The other man was more sober. “Miss Larkin turned in her resignation last week, which I accepted with regret. I have no idea if she’s still in Washington.”

This couldn’t stand. Gray wasn’t certain he could ever repair the chasm between them, but he didn’t want her in Kansas. The thought was intolerable.

He raced outside and toward the nearest streetcar stop. During the twenty-minute ride across town, he clenched the overhead strap, willing the streetcar to go faster. How could she leave without saying good-bye? Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, but she owed him at least that much.

His anxiety ratcheted higher. He wouldn’t know how to reach her if she’d already gone back to Kansas. It was a huge state, and she could be anywhere. He’d be forever stuck with this gnawing sense of regret and dreams of what might have been.

He hopped off the streetcar in her working-class neighborhood, then barreled down the street, anger alternating with fear at each passing block. What if he was too late? How could he track her down in Kansas? He finally reached her apartment, vaulted up the stairs and down the dimly lit hallway, and pounded on the door.

“Annabelle?” he called out. He wiggled the doorknob, but it was locked. “Annabelle? Answer this door.” He struggled to contain his breathing.

He heard footsteps, but the door remained firmly closed. A voice called out from the other side, “Gray, is that you?”

Relief crashed through him. “It’s me. Please open the door.”

She did, gaping at him in bewilderment. Behind her, the apartment was littered with traveling bags, and fear roared back to life. She really was leaving!

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “The people at your lab said you quit and are returning to Kansas.”

“Yes, I am,” she said in that same bewildered tone, and from the look of things, her departure was imminent.

“Just like that?” he asked, snapping his fingers. “You can’t.”

She snapped her fingers right back in his face. “Watch me.”

He was being foolish, but it was a struggle to tamp down this roiling combination of panic, hurt, and regret. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her go. Not yet. He stepped inside the apartment and shut the door. They had unfinished business. Mostly personal, but business-business too. It was a lot easier to deal with the business aspect.

“I need your help getting the upper hand on the Magruders,” he said. “It’s important. You can help.”

And just like that, the bright smile lit up her face. She’d always, always been able to capture him with that smile.

He leaned down to grasp her forearms. “It’s a long shot. That’s why I need your help.”

“I’d prefer that you don’t touch my daughter,” a stern woman’s voice commanded.