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•••
“What a rude man,” Amy said as they walked into the Inn lobby a short while later.
“Hawkins is a cop,” Owen said with a surprisingly philosophical air. “Rudeness is a job requirement.”
“I fail to see why.”
“You wouldn’t if you ever took a job as a cop.”
The front desk clerk, a thin young man with thick glasses, smiled tentatively at Owen. “Mr. Sweet, there’s a message for you. From Arthur Crabshaw. He wants you to call him.”
“Thanks.” Owen paused at the front desk to collect the slip of paper.
Amy was aware of the tension in his hand as he guided her toward the stairs. She said nothing as they walked up the one flight to their rooms. When they started down the hall, she slanted a questioning glance at Owen’s set face.
“What is it?”
“I won’t know for sure until I return Crabshaw’s call. But I can make a guess.”
“Oh, my God, you don’t think—”
“Shush.” Owen opened the door of her room and ushered her inside.
Amy turned, expecting him to go next door to his own room. Instead, he stepped through her door and closed it behind him. She raised her brows.
Owen smiled faintly as he switched on a light. “No point being coy, is there? We’re supposed to be engaged. Hell, even the local chief of police knows we’ve got connecting rooms.”
Amy flushed. “Yes, I know, but—”
“When you go undercover, you’ve got to make it look real or it won’t work.”
“I keep forgetting you’re the professional here,” Amy muttered.
“I’ve noticed.” He went to the table, picked up the phone, and dialed the number on the slip of paper.
“Arthur? This is Owen Sweet. Yeah, I got your message. What’s up?” Owen fell silent, listening for a moment. “I hear you. Calm down.”
Amy watched anxiously.
“Right. Tomorrow night,” Owen said. “Just as I thought. Follow instructions exactly. We’re going to nail the bastard this time. I’m not in the mood to give him any more rope. He just tried to run us down. No, I’m not joking. Amy could have been killed.” Owen paused. “Yes, I’m sure it was him. A kid? That’s what Amy thinks, too, but I’m not a great believer in coincidences.”
Amy waited until he had hung up the phone. “Another blackmail note?”
Owen nodded. “Arthur says it arrived earlier this evening. He’s to leave the money in the library restroom tomorrow night.”
“Just as you suspected.” Amy was impressed. “But why would the blackmailer use the same location over and over again?”
“He probably can’t think of a safer place. The restroom is still the one spot where any man in town can be seen with no questions asked. And as I told you, it will be busier than usual tomorrow night because of the crowd.”
Amy nibbled thoughtfully on her lower lip. “If the blackmailer suspects that you know about the payoffs, he’ll be nervous when he sees you at the dedication ceremonies tomorrow evening.”
“Not necessarily. He realizes that although he knows who I am, I don’t know who he is. He can go in and out of the men’s room just as freely as I or any other man in the crowd can. But he won’t take any chances this time. He’ll make it a point to get in there right after Crabshaw. He won’t know that I know about the drop-off. He’ll think it’s safe to go in as soon as he can.”
“Before you have a chance to grab the money?”
“Right.”
•••
