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She felt truly afraid for the first time and alone even with the officers there. The full impact of what had happened earlier had finally hit her. Someone had tried to run her down in the street. Tried to kill her.
And now Captain Brad Baxter had ordered her into protective custody, pending a psychiatric evaluation. She doubted he really thought her 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 G.o.d 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 gla.s.s 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 do something like that to me? What the h.e.l.l did you think was going to happen when I found out? I could kill you with my bare hands for doing this to me.'"
Jack felt sick. He left a large tip and stumbled out into the spring afternoon, afraid Denny wouldn't show back at Al and Vic's, let alone bring him Karen's location. And it was less than twenty minutes until the second meeting.
Jack tried to put the picture together. Liz and Denny. The married woman Denny had been seeing on the sly? Didn't seem likely since Liz supposedly had only been in town a week. But Columbia Falls wasn't that far away. They could have been meeting for some time.
Add to that, the fight at the bar. Over another man? Liz's secret lover? The woman had more secrets than the CIA. Then Denny gets wind of it and blows. The next thing you know Liz is dead. Jack didn't like the way it all fell into chronological order.
The question was how long did the secret lover stay in Liz's room? What if he'd left quickly and Denny had been waiting in the wings? There were thirty-five minutes between the moment when Karen had seen Liz open the hotel-room door to the mystery man until the time when Liz was murdered. A lot could happen in thirty-five minutes.
Too much. Had Denny been the one who called Karen after Liz was dead? Had he been the one to find Liz's latte-shop napkin with Karen's number on it? It had been Denny's idea for Karen to put the newspaper ad in the personals column, knowing Karen would be risking her life.
With a terrible sense of foreboding, Jack went back to the first bar to wait for Denny, praying his friend would show. Praying he was wrong and that there was another explanation.
DENNY DIDN'T SHOW when he was supposed to. Jack was sipping a beer, growing more anxious, when a news special flashed on the television. when he was supposed to. Jack was sipping a beer, growing more anxious, when a news special flashed on the television.
"Could you turn that up?" he asked the bartender.
"Dr. Carl Vandermullen had been picked up for questioning by police and released, following the murder of his ex-wife Liz Jones," the newsman said. "Their divorce was finalized just twenty-four hours before Jones was found murdered at the Hotel Carlton. Dr. Vandermullen refused to comment except to say his ex-wife's death was a great loss and he hopes the police apprehend the killer soon."
Baxter had obviously used kid gloves on the doctor.
Regular programming resumed and Jack looked again at his watch, growing more anxious as the clock ticked away each minute. The second meeting was to go off in less than ten minutes. But Denny had no reason to be there. He'd been taken off the case. And he knew Karen wasn't going to be there.
So where was Denny? Had he found Karen's hiding place and gone there instead? Had Jack just enlisted the killer to find Karen?
Denny walked in just as Jack was getting ready to leave.
"Baxter's got her locked up tighter than h.e.l.l and no one is talking, and I mean no-" Denny stopped in midstep, midsentence. "What is it?"
"Dammit, Denny," Jack cursed. "I know about the fight you had with Liz the night you met her for a drink, just two days before she was killed."
"Don't do this, old buddy."
"Where's Karen?" he demanded.
"I don't know." Denny glared at him, anger in his dark eyes. "I told you. I couldn't get squat."
Jack shook his head. "I need to know the truth, Denny. Now. No more bull."
"I already told you I didn't have anything to do with Liz's death. I want her killer caught as much as you do. More." He looked away, then motioned to the bartender that he was going in the back and didn't want to be bothered.
"Get a clue," Denny said the moment they were seated at the farthest table in the back. "Why do you think I called you Sat.u.r.day morning and told you it was urgent that you come to the Carlton?"
"A stupid practical joke." Except it seemed all wrong considering what he now knew about Denny and Liz.
"Would I have wanted you on this case if I'd killed Liz?" Denny demanded. "Look, Jack, you're the best cop I know. That's why I need you."
"Need me?"
"To help find this guy."
"Then why have you been trying so hard to get rid of me?"
"Because I know you. You do just the opposite of what anyone tells you to. If I'd have acted like I wanted you on this case, you'd be up in the mountains right now. Fortunately for me, you're stubborn as h.e.l.l and you met Karen Sutton."
Maybe fortunate for Denny, Jack's meeting Karen, but Jack wasn't so sure it was fortunate for him. But he'd definitely gotten involved.
"Why?"
"I want Liz's killer," Denny said, his words hard, the humor of a moment ago long gone.
Jack didn't like the vengeful look in his partner's eyes, but it definitely confirmed what he'd suspected. "She was your first love, the one you told me about."
