The first thought that struck her as she opened her eyes the next morning...was that Peyton was coming with her to Savannah. Of course, her sister changed her mind as often as the wind changed directions, but in this case, now that the words had been spoken, she was going to refuse any attempt to back out.

Peyton needed to be somewhere else, to do something else. She needed stability and a chance at a decent future. She needed to stop running. They both did. And as she stepped out into the bright sunshine and heat of the morning and set her sights on the Wagoneer...she decided that maybe...just maybe...it was time for her to change that particular thing, too.

Climbing behind the wheel and setting out through the fairly heavy traffic, she found herself still feeling quite stunned that she was going to be living under the same roof as her sister. At least, when she managed to find some down time in between cases.

It was surreal, the notion that she and Peyton, after avoiding each other for so long, had managed to come back together and finally...finally...decide to try and put their horrid past behind them. It was just a shame they had lost so many years...

Following the navigation on her work cell, she wended her way through the streets of Santa Maria, heading in the direction of North Vista Drive. That route took her through wide streets that were lined with fancy clothing stores, restaurants, antique shops, and more coffee shops than she'd ever seen in her entire life. And so, figuring she was in for something of a long day, she decided to pull into one of those shops for a hit of something that was hopefully high octane.

Parking near the entrance of Fix Coffee Bar—which did strike the right chord—she slid from the Wagoneer and made her way to the door, the scent of brewing coffee wafting out toward her like the sultry notes of a siren's song. She only hoped the actual coffee was as good as the scent. In her experience, pricey coffee shops sold water with a dash of coffee flavoring and inevitably, she wound up feeling disappointed...and slightly betrayed somehow. But, she did persist in her attempts.

Stepping through the glass door, she was instantly struck in the face by the heady, bitter aroma of what was likely a waste of time and effort. The shop was doing fairly brisk business that morning, so after waiting in line for a bit, she made it up to the young girl at the counter, placing an order for a caramel frappe with a double espresso shot and sweetened whip and then paying an exorbitant amount for it.

With a few polite words to the girl, she turned to go...and found herself running smack dab into Detective Rogers. For a second, both of them froze, but then a slow smirk spread across Rogers' face.

"Special Detective. This is a surprise," he said coolly.

She took a beat to look him and up down as he stood there, straightening himself to his full height so that he could tower over her. Though, she couldn't help but notice that he did take a couple of surreptitious steps backward, putting a little distance between them. 

 "I see you're up and dressed for businesses this morning. Job hunting?" she asked, causing his eyes to harden.

"I have a job, Stark," he stiffly reminded.

She smiled up at him then. "Give me a few more hours and I'll fix that."

That much said, she side stepped him and got herself and her coffee out of the shop and back into the sunshine, hurrying over to the Wagoneer. Only, she hadn't made the trek alone. Detective Rogers had followed her out, though he did stay on the sidewalk, several feet out of her reach.

"A few more hours? I lodged a complaint against you, Stark. Shouldn't the sheriff have taken you off my case?" Rogers demanded through his teeth.

She offered him a shrug as she pulled open the driver's door. "Your game is pretty weak, Detective. And if I were you, I'd get in touch with a lawyer--"

"A lawyer!" Rogers huffed. "I don't need a lawyer!"

"Coercion, Rogers. Its a crime," she informed easily. "And by the time I'd done with your witness, who knows what they'll be willing to say about you."

A choked snort burst out of the man. "You can't get near that witness, Stark! And I didn't coerce anybody! She came to me!"

Locking her gaze with his, she lifted a brow. "Are you sure she's locked down that tight? I mean...I do tend to have my way."

Rogers' face flushed red with anger and his fists clenched at his sides. "You can't get to her. And even if you could, you'd be wasting your time! She won't say anything against me!"

"Immunity from prosecution in regards to any and all crimes committed, up to and including signing a false statement..." she said, still holding his gaze. "It has a nice ring to it, I think."

Rogers' face went a shade darker. "You don't have the power to do that!"

"D.A. Eckhart does, though," she pointed out. "And like I said, I do tend to have my way." Rogers stared at her for a second, veins throbbing, before taking a couple of menacing steps toward her. "Really? Again?"

Her words halted Rogers, who quickly took back his steps, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his eyes all but shooting sparks of rage at her. "There's nothing there to offer immunity for! You'll just be wasting more time and resources, Stark!"

"You'd better get to her before I do," she stated off-handedly, ignoring his words. "And you should make sure that whatever deal you have going with her is better than the deal that I'm going to offer."

All Rogers could do was gape at her, opened mouthed and vibrating.

"I'd do it by the end of the day, Detective," she advised. "Sooner, if you can."

Climbing behind the wheel, she slammed the door shut and took her time taking a few swigs of her coffee, watching Rogers as he remained on the sidewalk, red and outraged for a few moments longer. Finally, though, he gave in and spun on his heel, stomping back into the coffee shop and nearly knocking over the person who was coming out.

Once he'd gone, she pulled her work cell from her messenger bag and dialed Zeb, who answered on the second ring. "Tessa, how'd the beauty parlor go?"

"Haven't made it there yet," she answered, setting her coffee—which wasn't half bad—aside and starting the engine. "Can you get a message to Sheriff Gonzalez for me."

"Will do. What's up?" asked Zeb.

"Detective Rogers' witness is about to get a very vehement visit from him. And I think the witness should be prepared for that visit. And so should we..."