KAREN FELT Jack's gaze shift to her again. She'd been aware of him across the table while she was giving her statement to Detective Kirkpatrick. Jack had been deathly quiet as if he had no interest in what was taking place. Jack's gaze shift to her again. She'd been aware of him across the table while she was giving her statement to Detective Kirkpatrick. Jack had been deathly quiet as if he had no interest in what was taking place.

She'd wondered what was keeping him here now that he'd put her and Detective Kirkpatrick together, especially after Denny had mentioned that Jack's two-week "vacation" was actually probation. Wasn't he jeopardizing his job by just being here?

"You think the killer has too much to lose?" Jack asked quietly. "What about you? Are you really willing to risk your life? If he shows, it will just be to kill you."

She looked into his brown eyes, determined not to let him frighten her any more than she already was-which was considerable. But looking into his eyes had a danger all of its own. She felt as if she'd grabbed a frayed toaster cord. The heat of his expression warmed her to the core.

"My life is already at risk, Jack." She certainly didn't need him telling her how dangerous it was to put the ad in the paper. But what other recourse did she have?

Didn't he see that she was only doing what she had to? She couldn't hide indefinitely and she wasn't one to wait for trouble to come to her. At least this new Karen wasn't.

Why did it matter what he thought, anyway? Just because he hadn't written her a speeding ticket, didn't mean he was on her side. Especially now that she knew he was on probation. He couldn't help her, even if he wanted to.

"Let's just hope you see the killer before he sees you," Jack said angrily. He turned to Denny. "It's too dangerous. Too many things can go wrong. I don't like it."

Denny just stared at Jack for a long moment. "You don't have to like it, Jack," he said quietly. "It's up to her."

"Captain Baxter would disagree with you, Denny."

Karen heard the threat, saw it harden Denny's expression. "Denny's right," she said. "Once I put the ad in the paper, the police can't stop me. They will have to protect me." She looked to Denny for confirmation. He nodded.

Jack swung around to look at her, anger and disappointment in his eyes. Obviously she wasn't the woman he'd thought she was.

But it was her own reaction that bothered her. She felt sick inside with a disappointment of her own. "I appreciate everything you've done to help me, Jack. But please don't jeopardize your job or let me keep you from your vacation any longer."

He nodded, his gaze saying more clearly than words that he was washing his hands of her. "Don't worry, I'm going home to finish packing right now."

IN THE LATE-AFTERNOON light behind the bar, Karen watched Jack pull away in his Jeep, feeling bereft and strangely alone. light behind the bar, Karen watched Jack pull away in his Jeep, feeling bereft and strangely alone.

Denny's words drew her attention back to him. "I'll put you up someplace safe," he was saying beside her.

She stared at him for a long moment, wondering why he still looked so familiar. "No, thanks. I'll find my own safe place."

He looked as if she'd just turned him down for a date. "Karen-"

"Don't worry," she said, cutting him off. "I'll keep in touch. Can I drop you anywhere?"

He held her gaze as if searching for something, then shook his head. "The editor said he could get your ad in tomorrow morning's paper."

She nodded, surer than ever that she knew him from somewhere.

As she climbed into her car, she realized she would have to find a place to stay for a few days at least until she saw whether the newspaper ad worked or not. She tried not to think past that. It had had to work. She had to draw the killer out and get this over with. to work. She had to draw the killer out and get this over with.

Probably a motel would be her best bet. Something on the edge of town, out of the way. Or she could go to her mother's. The place was like a fortress. But Karen knew there wasn't any way she could keep her little problem from her mother if she did. Mostly, she didn't want to worry her mother. Nor would her mother approve of the seedy mess her daughter found herself in. Pamela Sutton would never understand how a "nice" girl could get involved in something like this.

As Karen turned down Front Street, skirting the Clark Fork River, she suddenly had a flash of Denny Kirkpatrick. Except he looked a whole lot different from the man she'd just met.

She turned around and went back to the city library. The afternoon light was fading fast, the air cooling, making her chilly. Or was it what she knew she'd find at the library?

In the school yearbook section, she pulled down her high-school annual. She found a senior picture of Liz not far from her own. She flipped through, looking for a Kirkpatrick. No Kirkpatricks.

