Free Wild Honey by Veronica Sattler Page A

day-to-day. Which was why the look in his eyes now stopped Jason short.
    “How important?” he found himself asking.
    Travis sighed. Hooking the chair across from Jason’s desk with his foot, he swung it out and dropped into it. “This’ll take a bit,” he said. He motioned for Jason to sit, much as if their roles were reversed and it was Travis’s office.
    Jason snorted, but sat.
    “What I’m about to tell, ol’ buddy, stops here, okay?” Travis indicated the confines of Jason’s office. “I mean, I want it treated like it’s classified.”
    “You’ve got it,” Jason said.
    And then Travis told him—about the night in Cambridge, about a nurse at Johns Hopkins who’d looked familiar, and finally about a little boy with blond curls.
    “And I need to find out about them, Jace,” he finished with an intensity few ever saw. “I can’t just ignore it. The kid’s almost assuredly my own flesh and blood. My son.”
    Jason pursed his lips and whistled softly. When Travis decided to get deep-down, he didn’t mess around.
    “Travis…” Jason began slowly, focusing on a paperweight he toyed with on his desk as he gathered his thoughts. He tried to put himself in Travis’s shoes: what would he do, faced with such a thing? And what a thing! What an incredible helluva thing! “Let’s say I…I look the other way while you do this.” He met Travis’s eyes. “What then? Where do you go from there?”
    “I’m not sure. I s’pose that depends on what I find out. And I’m gonna find out, Jace, make no mistake about that.”Travis’s gaze was resolute. “If not through our files here, I’ll do it the hard way.” He shrugged. “It’ll just take me longer, that’s all.”
    Jason shook his head and gave a sardonic half smile.. “And I just gave you a month’s leave,” he said disgustedly:
    “Uh-huh.” Travis flashed the familiar roguish grin and stood, the movement all catlike grace, despite his size.
    “Wish me luck, ol’ buddy,” he drawled. He gave Jason a flippant two-fingered salute and headed for the door.
    “Now, wait a minute, McLean!” his superior growled. “Did I say…”
    But Travis was already out the door. Muttering something about cocky Southern bastards, Jason sighed and returned to his paperwork.
    F ROM THE BACK of her Jeep Cherokee, Randi hauled out the last of the bags she’d packed. Matt was in the open doorway of their rental cottage dancing with excitement. He’d already changed into the new swim trunks she’d bought him. Since Matt’s suitcase had been the first she’d unloaded, he was way ahead of her. Randi grinned as she approached him. “Ready for the beach, huh?”
    “Yeah! Can we go now, Mom? Can we?” Matt looked at the dunes visible beyond the Jeep, then back at his mother. “It’s awful sweaty here, y’know!”
    Randi chuckled as he followed her inside. “That’s because this place was all closed up, sweetheart.” The air in the five rooms had been stifling, and opening windows had been the first thing she’d done; already she could feel the fresh ocean breeze sweeping through the cottage.
    “Besides,” she added as she headed for the bedroom that Matt would occupy, “you might want to check out a couple of the things in this bag.” She set the bag down beside one of a pair of twin beds, and Matt tore into it.
    “Barney! Yippee!” The four-year-old pulled out a pillowcase decorated with a magenta dinosaur and waved it at her. “Thanks, Mom!” He began singing the Barney song as he dug through the rest of the bag.
    It contained beach towels and Matt’s sheets and pillowcases from home. The cottage came furnished with linens and towels, but she knew Matt preferred sleeping between sheets decorated with Barney, his favorite TV personality.
    “You bet, son,” she murmured, then went to her own room to change into her swimsuit.
    The sweetly sung lyrics followed her out the door, and when she reached the other bedroom, she paused and