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.
“Were you expecting someone?” her ex-husband asked suspiciously.
She shook her head. “Stay here.” Turning away, she went to answer the door.
Jack Marshall felt as if he’d made yet another mistake. He’d stood in his office after the woman left, shaking with fury and something he hadn’t recognized at first—fear. He’d recognized Liz when she appeared in his office doorway—and she’d seen it. He’d seen it register on her expression.
Whitney’s friend had caught him flat-footed after the day he’d already had. He’d forgotten what he’d planned to say to her. But instead of admitting that he and Whitney Clark had an affair and split up, he’d gone with his standard line that came to his lips. He’d denied everything.
Liz hadn’t been fooled. She knew about him and Whitney, and now all he’d done was give her more fuel to come after him.
He’d always been so careful, so meticulous, so in control of every situation. But now his life was out of control and getting worse.
With a shock, he realized that he also hadn’t gotten Liz’s last name. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to find her. Just the thought had his body buzzing as his pulse drummed in his ears as if counting down the seconds while the woman was getting away.
He grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
Normally he wouldn’t have taken his own car, but nothing was normal anymore.
As he cleared the front door, he caught sight of the redhead driving away.
Rushing to his vehicle, he slid behind the wheel, cranked up the engine and followed her.
White-knuckled, he tried to talk himself out of what he was planning to do.
His cell phone rang. Christine? She never called him at work unless it was important. Had that lunatic of a woman Amy Sue Brand gone to her with her outrageous story? He tried to calm down before he took the hands-free call.
“Christine, is everything all right?”
“You forgot, didn’t you?” she chided cheerfully. “We were going to meet with the designer handling the remodel.”
He swore silently as he tried to keep the old car Liz was driving in sight. He couldn’t lose her as she headed south out of Billings. At least she hadn’t headed straight for the police.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I got busy. You don’t need my input anyway. It’s sweet that you want it, but you’re the one with the overall design in mind. I trust your good judgment.”
She chuckled. “You’re resorting to flattery? You aren’t getting out of it that easily. You can see the overall concept when you get home. You aren’t going to be late, are you?”
Was he? he wondered as Liz stayed on the interstate past Laurel. Where was she going? The next town was Park City, then Columbus. How far was he going to follow her?
Christine’s voice filled the car. “You’re going to be late, aren’t you. It’s all right. I know you have that big sale coming up. There is no hurry on these designs. Maybe at breakfast?”
“Definitely at breakfast,” he said quickly, glad to be off the hook. “Thanks for understanding.”
“I knew how ambitious you were when I married you. I love that about you. Wake me up if you get home before midnight, otherwise, I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He disconnected and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Liz’s blinker come on at Park City. He backed off just a little, since Park City was small enough he wasn’t going to lose her.
It gave him time to think about what he was going to do about this latest threat.
Amy Sue hadn’t been far behind the redhead. Fortunately, traffic on the interstate had been light. She’d had no trouble keeping the maroon-colored vehicle in sight. The redhead hadn’t driven fast, as if she, too, were mulling over her conversation with Marshall.
Following the woman down the interstate, Amy Sue had replayed what she’d overheard from the short conversation again and again.
Whitney Clark was missing. The redhead was worried about her friend who she believed had been having an affair with Jack Marshall. He’d denied it, nothing unusual about that, Amy Sue thought. The redhead had threatened to go to the police. But she hadn’t gone straight to the police station.
All Amy Sue could think about was the woman she’d seen murdered. Was it possible Whitney Clark was the woman Jack Marshall had killed that night at the construction site?
There was only one way to find out, she told herself as she took the off-ramp at Park City behind three other vehicles and followed the redhead to a small subdivision. The woman turned into a driveway in front of a modest house and got out.
She’d watched the redhead go inside her house before pulling to the curb behind a pickup out front. As she got out, she wondered what she was going to say. What if the woman slammed the door in her face?
She hardly noticed a large dark car drive past on down the street and stop in front of another house.
She expected to be turned away as she made her way to the front door and knocked.
No answer. She knocked again a little harder, and the door opened, giving Amy Sue her first good look at the redhead.
She was older than Amy Sue had originally thought.
There were dark circles under her green eyes and, along with sadness, there was a wariness in her expression.
Amy Sue said the first words that came out of her mouth. “I saw Jack Marshall kill a woman two weeks ago and I think it might have been your friend Whitney Clark.”
The woman looked as if she’d been slapped. She staggered back, grasping the door as if for support. “Is this some kind of bad joke?”
“I overheard you talking to Jack Marshall,” Amy Sue said quickly, stepping closer as the woman started to close the door.
Of course the redhead thought she was delusional.
“I saw how upset you were in the parking lot earlier,” she said rushing on.
“I followed you here to find out if Whitney Clark was the woman I saw murdered.”
“What’s going on?” demanded a man’s voice from deeper in the house. She heard heavy footfalls headed in her direction.
“It has nothing to do with you, Robert,” the woman called as she turned to look over her shoulder as the gangly man appeared.
But Amy Sue only got a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze was on a table in the entryway covered with an assortment of framed photographs, one in particular catching her eye.
“That’s her,” she exclaimed, tears burning her eyes. She’d thought she’d never know the woman’s name, let alone prove she was dead. “That’s the woman I saw Jack Marshall murder.”