Part 6 (1/2)

The answer to any problem. Except this one, Mom. Except this one, Mom. But Karen smiled and kissed her mom's cheek, the scent of her perfume taking Karen back to her childhood. That was why she'd come here, she thought, as she turned and left. Looking for that childhood sanctuary where the worst that could happen was a skinned knee or a broken vase. But Karen smiled and kissed her mom's cheek, the scent of her perfume taking Karen back to her childhood. That was why she'd come here, she thought, as she turned and left. Looking for that childhood sanctuary where the worst that could happen was a skinned knee or a broken vase.

As she drove away, she realized there was no place to run that she would feel safe. But at least now she knew where to go.

JACK'S CELL PHONE rang just as he climbed into his Jeep. ”Yeah?” he said, still mulling over his conversation with Denny, still worried and concerned that his partner had gotten entangled in all this. rang just as he climbed into his Jeep. ”Yeah?” he said, still mulling over his conversation with Denny, still worried and concerned that his partner had gotten entangled in all this.

”It's Henderson,” a female voice said with official quickness.

A wave of apprehension hit him. ”You still have her?”

”Affirmative. As per your instructions, I followed her from the doughnut shop and have been with her ever since.”

”Good work.” He began to breathe a little easier and was glad he'd called former cop Janet Henderson this morning. She'd retired a few years back but he'd helped her when she was having trouble with her teenage son. She'd told him if he ever needed anything to just call. And he had. He didn't want to think about why he'd called in an IOU for Karen Sutton, a woman he barely knew.

”I thought I'd better give you an update,” Henderson said. ”She went straight to her apartment after the doughnut shop and remained there until you came for her. After her meeting with you and Denny at the bar, she went to the Missoula Public Library. Thirty minutes later, she drove to a house in Rattlesnake Canyon owned by her mother and got out, sans suitcase. Ten minutes later and alone, she headed west out of town.”

Toward that strip of new motels, he thought.

”To the Birch Industrial Park. She parked her blue Honda and went into one of the larger metal buildings about forty minutes ago, again sans suitcase. No sign since.”

”What is she doing at an industrial park?” he asked.

”Got me, me,” Henderson said. ”You want me to go in and check it out?”

”No, I'm on my way. Mind staying until I get there?”

”Not at all.”

”Thanks, Janet,” he said. ”I really appreciate this.”

”No problem.”

On the way to Birch Industrial Park, Jack realized he still had the answering-machine tape Karen had given him in his jeans pocket. Already in deep, he called the evidence room and asked that a copy of the Liz Jones case file be expressed to his apartment. Fortunately, the person on duty didn't question the request. Probably didn't realize Jack was supposed to be miles from this case, miles from this town.

Darkness hunkered between the buildings as Jack turned off his headlights and drove slowly into the industrial park. He spotted Henderson's pickup and waved to her. It wasn't until she'd pulled away that he parked and got out of his Jeep, his shoulder holster snug against his ribs, the pistol feeling heavy.

Karen Sutton's blue Honda was parked outside a large, nondescript metal building at the back of the industrial park. According to his calculations, she'd been in the building for over an hour now.

He'd expected her to go to one of the motels on the edge of Missoula, certainly not to come to an industrial park. When was he going to learn to expect the unexpected from this woman?

He stared at the building in front of the Honda, asking himself what he was doing here. Chief Baxter wasn't going to like him b.u.t.ting in. Denny already didn't. And Karen Sutton didn't seem to need his help.

But that wasn't stopping him, was it? No, because the Liz Jones case bothered him. And Karen Sutton bothered him even more. Just not in the same way.

The modest sign over the front door of the metal building read Western Cabinetry. He tried the front door, expecting to find it locked at this hour. It opened and he stepped in, struck instantly by the scent of fresh-cut pine.

No one sat at the small desk just inside the door but he could hear the whine of a saw deeper in the building. He moved toward it, alert. What was a woman like his Girl Next Door doing here? It didn't seem like the time to order cabinets, not even bookshelves, not with a murderer looking for her. But what did he know?

He came around a small part.i.tion, the whir of the saw filling the air, and spotted a figure at a long, well-lit workbench, running a circular saw.

With a start, Jack realized it was Karen. Wearing goggles, overalls, a chambray s.h.i.+rt with the sleeves rolled up and a tool belt around her hips.

What had ever made him think this woman worked in day care or taught elementary school?

From her obvious confidence, he saw that she knew what she was doing. She looked as at home in overalls and a tool belt as she would holding a baby, a toddler tugging at her pant leg, and her with that same capable, confident look on her face.

He blinked the image away, wondering where it had come from. Babies? He'd avoided even the thought. The same way he'd avoided marriage.

The whine of the saw died off; part of the board dropped to the concrete, stirring up sawdust. Without the noise of the saw, he could hear the country music coming out of the stereo at the end of her workbench.

She put down the saw and dusted her hands on her overalls. She looked good in overalls. You couldn't say that about a lot women.

”You come to help or just watch?” she asked without turning around.

Startled, he couldn't think of anything to say. How had she known-? He watched her reach over to hit a switch. A red light next to the workbench stopped flas.h.i.+ng. The light. Well, that explained how she knew he was here. Or at least, someone was here.

”I had a feeling I'd be seeing you again,” she said, still not turning around.

She didn't sound too unhappy about it. He supposed that was something.

”I guess I don't have to ask what you're doing here,” he said.

”I told you I have work to do, an order that needs to go out by the end of the month, and I'm behind.”

He nodded as he moved closer. ”Responsibilities. People who depend on you.” He had the feeling that was only part of the reason she'd come here tonight. He'd tried to lose himself in physical work too many times not to see that.

”So, what are you working on?” He walked over to a completed pine hutch.

”Finis.h.i.+ng up a special order. That's part of it,” she said, pointing to the hutch.

He spun around in surprise to look at her. ”You designed and built this?” designed and built this?”

She pushed the goggles back on her head. ”You sound surprised.”

She could have knocked him over with a feather. He ran a hand over the baby-smooth surface of the hutch, admiring the simple and yet elegant lines. ”You do exceptional work and the design is...incredible.”

”I'd take that as a compliment if you didn't sound so shocked.”

”I'm just surprised,” he said, glancing over at her again. ”Surprised you're a...”

”Cabinetmaker,” she supplied for him.

”Right, a cabinetmaker, not surprised that you're so talented. I do a little woodworking myself, but nothing like this.”

”Please,” she said laughing, ”you're making me blush.”