"So, the sheriff rode in on his mighty steed 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."

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Hank smiled as Emmy stretched and tried to catch her bearings. She twisted her head side to side, working the kinks out of her neck and shoulders. 

"Oh my gosh, Hank. I am so sorry." Emmy adjusted her blouse, brushing a few wrinkles away. "I can't believe I fell asleep." 

"Not a problem. It was night, after all, and you were tired."  

"But you've been driving all night. The sun's coming up."  

"I'm used to pulling all night shifts. When I got tied up with a lead on a cold case in Gulf Shores, I did stakeouts for days at a time." 

"But —" Emmy felt sheepish but could never have stayed awake all night. "You should have woken me up." 

"Forget it!" Hank chuckled. "Besides, you looked sweet snuggled under that blanket, and your snoring was music to my ears." 

"Snoring! I do not snore." Emmy stuck her tongue out at Hank. "How could you say such a rude thing?" 

"Sorry, partner, but you do snore. Not a loud, obnoxious kind of sound, just a gentle, soft moaning." Hank laughed and kept his eyes on the road, knowing a bright pink flush was creeping across her cheeks. 

"Oh my God, that sounds even worse. Straight out of one of your porno movies, probably." Emmy punched his bicep. "Take it back!" 

"You're quite feisty in the morning. Maybe I shouldn't share any of my coffee. You certainly don't need a caffeine rush."  

"Coffee?" Emmy spied the Starbucks cup in the drink holder, and she reached for it. "You are a lifesaver." 

Hank slapped her hand, brushing it away from his coffee cup. "Sorry, but it's spoken for." 

"You wouldn't, would you?" Emmy pretended to pout. "Is that how you get back at me for sleeping while you drove all night? That's cruel!" 

Hank couldn't contain his laughter, especially when she pushed her lower lip out further. "While you were getting your beauty sleep, I made a pit stop, bought two thermoses, and had the coffee shop fill them. If you stop insulting me, you might be able to find a cup and the coffee in the back seat." 

"What! No pastries!" Emmy's stomach growled at the thought of one of Hank's calorie-filled, decadent pastries. She searched the front seat for a bag. Regardless that she would typically criticize him for his eating habits, this morning, she was starving. Her voice was indignant. "Are you hiding them from me, or worse yet, have you eaten every crumb?" 

Emmy's morning tantrum struck Hank's funny bone, and his laughter reverberated throughout the car. "Such accusations! I, Hank Armato, would not dream of devouring food without sharing it with my lady. Well, lady might be too charitable this morning. Let me remind you that I did bring coffee for two. As for food, I thought we'd stop at a truck stop where we could eat, and you could freshen up if you so desired." 

Emmy unbuckled her seatbelt and reached into the back seat, retrieving the thermos and a cup. "The damsel in distress begs the knight's forgiveness for her rudeness. Her sleeping accommodations seem to have left her somewhat out of sorts." 

"Her sleeping accommodations?" Hank patted the steering wheel. "Don't listen to her, Baby. She has no idea of your value." 

"Baby? You call your car — Baby?" It was Emmy's turn for a hardy laugh. "Oh, Hank, you never cease to amaze me." Before Hank could respond, 'Take this job and shove it' filtered through Emmy's shirt pocket from her cell. "O-M-G, it's the chief." 

"Don't answer it. It's your day off."  

"Are you crazy? One does not ignore a call from the Chief — ever." Emmy pulled her cell out of her pocket, took a deep breath, and answered. "Chief? What's up? Kind of early on a Saturday for you to be calling to chat." She rolled her eyes at Hank and the way he was mimicking her. "You do know I have the weekend off, right?" 

"You forget who you are talking to, Emmy. Not much gets by me, especially after running into Mary Beth last night." 

"Mary Beth? How — how nice."  

"Yes, it was. She might have mentioned she was house-sitting your plants while you were out of town. Something about a road trip with lover boy. The Smokey Mountains, I think." 

Emmy's eyes widened as she exclaimed, "Loverboy!" She made an obnoxious face at Hank and his chuckling. "He's my partner." 

"Oh, so you are with Hank. Mary Beth refused to tell me who you were with, but I guess the cat is out of the bag now." 

Emmy groaned silently, unable to respond to her boss. 

"Emmy, are you still there, or is Hank distracting you from my phone call? Or maybe he's not awake yet? Still snuggled under the sheets?" 

"Okay, Chief, you've made your point. I did not mention the road trip, and Hank is currently driving behind the wheel of his car." 

"Great! Because this is not a social call. An officer — Terry Smythe, he's been with the force a long time. He lost his life in an auto accident last night. He doesn't have a family except a fellow officer living in Smythe's Kentucky hometown." The Chief enjoyed getting under Emmy's skin, so he added, "That is the direction you're headed, right? Or was the trip just a ruse to hide a little monkey business?" 

"There's no monkey business going on, so you can stop with the suggestions if you don't mind." Emmy was used to the Chief's teasing her about guys, but his remarks were brutal this morning. 

"Just a friendly reminder, the Smokey Mountains and Trenton, Tennessee, are not in our jurisdiction if I recall. Following a cold case on your own time is admiral, but you step on any toes, and it might be big trouble." 

"Trenton, Tennessee. Remind me not to share anything with Mary Beth again. I hadn't realized she was becoming such a blabbermouth." 

"Oh, be nice. Tommy and Mary Beth were celebrating, and she'd had more than her share of champagne." The Chief paused to read a note his assistant was handing him. A scowl crossed his face, and then he spoke into the phone, "Emmy, the courtesy call to Wyatt Tucker about Smythe just turned into something bigger. Crime lab says a man left a frantic message on Smythe's cell last night. It says, 'We gotta talk. I've got the girl.' They tracked the number to Tucker." 

"That's not a typical 'how are you doing message,' now is it?" The wheels in Emmy's brain were spinning. 

"Definitely, not. I'll have the details texted to you. You and Hank need to pay a visit to the sheriff and Deputy Tucker." A pregnant pause hung in the air before the Chief continued, "I don't need to remind you this is a touchy situation, do I? It's a very small town, and we're talking about two homegrown boys. It could get dicey." 

"Understood. Send me our destination, and I'll fill Hank in on the details." 

"Emmy, you be careful, okay? Loverboy or not, I want you back in your office in one piece. Tell Hank to mind his manners." 

"Will do." The call disconnected, and Emmy sighed, "Remind me why I love my job."