Yeah, Jack thought miserably. Karen Sutton was turning out to be Denny’s kind of woman.

“Do you have your tape recorder?” Denny asked on the way to Karen’s apartment. “I was thinking I’d take her statement some place quiet away from the office.”

Jack shot him a look.

Denny grinned, acknowledging that Jack knew him too well. “Baxter’s going nuts over this case. I don’t really want him to know about this woman you found. Not yet.”

Jack wanted to warn his friend about bucking Baxter. Denny should have already learned from Jack’s example. But Jack also knew dispensing advice to Denny was like spitting into the wind. “Why would Baxter care so much about this case?”

“Are you kidding?” Denny asked in surprise. “I thought you said your witness knew the murder victim?”

“Liz Jones, right?” Jack had gotten his information from the same bellhop Karen had talked to.

“Liz Jones, now,” Denny said. “Until the day before yesterday, she was the Mrs. in Dr. and Mrs. Carl Vandermullen.”

Jack let out a low whistle. “She was married to him?”

“Was is the key word here. Nasty divorce. She’d been living in their place in Columbia Falls—he’d returned to Missoula to the house they own here up Rattlesnake Canyon.”

“So, what was she doing in Missoula?” Jack asked.

Denny shrugged and looked away. “I guess just finalizing her divorce.” Was it Jack’s imagination that his friend seemed to avoid his gaze? “Baxter wants us to tread softly. He doesn’t want to get on the doctor’s bad side by seeing headlines like High-Profile Doctor Suspected in Wife’s Murder. It’s hard on a man’s political career. And you know Baxter.”

Unfortunately, Jack did. Brad Baxter had much higher aspirations than police captain.

As Jack pulled up in front of Karen’s apartment, he saw Denny frowning to himself. Why did Jack have the feeling that there was a lot more to this case than his friend was telling him?

Jack felt a surge of happiness when the door opened and he saw Karen looking freshly scrubbed and smelling wonderful as if she’d just come from the shower. She couldn’t have looked more like his Girl Next Door. Except, call him old-fashioned, but his idea of the Girl Next Door didn’t include chasing killers.

As Karen looked past him to Denny, Jack saw the flash of interest in her gaze. He’d seen it a million times before. Denny just did that to women and one look was usually all it took for Denny to have a conquest. Annoying as it was, it was something Jack had gotten used to over the years. But it had never made him feel such a pang of jealousy before.

WHEN KAREN HAD PEEKED through the peephole, she’d felt a surge of joy just at the sight of Jack’s boyish face.

“That’s it?” he asked in surprise when he saw only the one small bag beside the door.

“I travel light,” she told him, handing him the tape from her answering machine. That’s when she’d noticed the man with Jack.

“Karen Sutton,” Jack said by way of introduction as he pocketed the tape. “Detective Dennis Kirkpatrick.”

Detective Kirkpatrick had classic good looks and the moment Karen saw him, she knew she’d seen that face before somewhere.

“Everyone just calls me Denny,” the dark-haired man said smoothly, flashing her a snake-oil-salesman of a smile as he held out his hand.

His dark eyes shone with faint amusement—and definite interest as he gazed deep into hers. She’d never liked his type. Too smooth, too charming, too much. But she couldn’t be sure about this new Karen. She’d showered and changed and didn’t feel half-naked anymore, but she also didn’t feel quite herself, either. This new braver, more impetuous Karen scared her.

That’s why she wasn’t sure what her reaction was going to be as she let Denny envelop her hand in his larger one and was relieved when she felt nothing. Zip. Not even a little flutter. Nothing that is, other than frustration at not being able to place where she’d seen him before. She liked this new Karen better all the time.

“You look familiar,” she said, taking her hand back.

Denny grinned, looking pleased, obviously taking it as a compliment as they walked to her car. “Got that kind of face, I guess.”

No, actually, few men had such a classically handsome face and she was sure he knew it. She shook her head. “No, I know you from somewhere. You look very familiar.”

His grin faded a little. He shot a look at Jack.

Jack put her bag in her car and looked over at her, his expression dark as if he suspected it was some kind of pickup line.

Right. She told herself Jack would be singing a different tune when she remembered where she’d seen Denny before. “Don’t worry. It will come to me,” she assured both detectives. “I’m good with faces. I always remember.” Eventually.

JACK DROVE KAREN to Denny’s favorite bar in her Honda, while Denny took the Jeep and a different route. Jack picked up the tail a couple of blocks from Karen’s apartment. With relief, he didn’t notice anyone else following them.

Denny led them through the back entrance and down a set of stairs to a small conference room in the basement. Jack took a seat across the table from Karen, wondering what he was still doing here. Denny could definitely handle it from here on out. In fact, the best thing Jack could do, careerwise, was to clear out now.

“Interesting place to interrogate witnesses,” Karen noted.

“It’s a safe place.” Denny set the tape recorder on the table but didn’t turn it on. “And right now the fewer people who know about you the better.”

She nodded. “I understand the situation I’m in. The killer must be worried about me or he wouldn’t have called my number from the murder scene.”

Smart woman, Jack thought.

“How did he get your number?” Denny asked.

“I figure he either overheard Liz leaving a message on Karen’s answering machine or he found the number on the napkin beside the hotel phone or a combination of the two,” Jack said.

“You think he’s afraid she told me something?” Karen asked.

Who knows what the man was hiding, Jack thought. “Possibly.”

“I would imagine he wants to tie up any loose ends,” Denny said. “You’re a loose end.” He reached over and turned on the tape recorder.

Jack sat listening to Karen retell her story, realizing he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew she was safe.

When she’d finished, she asked, “What now?”

“You go somewhere safe while the department tries to find the guy,” Denny told her.

“For how long?” she asked anxiously.

Denny shook his head.

“What if you don’t find him?” she asked, sitting up a little straighter. “I have work. I have responsibilities.”

Denny reached over and turned off the tape recorder. “There might be another way.”

Jack had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this.

“What?” Karen asked, sounding interested and making Jack all that more leery.

“You say Liz met this guy through a newspaper personals ad,” Denny began. “It’s a long shot, but what if you were to put—”

“An ad in the personals,” she said, jumping on it. “That’s a great idea.”

“It’s a stupid idea,” Jack interrupted but neither of them seemed to be listening.

“It would have to be something that he’d recognize, maybe might even be looking for,” Denny said. “Such as, ‘I saw you at the Hotel Carlton Saturday night. You saw me. I know everything. I think we’d better talk, don’t you?’”

“Right,” Karen agreed. “Bluff.”

“Run an ad for a murderer?” Jack demanded, loud enough he got their attention. Just when he thought the woman might have some sense. “Great idea,” he said getting to his feet. “Right up there with chasing the killer in your Honda.”

“Excuse me, but if you have a better idea, let’s hear it,” she snapped back.

“Give the police a chance to find him?” Jack suggested.

“I’m not stopping the police from finding him,” she said. “I’m just not going to sit around waiting for the killer to find me first. I have to do something.”