Allie latched on to his mistake. “I didn’t make you a star. You did. Your personality and your brains and your talent.”

“We did.” He looked at her then. “We did it together.”

Allie closed her eyes because it hurt too much to look at him. “Don’t. It’s over. You’re leaving.”

“No, I’m not,” he told her. “I can’t. I can’t leave you. I love you. I can leave Tuttle, but I can’t leave you. I don’t ever want to spend another day without you.” He leaned toward her, and his voice was taut. “I was going to leave this whole mess behind. I got in the car to go, and then I just sat there and thought, ‘Where the hell am I going?’ Because without you, there isn’t anyplace else to go. You’re all there is.”

All the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Allie felt pain in her chest and heat behind her eyelids where tears pressed, and she couldn’t move from all the emotion that was choking her.

When she didn’t say anything, Charlie added, “Say something, please. I’m dying here.”

She tried to suck some air into her lungs. She was having trouble breathing. And speaking. “I…” The words died.

Charlie took her hand. “I love you, Al. It’s not about sex or the bet or the show. I love you. I don’t know, with what I’ve done, if that’s enough, but I do love you.”

“It’s enough,” she said, and her voice broke. “It’s enough.” She swallowed. “I’m really mad at you, and I hate what you’re doing to Grady…”

“I know.”

“But I love you,” she said, and as she said it, any doubts she had disappeared forever. “I love you so much sometimes I get dizzy when I look at you. I feel good when I’m with you. I feel right. I think you’re wrong here, but I don’t think I could stand life without you.”

He bent to kiss her, and she held her breath and felt his lips on hers, warm and gentle and everything he was, and she kissed him then, with all the love she had for him, memorizing him, breathing with him as his mouth grew hot on hers.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he said against her lips, and she almost laughed because she wasn’t the one with the need to leave, but then the chanting on the radio stopped and Grady’s voice broke in.

“This will be my last show for a while, Tuttle,” he said, and they both turned to listen to him, their heads close. “I’ve been breaking the law, and tomorrow morning, I’m turning myself in. I had a long talk with a friend tonight, and he pointed out that the law is a fine thing, even when it’s wrong. It’s the only defense we have against anarchy, against the strong overwhelming the weak. And if it’s wrong, well, then it’s our job to change it. I’ve been giving away marijuana to chemotherapy patients because it helps them withstand the nausea the treatments cause, but it’s against the law. I think it’s time this law was changed, and tonight’s the only night I have left to talk about it before I go to jail. If you’re listening and you have an opinion, call in. The number is-”

“Grady is the only person I know who could make his arrest a call-in topic,” Allie said when she’d recovered her voice. “What do you suppose he’s been doing for the past hour while all that music played?”

Charlie let go of her. “He’s been talking to his father,” he said. “I called Bill and told him.”

Allie sat up. “You what?”

Charlie sighed. “I called Bill and told him that Grady was doing something important that had probably saved Beattie’s life, and that now it was Bill’s turn to stick his neck out. He yelled a lot, but I think he saw the light at the end. I think he’s going to fight for Grady. When I hung up, he was making a plan. If nothing else, it should be interesting to see what happens next.” He picked up the chicken carton from the table in front of them and began to eat, and when Allie stole a look at him, he looked almost relaxed.

All right. It wouldn’t have been her way of handling it, but at least he was handling it. Getting involved. And he might just be right. “I bet Bill’s not the only one making a plan,” she told him, picking up the potstickers. “I bet Beattie’s working on a beaut.”

“You should have gotten more food,” Charlie said. “This chicken is going to be gone in no time.”

They sat close on the couch and finished the chicken and the potstickers while they listened to Grady and his callers, all of whom seemed ready to march on city hall to spring him if necessary. Of course, they were all Grady’s callers, and anyone who would listen to Grady at three in the morning was already fanatically loyal, but it did reassure Allie. Even more reassuring was having Charlie near. She finally fell asleep on Charlie’s shoulder while he listened to Grady’s show, and she didn’t wake up until he shook her at five-thirty. “Come on,” he told her softly. “Let’s go back in and see if Grady needs help after the show.”

10

The station was crowded when they got there at five forty-five. The lobby teemed with two TV crews, print journalists, the sheriff, a grim Bill and Beattie and a bemused Mark.

