Page 44 of Lawman’s Witness

“You said yourself he can’t afford anymore dead bodies. I thought you might want to come with me.”

She thought of Russ and the trip to the ranch and how badly she wanted it, needed it. “I still think this is a terrible idea, but if I can’t talk you out of it—”

“You can’t,” Liz said emphatically.

“Then I can’t let you go alone.” She told herself that this wouldn’t take long. Christine might not even be home. She probably wouldn’t let them into the house. Even if she did and they had their say, the woman would either throw them out or call the cops. Fifteen to twenty minutes tops, she told herself.

As soon as she disconnected, she called Russ. She knew he would try to talk her out of it, but she wanted someone to know where they were going in case there was trouble.

“Bad idea,” he said the moment he heard Liz’s plan. “Let’s not forget that she gave him an alibi for when Liz’s husband was killed.”

“I know, but I can’t let Liz go alone.”

“I’ll come with you,” Russ said.

“A worse idea all things considered,” she told him. “You know she won’t talk freely with you there. Liz is going to go no matter what I do, and I don’t think it will take long.”

“How do you know Marshall won’t be there or show up?”

She didn’t. “Christine might not even be home,” she said. “I’ll call you as soon as we’re done.”

“I’m going to wait for you down the street,” Russ said. “Things go south I can be there within a few minutes. Call me before you go into the house and keep me connected so I can hear what’s being said.”

His worry made hers increase. “I’m meeting Liz at the house now.”

Jack felt as if the storm had passed and he could breathe again. Nothing had come of Detective Russell Tate’s visit to his house. Jack was still married, still had his business, still was a free man. Milt must have taken care of it, or the cops didn’t have any evidence and couldn’t tie him to Robert Baker, let alone Whitney Clark.

He was in the clear, and it felt good. For a while, he’d worried that this was never going to blow over. He’d panicked when there was no need. He was out fifty thousand dollars, but that was peanuts in the grand scheme of things. It irked him that he’d let her blackmail him, but he’d run out of alternatives. He wouldn’t always be in such a tight position. Once he knew he was safe and enough time had passed, he would take care of Liz.

His only concern was his wife. Christine had already been worried about him before the detective had shown up to bust his chops. If she confronted him when he went home tonight, he’d deny everything. He couldn’t ever let her know about any of this, or he feared he would lose her.

She wasn’t at the dealership. Liz had been bluffing. He ground his teeth, thinking about what he’d do to her one day soon.

But he was more worried about keeping his wife. He’d already decided that he would change. No more women on the side. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was for the best. At least for a while. He’d be the perfect husband. He’d take an interest in the remodeling Christine was doing, even that ridiculous “safe room” she was having installed off the living room. He’d even go home at a decent time each night—not even working late.

When his cell rang, he thought it might be his wife. He braced himself but was surprised to see the call was from the chief of police. “Milt? What can I do for you?” he said cheerfully, promising himself that he’d make it up to the man big-time when this was over.

“I just wanted to give you a heads-up,” the chief said.

Something in the man’s tone warned him. “Why, what’s up?” he asked, his good mood dissipating like smoke. His heart was already pounding so hard he thought he might have an anxiety attack.

“That detective, Tate, I don’t think he’s going to stop. I suspended him, but he’s compiled quite a lot of information about you and the night of the murder. It’s all circumstantial at this point, but…it doesn’t look good, Jack. Is there anything you want to tell me? You know I’ll try to protect you as much as I can but—”

“There’s nothing to tell, Milt. All this is ridiculous. It will blow over. Like you said, it’s all circumstantial. You know me.”

“Yeah,” the chief agreed. “It seems pretty ridiculous to me, but—”

“It is ridiculous. Don’t worry about it. I’m certainly not. I appreciate you calling, though. You have always looked out for me and my business. You’re a good friend. I’ll make it up to you this summer in my new boat up at Fort Peck Lake. We just need to catch some really big walleyes and laugh about all of this.”

“Sure,” Milt said, but not sounding all that enthusiastic.

“Thanks again for calling.” He disconnected and put down his phone on his desk, his hand shaking. Had some new information come to light? Or was it just everything piling up, since between Detective Tate and Amy Sue Brand, the cops now had the name of the missing—and possibly murdered—woman.

He rued the day he’d seen Whitney standing beside the road with her thumb out. If he hadn’t stopped… He put his head into his hands and tried to assure himself that he would get through this.

When his cell rang yet again, he jumped, half afraid it was Milt calling back to say cops were on their way to arrest him. It was a relief to see that it was Christine. He hesitated, not wanting to talk to her right now. He was still upset after Milt’s call.

But she seldom called him at work, so he knew it must be important. He picked up.