Dead bodies and cars filled with bullet holes weren't anything new to Garth. As an FBI agent, especially one that often went undercover, he'd seen or heard almost everything. But as he paced the floor, replaying the morning phone call from Crissy in his mind, he felt unsettled and worried for the young reporter. He'd recognized that adrenaline rush in here at the bar last night. She was riding high on her unfamiliar success, and no one could blame her, but even seasoned people like himself were cautious when facing the unknown.  

Her initial fear of not knowing her exact location and finding the car in the ravine had generated through the phone line. He'd sensed her vulnerability and relief when the sheriff's car came into sight. Yet, the investigative reporter side of her was still chomping at the bit for a story, not heeding common sense and the signs of danger.  

After refilling his coffee, Garth stood staring out the hotel room, A layer of fog capped the buildings, and the mountains were hidden from view. They'd successfully closed a case, and the team would return to Washington D.C. for a few days of well-earned R and R. Yet, Crissy's frantic phone call kept playing through his head. 

He looked at this watch. It had been over an hour since the first call. He'd tried her cell twice, but she hadn't answered. To Garth, that spelled trouble, either of her own making or someone else's. The answer didn't matter because either way, Crissy needed help.  

A knock at the door broke his chain of thought.  

"It's unlocked." A smile tugged at the corner of Garth's mouth as he watched his right-hand man shuffle through the door. "Good morning, Tango." He quickly poured another cup of the steamy brew and handed it to his friend and colleague. "I take it you didn't sleep well?"

Unceremoniously, Tango dropped into the nearest chair, rubbing his eyes. "More like I didn't sleep at all."

Garth already suspected that a few younger members of his team hadn't called it a night after their bull session and had considered it their duty to make their final rounds of Nashville's honky-tonk establishments. Of course, Tango didn't fill the physical requirement of being younger, but his desire to relive his youth made up for it. "Late night on the town?"

Garth chuckled. "When are you going to get it into that thick head of yours that we aren't spring chickens anymore, my friend? The days of carousing and raising hell are in the past."

"Don't be playing mother hen with me, Garth." Tango gulped down the coffee and raised his empty cup toward his boss. "If you must, do me the favor of filling this empty reservoir with that lovely steamy brew." Tango ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair. "I need a haircut."

"Yes, you do, but you need to lay off the tequila and late hours." Garth handed Tango the coffee and waited for the caffeine to put life back into his best agent. "Remember that young reporter that joined us last night? She was my morning wake-up call."

Tango's eyes flew wide open as they darted around the room, looking for evidence. His unspoken thoughts hung in his gaping mouth. "Crissy was here —" Tango shook his head to clear the lingering brain fog. "But, Boss, you're twice her age."

"I'd take offense to that remark, but I have more important things on my mind at the moment. Get your mind out of the gutter, and I'll rephrase." Garth laughed at the expression on the other agent's face. "Her phone call woke me from a deep sleep early this morning. She was in a bit of a panic."

Tango read the concern in his boss's voice, and he donned his official capacity instantly. "Panicked? What about?"

"It seems she chose the early morning hours to start her journey out of town. She lost track of her exact location, and then a car side-swiped her, and she skidded off the road.."

"Was she hurt?"

Garth shook his head. "It didn't sound like it. She was just distraught because her dog —"

Tango sighed. "Don't tell me she had one of your business cards and called you for help. I'm so sorry, boss. I keep telling the team to watch who they give those cards to."

"Tango, can you be quiet for a minute? The caffeine appears to be headed into overdrive. So let me tell you what I know about the phone call."

"Sorry. Boss."

"From what she said, she let her dog out of the car so they could stretch their legs and calm down before getting back on the road."

"Sounds sensible, but why call —"

Garth held his finger to his lips, silencing Tango's caffeine high. "Her dog found a car in the ravine. According to our girl, the vehicle was filled with bullet holes."

"Wow! I see why she panicked, but why not call the local authorities?"

"Because she had no idea where she was. I asked about road signs, but she didn't see one. Fortunately, the local sheriff arrived on the scene unexpectedly, and she hung up."

"Okay, that sounds like a good ending to her story."

"It would be, except she promised to call me back. She hasn't, and I've tried to reach her twice with no luck."

"So, the sheriff rode in on his mighty stead and rescued the damsel. End of story. It's not like you to get so involved in something so trivial."

"Maybe I am mellowing. I don't know, but something in my gut tells me she's not the type to make a frantic early call and then not check back with me. Rescued or not, it isn't sitting right."

"We don't even know where she's at, do we? Maybe she's driving and figures she'll call you later. After all, it was early."

"Humor me, Tango. Check with the newspaper and see if they can tell you anything about her car and where she is headed. Then, put a BOLO out on it. Oh, yeah, have Poppa call Washington and see if there's any chatter about a gang war brewing around here. A bullet-riddled car can't be the norm for a small town in the Smokies."

Tango stood and walked quickly toward the door. "I'm on it, boss." Then, as he opened the door, he added, "Remember, we're supposed to be on a plane in two hours."

"Then don't waste your time talking to me. Get on it!"

Tango closed the door, and his boss checked his watch. "Okay, young lady, I'll give you fifteen more minutes, and then I'm calling you again." Garth shook his head. "Maybe the guys are right. I just might be turning into a mother hen."