He wondered if the best way to combat the negative publicity and speculation was to hit it head on. Speak to one of the reporters who had been dogging him, tell his side of it.

He sipped his second scotch. Decided he’d wait until Rowdy had gotten back to him—Rowdy, whom James was counting on to prove his innocence.

Or not. Remember: You’re not completely clear on what happened that night.

Drumming his fingers on the table, he attempted to dismiss the nagging notion that he might somehow be at fault—if not directly, at least indirectly. “Oh, hell.” Scraping his chair back, he walked to the kitchen, where he finished his drink and set his glass into the gleaming sink.

He had nothing to hide. He’d phone a reporter and tell his side of the story—consequences be damned. Sliding his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, he quickly scrolled through his missed calls. The last member of the press who’d left a message was Charity Spritz, the reporter he’d nearly thrown off his front porch. She was local. She would do.

It was after ten, but she’d practically been salivating to hear his side of the story. “Today’s your lucky day,” he said, hitting the CALL BACK button on his phone.

His call went straight to voice mail.

Rather than leave a message, he clicked off. Thought about it. He could try again in the morning. If he didn’t have a change of heart. Maybe by then Megan would have returned. Maybe by then Rebecca too would call him back.

And maybe by then pigs really would fly.

His cell rang in his hand. He checked the number. Not Charity Spritz, as he’d expected. The caller was Sophia.

His jaw tightened involuntarily. He didn’t want to talk to her. Wasn’t certain he ever wanted to see her again. It was time to end this. Long past time, really.

He clicked on, but before he could say a word, Sophia said, “You’re home, right? I’m coming over.”

“Yeah, I am, but I don’t think that’s—”

“I’m on my way.”

“No, Sophia, don’t come.”

But it was too late. She’d already disconnected.

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 34

“I just think it might help,” Rebecca Travers was saying from the other end of the connection.

Rivers, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder while clutching a bag of groceries, unlocked his door and stepped into his condo.