Part 36 (2/2)
She shook her head. ”I need some s.p.a.ce right now.”
”I'll make other arrangements for your protection then,” he said. His voice had lost the warm drawl and was clipped. She looked into his eyes and saw a flicker of something like hurt.
Better that, she told herself, than to have his death on her conscience as well as the others'.
Still, the chill had crawled back into her heart.
'BISBEE'.
Doug Menelo slammed down the phone in frustration. No record of an Elizabeth Baker.
She'd said she was from Chicago, but he had neither her address nor the name of her deceased husband. He hadn't realized until he started searching that she had never once mentioned the first name of her husband.
Still, he ran a check on her. There were any number of Elizabeth Bakers but none that fit what he knew about her. No traffic tickets in Illinois. No arrests.
He searched recent deaths in Illinois for a male with the last name of Baker. He found a number of them but none with a wife named Elizabeth.
He then turned to the driver's license bureau in Illinois. There were numerous Elizabeth Bakers, including ten in the Chicago area, and three with a birth date that would equate with hers. He found the addresses and called. All were at home.
He tried Arizona. She had not applied recently for an Arizona license, but she still had time to do that.
The lack of information only piqued his curiosity further.
He checked missing children bulletins, mainly custodial kidnappings again. Nothing in the past two months fit Liz and her son.
An overactive imagination on his part?
He looked at his watch. Four P.M.
He didn't usually force his company on women. He knew he was no matinee idol. But his gut was telling him something. He prided himself on being a good judge of character. And Elizabeth had a sweetness and shyness that couldn't be disguised or feigned. She was also afraid. He hadn't missed that, either.
He was a sucker for a damsel in distress. But he couldn't help unless he understood the reason for her fear.
He decided to try Marty and headed for Special Things.
Marty welcomed him. ”Hi.”
”Hi yourself.”
This part was going to be more difficult. He had established a good relations.h.i.+p with most of the merchants. Marty was on the town council and one of his greatest supporters. She was also a firm believer in an individual's privacy. She had protected many of the town's more eccentric citizens when others wanted them invited to leave because they might annoy tourists.
She looked at him closely. ”This isn't a social visit.”
”Not exactly.”
”And you're not happy about it.”
”You didn't tell me you were psychic.”
She grinned. ”I don't tell you everything.”
”What do you know about Liz?” he asked abruptly.
The smile left her face. ”Not much. Only that I like her.”
”I do, too.”
”Then...”
”Has she said anything about her husband to you?”
”No.”
”Would you tell me if she had?”
”No.”
He smiled at that, but it didn't deter him. ”She's afraid of something.”
Marty didn't reply.
”She might need help.”
”Then she'll ask for it.”
”You're a hard woman, Marty.”
”I'm an old softie and you know it.”
He sighed. ”I won't hurt her.”
”You may not intend to.”
”You're right.”
”Have you been asking questions?”
He nodded. ”But in such a way it shouldn't attract attention.”
”Good.”
”Keep an eye on her,” he said.
”I will.”
Frustrated, he went down the street to a restaurant, where he ordered two large pizzas. He looked at his watch. Hopefully, Liz and her son hadn't eaten yet.
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