to hear their conversation or to see them together,” she concluded.
“You think he’s married?”
“Seems likely, huh?”
He finished his coffee. It was time to turn all of this over to his partner. And time for Jack Adams to get on with his so-called vacation. Denny could handle it from here. So why was Jack dragging his feet? Did he even have to ask? He smiled to himself. At thirty-four he knew himself pretty well.
“We need to get you, your information and that message on your answering-machine tape to Detective Kirkpatrick at the police department,” Jack said finally.
She nodded. “You’re not on the case?”
He laughed and looked down at his clothing. “I’m actually on vacation.” Kind of.
She smiled. “You must be very dedicated, chasing speeders on your vacation.”
He almost told her about seeing her at the Hotel Carlton, about making a bet with himself about her, about thinking there was something interesting and suspicious about her, about picking up the coffee-stained napkin she’d dropped and following her. “Just a chance encounter,” he said.
“Just my luck.”
He wasn’t sure how to take that, but she was smiling.
He met her gaze and almost laughed at the tension that sparked between them. Sexual tension? It had been so long he almost didn’t recognize it. Almost.
“What now?” she asked, her eyes large and expectant.
Several thoughts leaped to mind. He wondered if she had plans for later tonight. Except later tonight, he’d be frying freshly caught fish over his Coleman miles from here. Remember all those plans you had at the lodge?
“Oh, there is one other thing,” she said, toying with her coffee cup, the nervousness back. “The guy I saw at the hotel with Liz—” Her gaze came up to meet his. Fear darkened her eyes. “He saw me, too.”
Jack felt his gut clinch. “Did he know you?”
She chewed at her lower lip for a moment. “I don’t think so. He looked…surprised when he saw me, but it could have been because I had red wine all over my dress, which as you know looks a lot like dried blood.”
He nodded, remembering only too well. He finished his coffee, then excused himself. In the quiet of the men’s room, he punched in the number on his cell phone, telling himself he was doing the right thing. But he wondered if the woman back at the table would agree. She seemed to have a definite mind of her own.
“I wouldn’t worry,” he said, when he returned to the table. “By now the police could already have someone in custody.”
She looked relieved as she put down her empty coffee cup. “That is possible, isn’t it?”
“I’ll try to find out for you.”
She gave him her home number and he dug one of his cards from his wallet and wrote his cell-phone number on the back, still thinking he’d be fishing before nightfall. “Call me if you need anything.”
THE PAST TWENTY-FOUR hours felt like a twilight-zone roller-coaster ride. Karen drove back to her apartment in a strangely electrified daze, wondering when the ride would end and the old Karen’s quiet life would return. She couldn’t believe she’d tried to chase down a killer. Even a possible killer. That just wasn’t like her.
No, she wasn’t anything like the Karen Sutton she’d been prior to running into Liz yesterday morning. The old Karen Sutton had only read about murder and she’d definitely never been pulled over for speeding and frisked.
She felt her cheeks flush at the memory. Just the thought of Detective Jack Adams warmed more than her face. She’d even thought she felt high-voltage currents at the coffee shop. Crazy. She’d just met the man. He was a cop, for heaven’s sake. A cop who’d pulled her over for speeding. So how did she explain her reaction to him? Shoot, she couldn’t even explain her reaction to this new fearless her.
Maybe it was adrenaline. Adrenaline and too much sugar and caffeine.
She decided she’d take this new Karen home, get her cleaned up and properly clothed, then wait for Jack’s call. Once the sugar, caffeine and adrenaline wore off she’d be her old self again.
When she reached her apartment, she was actually glad to see Howie waiting for her on the front step. She needed a good strong dose of reality right now.
“I have a confession,” he said solemnly.
A confession. Great. She’d heard enough confessions for a while. But she and Howie did need to talk and she didn’t mind the company right now.
She opened her apartment door, just thankful to be home. She still felt numb from the shock of Liz’s murder. But at least it was out of her hands now.
She put Detective Adams’s card by the phone, cell-phone number up. Just in case.
“I’m not sure I’m up to any confessions,” she said and turned to find Howie inspecting her poor, deprived houseplants.
“Do you have any organic fertilizer?” he asked.
“Howie, we need to talk.”
“Your plants really need water—and fertilizer, Karen.”
She decided to take pity on her poor neglected plants, which she only remembered to water when they looked as if they were on their last stems, to ease her own guilt.
“I think there might be some Make-It-Grow that your aunt gave me under the sink,” she said, then added, “This isn’t going to work, you know.”
He looked up from digging under her sink. “What?”
Why did she feel they had never been on the same page? Maybe not even in the same book? “This. You and me.”
Howie straightened, turning bright red. “You mean you thought—” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “But, Karen, you and I don’t have anything in common.”
Now she was the one confused. “If you realize that, then why did you take me out, bring me pies, offer to water and fertilize my plants?” she demanded.
“I’m sorry if you thought I was interested in you, but, Karen, there’s someone else.”
“Someone else?” For just an absurd instant, she felt betrayed. No, this weird ride wasn’t over yet. She took a wild guess. “Your friend at the Hotel Carlton?”
He nodded and smiled, almost starry-eyed.
Okay. She was starting to get it. That’s why he’d taken her to the Carlton. “You took me out to make her jealous.” It didn’t do much for her ego but hey, if she could help out true love—
Howie shook his head.
She plopped down on the sofa. “Okay, then I don’t get it.”
“Aunt
