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investigative story now…”
    The detective threw in another plea. “If you liked this Wentworth guy, don’t let his death be for nothing.”
    Zack watched those words resonate with Samantha, and his stomach sank when he saw the instant she made up her mind. Her chin jutted out, and she opened her mouth to say something—just as her skinny photographer charged up to them.
    “Hey, you gonna answer your damn phone, or what?” the kid groused. “’Cause I’m sick of Stan calling my ass and telling me he’s going to fire you if you don’t pick up.”
    Samantha whipped around and threw both hands up. “Tell Stan I’m working the damn story. Okay?”
    “I think maybe you should have been working that damn live shot earlier.” He made a face. “Shit, I’ll call him but—”
    “Tell him I just found out Maxwell may have been murdered, and I have exclusive inside information I’m working. I’ll call him back when I can.”
    The cameraman gawked at her as if she’d gone crazy, his eyes as wild as his messy red hair. “What the hell are you talking about?” He glanced over at the detective, at Zack, then back at Samantha. “You serious? That’s some shit, if you are.”
    “We’re still going on this adventure vacation, George, but it’s no longer just a fluff feature. Tell the boss we’re bringing him back an investigative piece. If he still gives us the two weeks, he won’t be sorry.”
    The camera guy’s shoulder’s dropped, but he nodded. “He’s still going to wanna talk to you. He’s fucking pissed.”
    She put her hand together as if in prayer. “Put him off. Just for now. Please.” She pulled off a smile. George shrugged and stomped off.
    Fabulous .
    Zack could not believe his bad luck. Now, not only would he have to deal with keeping his cover intact with the adventure company and evading a killer’s notice, he’d also have to keep a nosy reporter and her too-observant cameraman from asking dangerous questions, stirring up suspicion, and broadcasting rumors and allegations on the evening news. He must have made a sound of disgust because both Samantha and the detective were now staring at him.
    After an uncomfortable moment of silence Johnson pocketed his notebook. “You’ve got my number, Sam. Keep in close touch with me on this.” The confident smile on his face irritated Zack, but he took the business card the detective also handed to him. “Both of you, call me with any new information you come up with. Anytime, day or night.”
    But Johnson’s narrowed look told him he still distrusted Zack.
    Samantha nodded, but pressed a hand against her stomach as the homicide investigator sauntered back to the viewing deck.
    Instantly, a wave of guilt slammed into Zack.
    Suddenly, she whipped around to face him, suspicion coloring her expression. Her unexpected move, and the heat of her gaze, was enough to make him take a step back.
    “I know you’re not a local cop because if you were, Stuart would have recognized you.”
    Startled by the accusatory tone of her voice, he stuttered, “I— N-no, I’m not. Why on earth would you think that?”
    “I guess you could be just another guy with too much time and money who can afford this kind of crazy vacation. But I think there’s more to your story. You think there’s something funny going on, and you’re here to investigate. Aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more like an accusation.
    She was trying to bait him, too. She couldn’t possibly know his reason for being here. He bit his lip to keep from delivering a smart-ass reply. It didn’t work. “And you think I’m willing to pay twenty-five grand to investigate some random hunch? You’re nuts.” Or too smart for her own good…
    She tipped her head considering. “Maybe not so random.”
    He curled his lip. “And your reporter’s instinct is always right, is it?”
    Her steely brown eyes shot ice bullets at him. “I want to look into Maxwell’s death as well, and