Jane M. Choate - High-Risk Investigation

“I took this job to make a difference in the world. This story is personal, but nothing else has changed. I’m still trying to make a difference.”

Hadn’t he said the same thing when he’d enlisted and again when he’d joined the Rangers? That he wanted to make a difference? Maybe he and Scout were more alike than he’d thought. He regarded her with new insight, saw the truth and sincerity that shone from her eyes.

Her straightforward approach to life was refreshing, yet there was a wariness about her, as though she was on guard against some danger he hadn’t identified, one that superseded even the threats.

“No? Then you’re not as smart as you look.” She’d seemed plenty scared last night and again at the docks today, but he had sense enough to keep that observation to himself.

He’d never thought she’d turn her back on the story, but he’d wanted to get a read on her. The lady reporter had more than her share of guts if what he sensed about her was true.

“Let’s go back to the beginning. When did the letters start?”

“Six weeks ago.” Pensively, she pinched the skin between her brows. “I didn’t pay much attention when they first started coming. Getting nasty-grams is part of the job.”

He doubted she was aware of her fingers kneading the narrow space above her nose. “Around the same time you started poking around union murders?”

“Yeah.”

“And you think they’re connected to Crane and garbage?” He lifted a brow. “Dirty business.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like that’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

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