Jennifer's heart thundered in her throat and her mind screamed in panic finding her editor, her friend like that. She huddled on the floor beside him, having no idea what to do. And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Someone had come into the room.

She looked up and was somehow not surprised to see Jonathan Hart there. "He's dead," she told him desperately.

But Jonathan had no sympathy in his expression. "If he's Brooks, that makes you…"

"Jennifer Edwards," she confirmed. There was no use trying to hide it or even explain it now. A man was dead. Murdered.

Jonathan nodded, obviously having figured out her identity for himself now. "And quite possibly a murderer," he added.

Her jaw dropped. "What!? You can't possibly think I had anything to do with this! You saw me ten minutes ago!"

"The way you ran off, what else am I supposed to think?" he accused.

Jennifer carefully stood up, not wanting to disturb Brooks any more than she already had. Oh Brooks, poor Brooks! But she tried not to think about it as she moved around him to where Jonathan stood in the doorway. "Jonathan, I'm not a murderer," she said resolutely. What else could she say?

He huffed at her in frustration. He grabbed her wrist and practically dragged her down the stairs and out the door. Max was there in the Jaguar right outside. But Jonathan didn't put her in the car.

"Wait! Where are we going?" she asked, the panic starting to well up inside her again.

"To call the police," Jonathan explained.

She tried to pull on his arm and stop him. "Oh, but Jonathan, I can explain everything!" she cried.

"You can explain it to Scotland Yard," he replied, not allowing her to deter him.

"What!? Scotland Yard?"

Jonathan just pulled her up the stairs to the main road to find a phone box.

"But Jonathan, just give me five minutes to explain!" she begged. She stumbled slightly on the steps and was actually mildly grateful he was holding onto her so tightly or she might have fallen.

He let go of her when they reached the red telephone box. "Five minutes?" He looked at his watch. "You've got four minutes and fifty seconds."

That really wasn't what she meant, but what was she supposed to do? Oh this was all wrong! He shouldn't have found out this way, he shouldn't have walked in to find Jennifer kneeling over a dead body! And neither of them should have been in any of this mess at all! Jennifer should have never lied to him about her name, she should have never called Brooks last night to tell him she had a story, Jonathan never should have told her anything about Kingsford Motors.

A man was dead and there was a story in the paper with Jennifer's name that she didn't write that might bring down half the British auto industry, and for some terrible reason, the thing that upset her most right now was the fact that Jonathan Hart was the best man she'd ever met and she might have completely ruined any chance at anything with him after this moment. He was going to turn her over to the police and walk out of her life forever if she didn't figure something out in the next four minutes and fifty seconds.

"Alright, alright, I did call Brooks last night," she confessed. "I told him I had a lead on a story. But I made him promise me not to print anything until I had checked it out. He agreed!" Oh Jonathan was standing very close to her and she was starting to lose focus a bit. More than a bit.

He looked at his watch again. "Four minutes."

Her heart skipped a beat. She didn't know what else she was supposed to say that could make any difference. "All I told him was that we had dinner together," she explained anxiously.

Jonathan frowned. "You didn't tell him the rest?"

"What rest?" Her voice was getting a little hysterical, but there wasn't a thing she could do about it. She was feeling a little hysterical, actually.

"About the rose on the pillow," Jonathan said pointedly.

Well, now it was time to come clean about that, too. None of this was how Jennifer wanted it all revealed, but since she was confessing everything anyway…

Louise—no, not Louise, Jennifer—looked at him with confusion in her eyes. God, even in the midst of all of this, even when Jonathan was so furious with her that he could spit, he couldn't help but be captivated by how beautiful she was. So much for the image in his head of Jennifer Edwards. He couldn't believe a woman so lovely could be so rotten to the core. Because the woman he was falling in love with didn't exist. Louise Tobin wasn't real. She was a fantasy, a dream he thought had come true. Instead, it was conniving, duplicitous Jennifer Edwards who had turned his life into a waking nightmare, jumping out of his bed to murder her editor.

"I left it there last night," Jennifer said, her voice small.

