Page 8 of Finding Chaos

“Who?” I asked.

She shrugged. “People in the industry will kill for proof like that, so when you get it, you don’t share your sources with anyone until you’ve aired the story.”

“He shared with you,” I said, handing her back the phone.

“Ritchie knows I’d never steal his thunder. I have plenty of my own.”

“Yeah, well, Putnam should have vetted the source a bit better. That picture looks fake, and I’ve been in these woods a long time and I’ve never seen anything like that.”

She shrugged. “We’d chase rainbows if it meant catching proof of a leprechaun.”

“And to steal the gold,” I mumbled under my breath while putting my water bottle and trash away. I climbed back on the 4-wheeler and held out my hand. “Let’s go. We’re losing daylight hours.”

Her body was warm against my back, her breath heated on my neck, and her hold was a gentle caress.

I gunned the machine again, ignoring the simmering attraction. If Putnam had found the lady in white, he was in more danger than anyone even knew.

---