She'd been so sure. She felt as if she were losing her mind. How could she have been so positive- His name hadn't been Denny Denny Kirkpatrick-and he hadn't gone to her school. She pulled down year-books from the counties around Missoula until she finally found him. Kirkpatrick-and he hadn't gone to her school. She pulled down year-books from the counties around Missoula until she finally found him.

He hadn't been in her grade, but three years ahead of her and Liz in school. She stared down at his senior picture. His hair had been shoulder-length and slicked back, making him less attractive. He'd also had his senior photo taken in his bike leathers, his collar up.

Jonathan Dennis Kirkpatrick had changed a lot in the past sixteen years, but not so much that Karen didn't recognize him. She'd told Jack she was good with faces. Now maybe he'd believe her.

She dialed his cell-phone number. If only she could recognize the man again from the hotel hallway as easily.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"He didn't go by Denny Kirkpatrick sixteen years ago. His full name is Jonathan Dennis Kirkpatrick but everyone called him Johnny K. He was three years ahead of me in school and went to a different high school."

"I'm glad you remembered where you'd seen him before." Jack didn't sound all that impressed.

"I told you I was good with faces."

Silence.

"I know you're busy packing, but there's one other thing I thought you'd like to know. The reason I remembered Detective Kirkpatrick? He dated Liz Jones in high school."

CHAPTER SIX

Jack stood listening to the dial tone, then slowly hung up the phone. Why hadn't Denny mentioned that he knew Liz? No, not just casually knew her but dated her for a while in high school. It wasn't as if something like that would slip your mind. Especially Denny Kirkpatrick's. He had a photographic memory when it came to women.

For several heartbeats, Jack stared at the clothes strewn across his bed and the half-full duffel bag he used for a suitcase. Denny and Liz. Swearing, he stuffed everything into the duffel, grabbed his jacket and his gun, and headed for his Jeep.

He found Denny on the roof outside his penthouse apartment, sitting in a lawn chair, his cigarette glowing in the dusk, the faint smell of smoke drifting on the breeze.

"You didn't tell me you knew Liz," Jack said, wishing it didn't sound so much like an accusation.

Denny didn't seem startled, not even surprised to see him, as if he'd been waiting. "That was a lifetime ago. I wasn't even the same person then."

Jack had to ask. "The married woman you've been seeing-" He could feel his friend's dark-eyed gaze harden.

"It wasn't Liz." The words hung on the breeze, both of them knowing he could be lying. He'd lied before. And about a woman. It had almost destroyed their friendship.

At least Denny wasn't the man Karen had seen Liz with at the hotel. At least Karen didn't think so, anyway. Jack supposed that was something. But that man might not have been the killer, either, Jack reminded himself.

The silence between them had taken on a weight and substance. G.o.d, what was Denny not not telling him? Something. telling him? Something.

"When was the last time you saw Liz?" Jack asked, sounding like a cop. h.e.l.l, he was was a cop and that was something he couldn't take a vacation from. Not even on Captain Baxter's orders. a cop and that was something he couldn't take a vacation from. Not even on Captain Baxter's orders.

Denny dragged on his cigarette and stared out into the darkness. "I saw her last week," he finally answered, sounding as if it had taken pliers to pull it out of him.

Jack swore. Lately, Denny had been acting oddly. More oddly than normal.

"It wasn't like that," Denny said. "Liz and I just had a drink together for old times' sake at The Ox. That was it."

"Whose idea was that?"

Denny stared at the burning end of his cigarette. "Hers."

"She tell you about the man she'd been seeing?"

"It never came up," he said, but Jack could feel there was more, a whole lot more that Denny wasn't telling him.

A faint light leaked out of the apartment, spilling across the roof into the growing darkness. Jack moved so he could see Denny's face better, so Denny could see his. "I'm going after the killer."

Denny laughed softly. "So it's like that, huh? Just blow off your probation for a woman you just met. She isn't even your type." He frowned. "You know Baxter isn't going to like this. You freelancing. This could get you fired."

Jack didn't give a d.a.m.n about Captain Baxter. But it could prove to be a problem. He had absolutely no authority to get involved. But dammit, he was involved. Personally involved. Which was the worst.

