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term ramifications might be. Other than riparian die-offs, which we are already seeing.”
    New York? Ryan would have to get familiar with the geology and underground water systems there. That should keep him occupied for a while. Might be interesting to see what impacts the climate shift is having on the North East. “Sounds good. If you can get me in—”
    “ If? Remember who you’re talking to, kid. I’ve got the magic touch. You might as well start heading that way. And Ryan?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Be careful out there. Things are getting a little crazy. And avoid the south. Between floods and tornados, it’s a powder keg.”
    “Have they started relocating the towns in the flood plains yet?”
    “They’re doing a test run with a small town in Arkansas. See how cost effective they can make it. But, people are crazy. Most of the town is refusing to budge. Even with a Presidential Order. That very same town has been flooded three times, and the cracker jacks are refusing to leave it.”
    “Well, it can be hard to let go of what you know.” Ryan disconnected and slipped out of the room. Even if Mel’s leaving didn’t have anything to do with protecting them, if her cheese really had started slipping off her cracker, it drove one very important point home to him. Nothing else mattered right now. Baby Eve was his priority.
    Ryan stopped halfway down the hall to the kitchen. He hadn’t told Marcus about Eve. No one knew they had a child. Not even their closest family. A more proud papa could not be found anywhere and under normal circumstances, it would have been the first thing out of his mouth. So why didn’t he tell Marcus?
    Because of Mel.
    Eve had been a home birth. Here in the country, away from civilization. Mel had assured him her birth had been recorded. Ryan thought of her message and wondered if that were true. He would do a little research, but he wasn’t taking any chances. If he had to play the part of the unfaithful husband; if Eve had to be an illegitimate love child – if it kept her safe, they would be.
    At least until he knew for sure what in the name of Einstein, Mel was up to.

9
     
    Forty-five minutes south of Las Vegas, Mel pulled into a small no-stoplight town that bore the ironic name of Searchlight. After topping off her gas tank, she pulled to the side of a building, where a plastic cowboy sat on the roof overlooking the back door. Rusted-out Ford pickups, and one Pinto that only a junkyard could make look good, sat near the front doors.
    The flashing lights and gaudy sign did little to illuminate the walk beneath, making it look more like an abandoned old west attraction than a casino. At four-thirty in the morning, the place was empty except for a few grizzled old drunks and a man who could have been the poster child for Sturgis’ biker rally, standing behind the bar.
    Earlier that morning, Tom had given her explicit orders while she sat on her porch drinking coffee, which stool to sit on at the bar, what to order. Instead of following his instructions, she walked around to the back of the room, skirting slot machines, cowboy and saloon girl mannequins, and dime-store Indians.
    The store side of the building was even quieter than the bar and casino. A tall brunette stocked the shelves and the doors to the McDonald’s were closed. Enough illumination filtered through the glass doors of the fast food joint, to see that it was still too early for the first shift staff to prep for opening.
    Mel hated this cloak and dagger stuff. Give her hairpin turns at Mach 2 and she was a happy little girl. Make her deal with people, especially people she didn’t know, and she was all hot nerves and inadequacies, both real and imagined. It was hard to feel confident when you had to crane your neck back to make eye contact with everyone you spoke to.
    Add in the fact that the men she was supposed to meet were here to protect her, and you had a recipe for insecurity. Mel needed a minute to screw up her