Witness In Hiding. Lisa Phillips

       ONE

      Zoe Marks was being followed. That tingle on the back of her neck was constant as she pulled her ball cap low and stepped inside the Laundromat. Had he found her? She’d been so careful, but maybe this was it...the day he finally caught up.

      And killed her.

      Downtown Salt Lake City was busy just after eleven at night, and she’d hoped to disappear in the crowds. Maybe it hadn’t worked.

      Moose wasn’t behind the counter. The man had been recommended by a mutual contact, and he should be here. He’d said as much at their first meeting.

      Moose had a craggy face, the nose that had earned him the moniker and a huge belly that hung over his belt buckle. He didn’t exactly blend in. If he was here she’d be able to spot him, but he wasn’t out behind the register tonight. Was he waiting in his office?

      Zoe made her way down the center aisle, between rows of washers and dryers stacked on either side of the room. The long, low bench in the middle.

      A young woman in the corner folded a pair of skinny jeans. Probably two sizes smaller than the ones Zoe wore. Her hair hung over most of her face, and she didn’t make eye contact. That was fine with Zoe. Behind the counter an older woman with purple hair sat reading a fashion magazine.

      During the three weeks she’d been in hiding, Zoe had learned more than she wanted to about the criminal element. Top of the list was the fact that she had to talk the talk with these people. She couldn’t give away anything personal, or emotional. Least of all was the fact that Zoe Marks was an office assistant, a divorcée and the single mom of the most precocious seven-year-old boy in the world. No, she had to be one of them. An anonymous lady who wanted a way out of this life.

      Zoe rapped her knuckles on the Formica. “Lookin’ for Moose.”

      The

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