"I'm not going to let this guy kill Karen, too," he said, the warning clear. If Denny was mixed up in this, not even their friendship could save him.

Anger shone in his friend's eyes. "I didn't kill Liz. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I'd like to hear the truth, all of it, but I don't think I'm going to get it, am I?"

Denny picked up a half-full beer bottle from beside his chair. It was too cold to be sitting out here tonight. Or maybe Jack was the only one chilled. He watched Denny take a long drink.

"It doesn't have anything to do with the murder," Denny said after a moment.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

Denny dragged on the cigarette and squinted at him through the smoke. "It's a private matter."

"Involving a woman."

He didn't deny it. "I'm going to have to ask you to trust me."

That wasn't good enough, Jack wanted to say. Instead he stared at his friend, thinking of all the times he'd trusted Denny Kirkpatrick with his life. So, why couldn't he trust him now? Because this time a woman was involved, sure as h.e.l.l, and when it came to women, Denny Kirkpatrick was his own worst enemy.

"You might want to ask to be taken off this case," Jack said.

Denny laughed, sounding like his old self. "That wouldn't make Baxter suspicious," he said facetiously.

"Once he finds out about you and Liz-"

"No reason he should," Denny said, locking his eyes on Jack. "Unless you plan to tell him."

"Why, Denny? Why take the chance? If you really have nothing to hide-"

"Jack, did it ever occur to you that I might just want to see this guy brought to justice for my own reasons?"

He stared at his friend. Could it be possible? Had Denny cared for the dead woman? Jack suddenly recalled one night at the bar, Denny'd had too much to drink and started talking about his first and only love, some high-school girl he'd dated who'd broken his heart. "Are you telling me Liz was the girl you were in love with?"

"Like I said, that was a lifetime ago. You sure you don't want a beer?"

Jack shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to get any more out of Denny tonight. "I've got to go."

KAREN'S MOTHER answered the door a little out of breath. Faint cla.s.sical music spilled out into the night along with the hum of voices and the soft tinkle of laughter. answered the door a little out of breath. Faint cla.s.sical music spilled out into the night along with the hum of voices and the soft tinkle of laughter.

Bridge night. Karen had completely forgotten.

"Karen?" her mother exclaimed and frowned. "Is something wrong, dear?"

What could possibly be wrong? Karen tried desperately to remember why she'd come. She'd just been driving by and felt a sudden desire to see her mother. More impulsive behavior she didn't want to a.n.a.lyze too closely.

"Nothing's wrong," Karen a.s.sured her, but the mere fact that she'd shown up on bridge night proved that something must be wrong with her. And they both knew it.

"Well, step in here out of the cold," her mother said, studying her. "You are taking care of yourself, aren't you? Eating properly?"

Karen nodded. Eating had never been one of her problems. Eating properly, maybe. "I'm fine. I forgot it was bridge night, that's all. I just hadn't seen you for a while."

Her mother continued to study her with an intent that was making her nervous. "I worry about you, dear."

Karen realized she hadn't been by in a long time. Guilt, and the emotions she'd kept in check since the murder, brought a flood of tears to her eyes. She glanced away, hoping her mother hadn't seen them.

She desperately wanted to change the subject. "Mom, isn't that Annette Westbrook's coat, that new bridge player I met a while back with you?" she asked, spying the locally made, one-of-a-kind coat on top of a pile on the settee.

Her mother glanced at the coat. "I don't know, dear. Is it important? I could ask her."

"No," Karen said quickly. "I just saw one like it recently, that's all." In the Hotel Carlton last night, actually. At the same time I might have seen a murderer. In the Hotel Carlton last night, actually. At the same time I might have seen a murderer. She'd been right. The woman in the hallway near Liz's room She'd been right. The woman in the hallway near Liz's room was was Annette Westbrook. Annette Westbrook.

It was time to go. To get out before she blurted out everything and really started to cry. She couldn't do that to her mother. Especially on bridge night. "Mom, get back to your game, please. I'll come by soon and we can visit."

Her mother still looked worried. "I really wish you would find yourself a nice young man."