drawer. Neatly labeled colored folders lined the hanging file frame. Rachel had always had an amazing work ethic—driven to the brink of obsession, actually. Had it gotten her killed?
No. Kelly shook her head. That thought came solely from the ramblings of the woman in the grocery store. Her words had no basis in reality.
Refocusing her attention, Kelly pulled a file labeled Outstanding Queries and spread it open on the desk. In alphabetical order by target market, the letters ranged from one for Family Circle to one for the Washington Post.
Kelly turned back to the drawer, fingering through the remaining folders. Working articles. Someone needed to tell these editors their articles weren’t going to make deadline.
One by one, Kelly pulled each contact number and placed the call. An hour later she was done, returning each folder to its place in the drawer.
A knock sounded at the front door and she jumped, her stomach tilting sideways. Chicken. The woman in the grocery store had made more of an impression than she cared to admit.
She padded down the hall and pulled open the inner door. Dan Steele stood on the other side of the locked screen door, leaning against the doorjamb, the sharp line of his jaw set with even more intensity than it had been the day before. Shadows tinged the skin beneath his eyes, but the blue heat of his gaze coiled Kelly’s stomach into a tight knot.
“You again.” She frowned.
He held up his hands. “Let’s start over.”
She narrowed her eyes.
He swept one arm in a grand gesture. “Welcome to North Carolina.”
Kelly glared at him, not sure how to answer his statement. “Back for another look?”
His features tensed, his expression growing serious. “Actually, yes.”
“Forget it.” Kelly moved to close the door.
Dan leaned his forehead against the screen. He might look like an expectant child with his face plastered against an ice-cream parlor window, but Kelly knew better.
“It’s imperative I explain something to you about Rachel.”
Kelly eyed him carefully, her curiosity getting the best of her. “Like what?”
“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”
“I can hear you just fine through that locked door.”
She met his stare, angling her chin determinedly.
“Fair enough.” He straightened.
He stood easily taller than six feet, his presence commanding. His brown hair tumbled carelessly, as if he had just run a strong hand through the short strands. Kelly’s gaze followed the drape of his navy sweatshirt to the trim fit of his khaki shorts. Her pulse quickened at the sight of his bare, muscular legs. One thing was for certain. The man was in some serious physical shape.
The breeze picked up, washing Dan’s clean scent past her into the house. Every one of Kelly’s nerve endings snapped to attention. She hugged herself, glad to have the door between her stirring attraction and the man who’d inspired the unwanted response.
The last man who’d evoked such a visceral reaction had turned out to be anything but what he’d first seemed. She had no intention of repeating the mistake.
“I need you to listen carefully.”
The ferocity of Dan’s gaze startled her, capturing her full attention. “I’m listening.”
“I met Rachel when she interviewed me about my sister.”
“Your sister?”
Dan nodded. “She died of a drug overdose last year, and Rachel was doing a piece on the same drug. Oxygesic.”
A momentary shadow passed across his face, but he continued, “My sister was an athlete. She’d never take that drug knowingly.”
Kelly said nothing, riveted by the man on the other side of the door.
“I need Rachel’s notes.” He stepped close to the screen, erasing any space between them. “You need to let me search this house.”
She considered his request, scouring his face for any sign he might be lying. She found none. “I already went through her files.”
Dan’s eyes widened.
Kelly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing on Oxy…Oxy…”
“Oxygesic.” Disappointment darkened his gaze. “That makes no sense. A friend of hers died high on the stuff. Crashed a car into a pole. Rachel was obsessed with that story.”
“What kind of drug is it?”
Hope flickered across his features. “A time-released opiate.”
“Opiate?”
“Painkiller.”
Kelly blinked, confused. “Did her friend take too many?”
“Maybe not.” Dan stared deeply into her eyes, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. “Sometimes it only takes one.”
Kelly took a step back, wanting to put a bit of distance between her and this man’s determination. “Is it a controlled substance?”
He nodded, his expression grim. “It’s not difficult to get illegally, unfortunately.”
“How?”
“Sometimes it’s a crooked doctor writing phony prescriptions.” Anger flashed through his eyes. “Sometimes it’s a crooked pharmacist.”
It was evident Dan had decided on the latter. “You think it’s a pharmacist?”
“Guy named Miller.”
“How would he get away with it?”
His voice dropped low, intense. “That’s what I need to find out.”
Thoughts and questions raced through Kelly’s mind. “I’m still not understanding how this drug can kill someone unless they take too many.”
Dan’s gaze wavered momentarily as if he wasn’t quite ready to answer her question. When he spoke again, he did so slowly.
“The drug is time-released, meant to be swallowed. If you chew the tablet, you experience a rush. Some people stop breathing.”
“Like your sister?”
“Supposedly. The coroner said her heart failed while she was swimming. The Oxygesic was already in her system.”
“And you don’t believe it?”
“Call it a brother’s hunch, but no.” His gaze roamed her face, trailing hot paths across her skin