No, that didn't make any sense. "You didn't leave that there this morning?" Jonathan asked, trying to understand.

There was a flicker of something in her eyes. Annoyance? Disappointment? "You fell asleep," she said simply.

"I fell asleep making love?" he asked dubiously. As if such a thing could ever happen. What did she take him for? Well, obviously she took him for a complete sucker, since she'd duped him successfully for a whole day already.

Jennifer's expression looked almost sad when she told him, "We didn't make love."

Jonathan's mind went completely blank, unable to contemplate a reality in which he didn't make love to her last night. After that amazing night, he took her back to the suite. He knew he'd done that. He'd told her about Kingsford Motors when they were sitting on the bed. And he'd wanted to…he'd intended to…dear god, he fell asleep!? "We didn't make love?" he asked her in complete disbelief.

She just stared at him with that same sad look on her face. Well, at least he hadn't missed it. Jonathan would have wanted to remember every bit of her, every moment they shared. And he really couldn't remember anything last night after they'd come back to the hotel. Obviously that was because he'd fallen asleep.

Though, now that he knew the truth of Jennifer Edwards, he was glad they hadn't made love. Her lies would have hurt that much more if they'd shared something truly special.

But a little voice int eh back of Jonathan's head whispered to him that even if they hadn't made love, they'd still shared something special. And the lies still stung.

"Two minutes," he reminded her, looking at his watch and giving himself a shake out of his hurt feelings.

The desperate, hysterical tone came back into Jennifer's voice. "Oh Jonathan, you've got to believe me, I did not write that story!" she insisted.

She could protest all she wanted, but that wouldn't get her anywhere with him. "You were the only one who had the information," he reminded her. "And what was all that—"

A shot rang out and a pane of glass in the telephone box beside them shattered. Someone was shooting at them! Jonathan grabbed Jennifer and pulled her back down the stairs the way they'd come.

"If there is an explanation for this, I hope I live long enough to hear it." They sprinted down the stairs and into the car, and Max tore off.

A blue car started pursuing them, and Max asked Louise what was going on. Jonathan disabused him of that, and Max was as surprised and annoyed as he was to discover that Louise was really Jennifer Edwards.

"What the hell's going on?" Max demanded as the tires screeched and they narrowly avoided hitting a cyclist.

"Someone's trying to kill me," Jonathan explained.

"Kill you? Kill you?" Jennifer protested. "Suppose someone's trying to kill me for writing that story?"

Jonathan turned to her, the anger flaring up inside him again after being briefly quelled by the threat to his life. "I thought you said you didn't write that story!"

"I didn't write the story!" she shouted.

"Then why would someone be trying to kill you?"

"Because my name is on it! Whoever's shooting might be as wrong about it as you are!"

He really wasn't going to argue with her about this right now. They obviously had more pressing issues than whether or not she wrote the story in the paper where she worked that had her name on it and whether or not Jonathan believed the woman who'd already lied about her name and god knows what else.

Max was doing his best to evade their pursuer, but to no avail.

"Let's get the police to follow us," Jonathan instructed.

As they passed a couple cops, Max started honking incessantly to get their attention. Thankfully, the sirens started and they began tailing the Jaguar as Max raced all through the city. Eventually, he lost them just enough for Jonathan and Jennifer to jump out of the car. Max could be the bait, and the two of them could hide safely. Sure enough, the Jaguar sped off and the police followed.

"Well, I suppose I'm indebted to you for the rest of my life," Jennifer said begrudgingly.

Jonathan raised his brow at the nerve of her. "A simple 'thanks' would do."

Whatever sarcastic reply she wanted to give was interrupted by the blue car pulling over and their assailant getting out.

"You can save it. It's not over yet."

Jonathan grabbed Jennifer's hand and they ran through the alleyway to the ferry dock. The boat was starting up its engine. The attacker was right on their heels.

"How's your broad jump?" Jonathan asked her, ready to shove her across the causeway.

"I guess we're gonna find out!" And with that, Jennifer leapt. Jonathan was right behind her.