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just misguided. ”
    She checked the time. Five minutes remained before she should leave for the editors ’ news meeting. She needed to wrap it up with a message that might inspire them. But she still felt rattled.
    “ Guys, I ’ m proud of what you ’ re doing on your projects. ” She looked around the table at each of them. “ I know that it ’ s hard keeping up with your beats. But we all know that just feeding the daily beast isn ’ t satisfying. You need to feed your soul with a great story. ”
    “ You sound awfully serious, ” Brandon said. “ Know something you ’ re not telling us? ”
    She hesitated before speaking, but decided nothing would be gained by pussyfooting. She always tried to be honest with them.
    “ The usual. The paper ’ s had another awful quarter. There may be more budget cutting ahead. I hope our jobs are safe – for now. ”
    “ Doesn ’ t sound very promising, ” Maggie said, buffing a fingernail with an emery board she ’ d pulled from her designer purse.
    “ I can ’ t lie to you, Maggie. You guys shouldn ’ t count on raises when we may get furloughs before the year ends. ”
    She stood up, picked up the platter with leftover kolaches. She searched for some reassuring words.
    “ Don ’ t feel like our glory days are behind us. Try to carve out time each day to work on your own great story. Don ’ t worry about the state of the newsroom. Just focus on your best work. ”

CHAPTER 4
     
    A few days later, Annie shook hands with State Senator Sam Wurzbach in front of Treebeards, her favorite downtown restaurant. Wurzbach, a Fredericksburg legislator who spent much of his time in Austin, had called the day before saying he ’ d be in Houston and wanted to take her to lunch. He said he was interested in her experiences reporting on the secessionist movement. She ’ d quickly said yes.
    She liked his lopsided, friendly smile. He was thin and wiry with close-cropped dark hair and a ski-jump nose. She guessed he was about 40.
    “ Great to meet you, Senator Wurzbach, ” she said, appreciating his direct gaze and firm, but not bone-crushing, handshake.
    “ Annie, please call me Sam, ” he smiled. “ I ’ ve been researching the Nation of Texas group and it sounds like you ’ re the go-to expert. ”
    “ That ’ s flattering, but probably not true, ” she said. “ My experience with the secessionists was four years ago, but I ’ m happy to talk about it. Shall we get in line first? ”
    She ’ d only had to walk a few blocks from her office to Treebeards. The Houston caf é , located beside a leafy square, served generous plates of spicy Cajun food to downtown workers at lunchtime. It was too far north of the main commercial area to attract casual visitors or tourists, but it thronged with lawyers and government workers from the courthouse complex a few blocks east.
    She and Wurzbach joined the cafeteria-style line that snaked from the outside entrance all the way to the back of the cavernous restaurant. It was a bit dark inside, but nicely appointed, with dark-green walls and rows of wooden tables and chairs.
    She rarely took time for a real lunch because it was so much easier to duck into the tunnel under the newspaper building and grab a salad or sandwich at one of the outlets underground. She could eat while she edited stories, updated budgets and dispatched paperwork that sucked time from an editor ’ s day. It was a treat to be out, even in the blazing sun, and spend an hour with someone new.
    “ Did you say you have business in town? ” Annie said. “ What brought you to Houston? ”
    “ I ’ m meeting with an old friend this afternoon, ” he said. “ It ’ s kind of a long day trip, but I ’ m driving back tonight. ”
    Annie was curious. “ Who ’ s your friend in Houston? Anybody I might know? ”
    He laughed and evaded her question.
    “ Annie, I can see why everyone says you ’ re a great reporter. But I ’ m not willing to give up all of