Page 28 of Lawman’s Witness

He couldn’t help himself. He admired the hell out of her, but he feared they were both making a mistake going after Jack Marshall. With him, it would mean his job. With Amy Sue, she was playing Russian roulette with her life.

It was late, long past quitting time. Russ rubbed his temples as he leaned back from his computer. The office was nearly empty this time of the night. Only a few officers on duty, most of them out patrolling. What was he still doing here?

He sat forward again and kept looking for something in Jack Marshall’s past. A red flag of some kind. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if Jack Marshall killed a woman that night and Amy Sue witnessed it, then that wasn’t his first time. It was too well planned. The alibi, getting rid of the body, making sure there was not even a sign of a confrontation wasn’t luck. It was due to planning and practice. It nagged at Russ. Jack Marshall had killed before and gotten away with it.

Except Russ refused to believe there was a perfect murder. Amy Sue accidentally being at the scene and witnessing the murder proved that. This couldn’t have been his first brush with the law. If there was evidence that was missing in his past, Russ was determined to find it.

Amy Sue sat in her car, engine running, in front of Jack Marshall Auto, unsure what—if anything—to do next. What had she accomplished by all of this? Nothing. Just how far was she willing to push this man knowing what he was capable of doing?

Pondering that question, she noticed a woman with short red hair get out of her older-model vehicle. The redhead stood for a moment as if as unsure as Amy Sue felt, except this woman was nervous, almost scared. For a moment, the redhead looked as if she was going to climb back into her car and drive away.

But apparently a decision made, she straightened and stalked toward the showroom door, hitching up the strap of her large purse as she went. Amy Sue watched her, curious. The woman didn’t appear to be here to buy a new car. She seemed jumpy and tentative as she pushed open the door and entered the building.

Something about the woman’s behavior had Amy Sue opening her door and following her. At the entrance, she hesitated, then slipped in, determined not to see Jack Marshall again if she could help it. Worse, she didn’t want him to see her.

When she spotted the redhead marching toward Marshall’s office, she wondered if she could be another of the mistresses. She definitely seemed upset as she approached the office’s open door and came to an abrupt halt.

Amy Sue moved so she could see past the redhead into the fairly large room. Marshall was at his huge desk. He hadn’t seen the woman. Or at least he hadn’t reacted to her. He seemed to be engrossed in the paperwork on his desk.

“Jack Marshall?” The woman’s voice broke.

When he looked in the redhead’s direction, Amy Sue stepped back out of sight but not before she’d seen his surprised expression. Marshall knew her, and he wasn’t happy to see her.

The moment the redhead stepped a few feet into the office, blocking Marshall’s view past her, Amy Sue quickly moved to the side of the office door without all the windows so she could hear what was being said without being seen.

She heard him say, “Can I help you?” and the redhead answered, “I’m here about Whitney Clark.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name,” the car dealer said.

The woman’s next words were so quiet that Amy Sue barely made them out. “I know about the two of you.”

“Like I said, I don’t know—”

“Please, I need to find her and make sure she’s all right. If you can just tell me where she is. Is she at the house you bought her?” He started to say something, but she stopped him with, “Don’t lie. I know about the two of you.”

Marshall was on his feet, moving to step past her as if to close the door. “You’re mistaken, but please come in and have a seat.”

Before he reached the door, the redhead turned as if to leave and blocking him from closing her in. She turned back so quickly he almost crashed into her. This time when the woman spoke there was nothing timid about her tone. “I know you lied to her about the divorce and probably everything else, but you can’t lie to me. I know. If I don’t hear from her soon, I’m going to the police.” With that, she walked out, looking unsteady on her feet.

With a loud crack, Marshall grabbed the door and slammed it hard. Amy Sue stood frozen for a few seconds, shocked by what she’d heard, before she hurriedly followed the redhead out of the building and into the parking lot. Her mind was whirling. Was Whitney Clark who she thought it was?

She’d hoped to catch the redhead before she left, but the woman was already behind the wheel and pulling away. Amy Sue rushed to her SUV and followed her, keeping the car in sight as they left the city.

If she was right, she now knew the name of the murdered woman.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Liz had known the man would lie, but she was still shocked that he would do it to her face. She’d never been so angry or upset or worried sick. She kept thinking of the rented house where Whitney had lived and the mess she’d found. She’d known her friend since college. There wasn’t any way Whitney would have left such a mess. She liked things neat and organized, and she valued what little she had. The mess she’d found was Jack Marshall’s doing. Liz was sure of it. She’d seen him leaving the house in that old car and dressed in disguise. But she’d had no problem recognizing him from his stupid commercials. Had he hoped that by making that mess, anyone looking for Whitney would think she left in a hurry?

By the time she drove to Park City, some miles from Billings, she had calmed down a little until she saw her ex-husband’s pickup parked out in front of the house they’d shared. What was he doing here? She was in no mood for another argument with him, she thought as she got out of her car and headed for the door. She was too upset to even register the SUV that had turned down her street—or the car that turned behind it a few moments later.

“Robert?” Liz called as she pushed open the door, stepping in to kick off her shoes. “Robert?”

He came out of the kitchen looking sheepish. “I thought you didn’t get off work until five. I got here early planning to wait for you.”

“I took a sick day,” she said, seeing what he had in his hand. “You out of beer at your trailer?” she asked, stepping past him hoping he’d at least left a bottle for her. “What are you doing here?” she demanded as she opened the refrigerator and began digging around inside it.

Before he had a chance to answer, there was a knock at the door. It startled them both. They shot each other a questioning gaze. The next knock was more insistent.