“I wanted to—”
The crunch of ice and snow distracted Conner.
Sarah glanced over her shoulder.
Oh, hell.
Not good.
Two news vans roared into the lot, then screeched to abrupt stops around her car. A blond female reporter hopped out of one and hurried toward Sarah as fast as her high heels would carry her through the snow.Before she could reach Sarah, another, this one male, also blond but no heels, sprinted from the second van.
“Sarah, what’s your assessment of the situation here in Youngstown?” This from the female.
Sarah held up her warm, gloved hands. “I have no comment.”
“Come on, Sarah,” the male reporter said as he elbowed his way in next to Conner. “You must have some conclusions. All we need is one sound bite.”
“You’ve been here more than twenty-four hours,” the female urged. “Our viewers would love to hear anything you’ve learned.”
Cameramen, equipment directed on Sarah, crowded up behind their respective reporters.
The sound of more vehicles arriving had Sarah’s attention swinging back to the entrance of the parking lot she’d thought was a secluded spot no one would notice. Another news crew in an SUV and one of Youngstown’s official police cruisers. This just got better and better.
“Back off.”
Sarah turned back to Conner, who was ready to exchange knuckle imprints with one of the cameramen.
“Sarah!” The blond guy. “Do you think there’s any merit in the curse that has folks in Youngstown shaking in their snow boots?”
Cute. “If you knew me,” she said, cutting him a look that let him know how inept she considered his propaganda hype tactic, “you would know the answer to that question without having to ask.”
“Did you lead the local police to the truth, Sarah? We all know your debunking reputation. You knew there was no hocus-pocus going on here before you came. Did you help the police understand what they are really dealing with?”
“The evidence led the Youngstown authorities to their conclusions,” Sarah answered. “I’m only an observer.”
“No ghosts in the mist, Sarah?” the newest reporter to join the fray shouted.
Whatever possessed her at that moment, Sarah couldn’t name. “No ghosts,” she said to the reporter. “Just the devil.”
The realization of what she’d said sank in instantly. Her words fueled the frenzy.
Sarah held up her hands stop-sign fashion. “That’s it. No more questions.”
“Is it true,” blond boy persisted, “that you bribed a morgue tech for copies of the crime-scene photos?”
Conner jerked her car door open. “Get in. I’ll take care of this.”
Was that fury throbbing in his rock-hard jaw?
Sarah didn’t waste time mulling over the idea. She scooted behind the wheel, dug out her fob and tossed it on the passenger seat, and started the car.
With Deputy Karen Brighton’s assistance, Conner cleared a path for Sarah to drive away.
Okay, so now he’d rescued her twice.
That earned him a second chance. Maybe he hadn’t known about the press conference. It could have happened just as he said.
She slowed at the inn, got a glimpse of a news van in the parking lot, and opted not to turn up the drive. She decided to pay the minister a visit first.
