ad in the newspaper was a death wish. Maybe he was just trying to protect her.
But she thought it was more his way of warning Jack and Denny. This was his murder case and no one had better get in his way—including the star witness.
She couldn’t believe that just because for one instant she happened to see a man in a hallway, her life was now in danger and her freedom taken from her. At least temporarily. She hoped.
“Don’t worry,” Jack had said. But he’d looked worried. And so had Denny.
So where did that leave her? In the hands of men she didn’t know. Men she didn’t necessarily trust. She liked that even less than she’d liked being dependent on Jack. Thank God he’d been there today. She just hoped she hadn’t gotten him fired. Or jailed.
She slammed the mug book closed and went to stand at the window to stare out at the dying afternoon. She saw the line of people buying tokens for the carousel across the river and wondered where Jack was. By now, he could be miles from here. She wished she could talk to him, but she knew any more contact might only lose him his job. She’d been afraid of leaning on him too much and now she ached to hear his voice.
Just the memory of being in his arms—
What was she doing standing here daydreaming about Jack? There was a killer out there who wanted her dead.
As she stood at the window, the day fading fast, she began to formulate a plan to escape. She couldn’t accomplish anything locked up here. Who knew how long the psychiatric evaluation would take? And who knew what the outcome would be? Maybe she was nuts for putting the ad in the paper.
The next meeting was in less than an hour with the man who’d written the second letter. This time it could be Liz’s secret lover but Karen was too far from the carousel to recognize him. She’d seen him twice now. What was it about him the second time that made her so sure it had been him? She didn’t know.
She wanted him caught. The only way that was going to happen was for her to be there. Identify him. So she could get her life back.
Funny, but her old life didn’t have as much appeal, she thought, remembering the ski lodge and Jack and that overwhelming feeling of belonging there. Pure fantasy. She’d felt safe there and she was sure that was the big appeal.
Why was she trying so hard to rationalize her feelings for the ski lodge? For Jack? What was she so afraid of?
She dragged her thoughts back to her plan, hoping to see the secret lover again—this evening.
JACK COULDN’T SIT STILL. He had time to kill and too much on his mind. He kept thinking about Denny and Liz. It beat worrying about Karen and fuming in frustration that he didn’t know where Baxter had her.
Denny had said he’d met Liz at The Oxford for a drink. Jack doubted that, even if the same bartender was on duty, he’d remember Denny and Liz, but it was worth a shot.
The bar, locally known as The Ox, was only a few blocks away. The walk felt good, the day warm and clear, but not hot yet.
Jack pushed open the door to find the bar half-empty this time of the day. Fans turned overhead against the dark green of the old tin ceiling. He pulled up one of the red vinyl stools and sat down. Behind the bar, a variety of old rifles were framed in glass and wooden boxes. He studied them until the bartender slid a napkin in front of him and asked what he’d take.
The bartender was a robust blonde woman who fortunately was friendly. He engaged her in conversation. About the spring weather, the University of Montana Grizzlies’ basketball season and finally the murder at the Carlton.
“You know that woman was in here the other night with some guy,” the bartender said.
Always skeptical, Jack asked, “You remember her, huh?”
“Can’t help but remember her. She was with this really good-looking guy.” Denny. “But the only reason I remember her was the fight she got into with him.”
The blood pounded in Jack’s ears. “Do you know what they were fighting about?”
She laughed. “Probably the usual. Another man. I only caught the worst of it and it sounded like she’d done something to really tick him off. He kept saying, ‘How could you