Denny put his elbows on the table and cupped his face in his hands. He looked tired and incredibly sad. "It was like what you said happened with you when you first saw Karen. Zap. I never thought I would ever love anyone the way I loved Liz."
Jack waited, sensing more to Denny's story. A whole lot more.
"I get this call from her last week," Denny began slowly. "After all these years, she calls me out of the blue. Just hearing her voice-" He shook his head and looked out across the bar. "She says she needs to talk to me. So I meet her at The Oxford. She probably figures it's someplace her doctor husband doesn't frequent."
Denny took a breath and let it out slowly. "I'd heard she'd married Vandermullen so I figure she either wants to rub it in about marrying a successful doctor, every girl's dream, or she's got marital problems and just wants a familiar shoulder to cry on and that's why she wants to see me." He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Then she drops the bombsh.e.l.l."
Jack stared at his friend, holding his breath, afraid to move a muscle. G.o.d, don't let him tell me he killed her. For any reason.
Denny's next words were so unexpected that Jack thought he'd heard wrong. "She told me we had a daughter." He shot a look at Jack. "Liz was pregnant when she broke up with me. Said she didn't know it at the time. She left town. Gave the baby up for adoption."
Jack didn't know what to say. Couldn't find any words for a few moments. He could see how hard the news had hit Denny. Much harder than Jack would've ever imagined.
"Why tell you now, after all these years?" he asked finally.
"She'd been trying to find our daughter and had reason to believe she'd been adopted by a family in Missoula. She wanted my help. The adoption had been handled illegally."
Jack dreaded to think what kind of help Liz had solicited. "What did you do?"
Denny let out a bitter laugh. "Nothing. We got into a huge fight, as you know. I threatened to throttle her for keeping this from me. I was so angry-" he shook his head "-I just couldn't deal with it. It was bad enough that she'd torn out my heart when she dumped me, but this- I stormed out of the bar, trying to cool off. Liz left and I...followed her."
Jack didn't like the hole Denny was digging for himself. No wonder his friend hadn't told him or anyone else about this.
"I just had this feeling that she was lying to me about something. I couldn't put my finger on it."
"You didn't believe you'd had a child with her?" Jack asked.
"That was the only only thing I did believe," he said. "Everything else about the story just didn't ring true, you know?" thing I did believe," he said. "Everything else about the story just didn't ring true, you know?"
Jack knew. Maybe that's why they'd become cops. Cynics with a sixth sense for bullpuck. And a need for justice.
"I followed her to the cemetery," he said. "I watched her from a distance as she knelt by a grave. She looked like she was crying. After she left, I went over to where she'd been kneeling and shone my flashlight on the gravestone." Denny swallowed, his eyes hardening.
Jack held his breath.
"It was the grave of a baby girl who'd died at birth on March 11, 1984. The same day Liz said our baby had been born. The baby's name was Joanna Kay."
Named after her father, Jack thought with a start. Johnny K. The name Liz had known Denny by. "I'm sorry," Jack said, not knowing what else to say.
Denny shook his head. "Liz had buried her in the Missoula City Cemetery, right there between Interstate 90 and the railroad tracks, just blocks from where I was raised, on the wrong side. Ironic, huh?"
The bitterness in his voice couldn't cloak the horrible hurt. To find out he'd fathered a child and only hours later learn that the baby had died at birth. Why had Liz done this to him?
"You realize that all of this only gives you more of a motive for killing her," Jack said, still a cop.
Denny smiled and nodded. "If I could have found her that night-"
Jack realized Liz seemed to have that effect on men. She made them want to kill her. Only now one of them had.
"Why would she tell me that she was searching for our daughter then go to her grave?" Denny said.
Jack shook his head. He'd never understood women. "Maybe she wanted to hurt you."
Denny let out a snort. "Well, she succeeded."
"But you still want to find her killer?" he said, a little surprised.
"Oh, yeah," Denny said. "Whoever killed her, killed any chance I had of learning the truth about my daughter."
"Then that night at The Oxford was the last time you saw Liz alive?"
Denny lit a cigarette, taking his time. "I saw her again. I followed her to the Carlton Sat.u.r.day night, determined to get the truth out of her about my kid."
Jack groaned.
"Afraid so, old buddy. But I never talked to her. I ran into someone I knew and figured I could take it up with Liz later. I was wrong."
CHAPTER TEN
Getting away proved easier than Karen had antic.i.p.ated. She guessed it was partly her face. Her father used to say she had the face of an angel. Her mother used to add, "But the mischief of the devil in her."
Whatever it had been, she was now clambering down the fire escape.