“What is this?” Mark caught Allie’s arm as she came through the door behind Charlie. Charlie looked back and rolled his eyes at Mark, but he kept on going into the station hallway. “What’s all the publicity for?” Mark asked. “What did Charlie do now?”

“Nothing.” Allie pulled her arm away. “Grady confessed to giving away marijuana to cancer patients. He’s going to be arrested.”

Mark got a faraway look in his eye. Probably planning on confessing to possession of oregano. How anyone could get that caught up in a career-

She stopped. Thank God for Charlie. If it hadn’t been for him, she’d still be with Mark. In fact, she’d probably be Mark.

“I’ve got to go,” she told Mark and went into the station to find Charlie and thank him.


* * *

She found him in the booth with Grady.

“There’s quite a crowd in the lobby,” Charlie was telling him. “Anything I can do? Whatever you want, you got it.”

“Nope.” Grady leaned back in his chair, Sam on his lap happily chewing on the sleeve of Grady’s sweatshirt. “I’ve got ten minutes of Hildegarde of Bingen on now, and then I’ll say my goodbyes and go to jail.”

“Oh, Grady,” Allie sat down on the floor of the booth. “I still wish you hadn’t said anything. We could have-”

“No, this is going to be great.” Grady’s voice sounded so self-satisfied that Allie jerked her head up to see if could possibly be that happy.

He was.

“This is exactly the forum we need,” Grady told her. “We need to get this stuff legalized for medical treatment. Now we have a cause. They’re going to have to arrest me and my mother and probably a half-dozen cancer patients. Think of the publicity when Mrs. Winthrop goes to jail. Your celibate bet made the tri-state news. This will have to go national.”

Allie went back to the part that scared her the most. “Grady, you’re going to jail.”

Grady grinned at her. “Not for long. You don’t know my dad. Hell, I didn’t know my dad. He yelled at first, but he had a plan worked out, and then Mom got on the other line, and by the time she was finished, he was ready to run me for governor. He’s all gung ho, getting lawyers and filing motions and calling the press. He says there’s bail and appeals and no end of lawyer red tape he can throw at them to keep me out. And the whole time, Mom and I will be giving interviews, making statements…” He trailed off as his grin widened. “I bet Dad will even let me keep my show once he gets over the shock.”

“He’s over it now,” Charlie told him from where he was leaning on the side of the boom. “He’s arguing with the sheriff in front of the TV cameras. This is going to be a circus.”

Grady leaned back in his chair. “This is great.”

Allie stood up, suddenly reassured. “No, it’s not, but I’ll help, anyway.” She started out of the booth, and Charlie caught her arm.

“What are you doing?”

Allie smiled at him, buoyed by Grady’s optimism and the fact that Charlie was touching her again. “You know all those people I was going to call to try to stop your drug story? They work both ways. I’ll have Grady on the national news by tomorrow.”

“Oh, right,” Charlie snorted. “Even you-”

Allie stopped him in midsentence. “Want to bet?”

“No.” Charlie shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m not betting anything with you ever again.”

“That’s what I thought,” Allie said and left the booth to make some phone calls.


* * *

Three hours later, Grady had been arrested and bailed out, and Charlie was alone with Bill in his office.

“Things didn’t turn out quite the way I’d planned,” Charlie told him.

Bill sighed and sat heavily in his chair. “The two of them. Running a charity drug ring. And now they’re in hog heaven, and the poor old sheriff has to go through the motions. If they’d kept their damn mouths shut…”

“At least now you know,” Charlie said. “The anonymous-letter mystery’s over.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m real glad about that.” Bill leaned back in his chair and glared at him. “So I guess this means you’re leaving.”

“Nope,” Charlie said. “I’m staying. You can tell my dad he won.”

Bill started and then tried to look innocent. “What’s your dad got to do with this?”

Charlie shook his head. “Forget it. I figured it out a while back. You called Dad and told him you had an anonymous letter, and he told you he wanted me settled down and you cooked this up together. Favor for an old friend, right? You didn’t give a damn about that letter.”

“I told him I couldn’t make you stay if you didn’t want to.” Bill scowled at him. “Then you went and made yourself a hit. And me some money. It’s your fault.”