”

Another silence. He sat back down. He was nodding.

“No, I think it’s a very good idea. But you might have asked for my input first... No, I agree, you have exquisite taste... Yes, that’s true, returns are possible. I won’t tell her. How long?... Okay. See you then.” He smiled. “Me, too. Thanks.”

He hung up.

“Where is she?” she asked.

“On her way home. With a little surprise.”

“Something for me?” she asked, and her face brightened.

“I’d say so.”

“But you guys have already given me so much,” she began, protesting.