Again the white Caddy lagged, and once more Charity gave a quick, pointed beep of her Hyundai’s horn. “Come on, lady! Wake up!” Charity was beginning to understand road rage at a very intimate level. Didn’t the old woman see how much space was between her and the truck in front of the Caddy? Of course not. So Charity said, “Screw it,” and hit the gas, shooting past the older car and tucking her minivan into the spot in front of the white behemoth, narrowly missing a small SUV speeding in the opposite direction.

For her efforts, she was rewarded with a glare and the finger as the driver, a girl in her teens, whipped by.

Charity resisted the urge to return the favor and gritted her teeth, cranking on the wheel around the next corner and maneuvering her van through a side street. Once she was moving again, she thought about her story on James Cahill and the research she’d already done, searching as best she could for information and backstory on Riggs Crossing’s most eligible bachelor. But she had to face the stark fact that there was only so much a girl could do on the Internet.

It wasn’t enough.

She didn’t feel she had a strong enough hook for the series of articles she intended to write, or for the book that was beginning to form in her brain.

Taking another corner, she sped around the parking lot of a convenience store, then down another side street that ran parallel to the main drag.

Sometimes, damn it, a writer needed something more, something tactile to deal with. It was more than just facts and figures; it was a feeling, an emotional connection to the story that she could convey to readers.

She’d tried dealing directly with James himself, and she’d struck out.

For now.

But, she figured, as she adjusted the defroster, if she could just get some background on him or on his family, she would have something to work with, maybe even something to use against him. She wasn’t really going to blackmail him or anything, but she needed a bit of leverage to get him to open up, and the place to start was with his family. For some reason, he was estranged from them. Why in the hell would a person intentionally break off with one of the wealthiest families in San Francisco? Well, maybe wealthiest was a bit of an exaggeration, but still, if not billions, the Cahill family was rumored to be worth hundreds of millions. And the whole clan was scandal-ridden. Perfect fodder for her article, her series, and especially her book.

Not exactly chump change.