Crissy dialed and waited. Relief washed over her as she heard a man's groggy voice answer the phone. She'd forgotten it was dawn. She couldn't contain her thoughts as she yelled to Brandi, "Here comes the cavalry, girl." 

"Cavalry? Can't help you, only got a few wild stallions working for me." Having been abruptly yanked from a strange dream, Garth mistook the early morning call as a prank from one of his agents. It had been a very late night, and he was running on fumes. "Maybe you should try another number? I hear the Director appreciates these calls."  

"No, please don't hang up." Frantic, Crissy screamed into the phone. "I'm on the side of the road, and there's a bullet-riddled car at the bottom of the ravine. I need help." 

Garth swung his legs off the bed as he heard her fearful cry for help. Fully alert, his instincts kicked into high gear. "Where are you?"

The aroma of freshly brewing coffee drifted past Garth's nose. He glanced across the hotel room and smiled at the programmed coffee machine, a welcomed sight. 

He mentally thanked his assistant for setting up the coffeemaker at the end of their 'bull session' last night. Ensuring all the I's were dotted and the T's crossed on the case was as important as solving it. 

"Hello — Oh gosh, you didn't hang up, did you?" The distraught female voice at the other end of the call brought the FBI agent back to the task at hand. 

"You're talking to a federal officer, young lady, so this better not be a joke." Garth still wondered if one of his agents thought waking their boss was a fantastic prank. It wasn't beneath a few of them when they'd closed a tough case.  

"No, listen. My name is Crissy Loggins. I'm a reporter for the Tennessean in Nashville, and I just helped solve the gentleman rapist case. I met you and your crew last week at a bar. It's okay if you don't remember me, but I really need some help." 

"My apologies. Of course, I remember you." Garth strolled across the room and poured coffee into one of the mugs. "You caught me before my morning jolt of caffeine. What's going on?" 

"I'm headed to Lexington on Highway 68 to see family. This car came out of nowhere and almost side-swiped my car as it sped past. It caught me off guard, and I skidded onto the side of the road." Crissy paused, remembering how terrified she felt, and inhaled sharply. "Brandi and I got out of the car and she disappeared down the ravine." 

"Brandi? So, someone else is traveling with you?"  

"Not exactly. Brandi is my golden retriever. She's the one who found the car. Her barking alerted me. I rushed to the other side of the road and saw the car. It's been riddled with bullets, like a machine gun. There's lots of muddy footprints and debris everywhere." 

"Did you call the local authorities? They can get to you much faster than myself or my team."  

Crissy sighed and then answered, "That's the thing. I was cruising down the road, harmonizing with a song on the radio, and I —" She hesitated, knowing her next thought wasn't a good one. "I have no idea where I am except on Highway 68. It's early, and I haven't seen any cars except the idiot who tried to run me off the road." 

"Any billboards or other road signs around?"  

"No, just a lot of pine trees, the ravine, and muddy water." Crissy stepped back onto the highway and spun around, searching for any type of landmark.  

She squinted down the blacktop road and gasped. "Hey, I think I'm about to be rescued. It looks like there's a car headed toward me." 

Crissy waved her arm in the air so the driver would see her. As the vehicle drew closer, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. "Garth, it's a sheriff's car. Thank God." 

Garth smiled. "The damsel in distress is rescued. Call me back later, okay? I want a follow-up on what's actually happening there."  

"I'm investigating a story, thank you." Crissy didn't like being classified as a helpless female, even if at the moment she had been. "The situation is under control, but I'd be happy to get back to you later." 

Garth could sense the change in his caller. She'd changed hats from being frightened to the one who wanted the story. He chuckled as he hung up the phone and took a long drink of coffee. He admired her spunk! 

***************************************** 

The Sheriff's car approached the area where Crissy was standing, stopping in the middle of the road. After turning on the flashing red and blue lights, the driver got out of the car. 

"Good morning, young lady. Kind of early to be out on the highway alone. Got car trouble?" 

"Not exactly. You need to see —" 

Hearing voices, Brandi chose that moment to race up the side of the ravine, barking and jumping at their unknown visitor. Her muddy paws slid down the officer's pant leg as he frantically tried to push her away. 

"Get off of me, dog." He glared at Crissy. "Can't you control the animal?" 

"Brandi, stop!" Crissy yelled at her dog and then, bristling at his tone, she turned to the distressed officer. "I'm sorry, Sheriff. She's confused and excited about —" 

"I don't care if the dog's excited. Use a leash if you can't control your dog." The man tried to brush the caked mud from his trouser leg. "And I'm not the sheriff. It's Deputy Wyatt Tucker." 

"But your car —" 

"I'm the deputy on duty." He moved toward the side of the road, motioning Crissy to follow. "How about you show me what's got your dog all worked up?" 

Crissy moved toward the edge of the ravine, following close behind the deputy. Brandi raced down the hill again, circling the car. 

"Holy Mother of —" The deputy removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's the car." The whites of his eyes widened beneath his raised eyebrows, and his lips thinned and compressed. "It's — it's full of bullet holes." Deputy Tucker struggled as he processed the scene below. 

Crissy was forming an immediate dislike for the officer, and she couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "That's what Brandi and I have been trying to tell you. My dog discovered the car after someone almost ran us off the road." 

Deputy Tucker stepped back and glanced down the road in both directions. He kept swallowing and running his fingers through his thick black hair. After a few strained moments, he returned his hat to his head, and with as much force as he could muster, he spoke to Crissy. "You need to get back into your car, miss. This is official police business, and I'll take it from here." 

"But —" Crissy didn't understand exactly what was happening, but she knew she recognized fear in the deputy's facial expressions.  

"No buts about it! Don't know where you're from, but we don't take kindly to civilians getting in our way of an investigation." Wyatt Tucker crossed the road and opened Crissy's car door. "It's for your safety, ma'am. I got this under control, and you need to continue down the road to wherever you're headed this morning." 

The deputy reached for Chrissy's arm, but she side-stepped his hand. A low growl came from behind her. "Brandi, no. Get in the car." She moved around the officer, not taking her eyes off him, and pointed toward the front seat. "Let's go, girl." 

Brandi jumped onto the front seat with Crissy following close behind. Deputy Tucker slammed the car door as she glared out the window at him. 

"You take care now, Miss. Thanks for all your help." 

Crissy turned the key and put the car in gear as soon as the engine turned over. "Something tells me Deputy Tucker knows more about that car than he's saying." She patted her co-pilot's head. "I smell a story brewing." 

As Crissy's car disappeared down the road, Tucker punched a number into his phone. When the man at the other end of the line answered, the deputy stammered, "We've — we've got — big trouble out here, Smythe. Mighty big trouble."