“Some people have no sense of propriety,” Madeline said coolly.
“Some people have all the luck,” Raymond drawled.
The sound of footsteps on gravel receded into the distance. Owen waited until he was sure Madeline and Raymond were gone and then raised his head. He looked down at Amy, aware that his pulse was still beating heavily and his insides were clenched.
Amy regarded him with eyes that were pools of unfathomable promise. Her lips were still slightly parted.
Owen thought optimistically of the connecting rooms that awaited them back at the Inn. He took a deep breath and released Amy. “We’ll get back to this a little later.”
“We will?” She sounded pleased.
“First things first,” he said manfully. “I want to check out the library’s back door.”
He took her hand and started around the building. There were no tall lamps in the drive behind the library. The only light was from the moon and a weak yellow bulb set above the library’s service entrance. A row of city utility trucks was lined up on the far side of the drive. The graveled area apparently served as a parking lot for Villantry’s service vehicles.
“Why are we going to look at the back door of the library?” Amy asked.
“Because I like to know all the entrances and exits in a situation such as this. I wouldn’t be surprised if the next blackmail note Crabshaw gets instructs him to make the payment tomorrow night.”
“During the dedication festivities?” Amy glanced at him in surprise as she hurried to keep pace with him. “Why then?”
“Think about it. The library will be swarming with people. That means there will be a steady stream of traffic in and out of the restrooms. Perfect cover for the blackmailer.”
“I get it,” Amy said enthusiastically. “You’re going to stake out the men’s room, right?”
“Right. I’ll bet you can see now why I became a big-time private eye.”
“Because of the thrilling excitement?”
“Just think about it. Staking out a men’s room. Got to be the fulfillment of every young man’s dreams of swashbuckling adventure.”
“Yes, of course. I envy you.”
“From what you’ve told me, real estate has its moments, too.”
“Don’t remind me.” Amy smiled briefly. Then she frowned in the shadows. “But, Owen, I don’t see how you can be so certain that the note—” She broke off suddenly as one of the city trucks roared to life. “What in the world?”
Across the drive, a set of headlights flashed on at full beam, blinding Owen. He realized that he and Amy were pinned in the glare. And to think he had accused Amy of looking like a deer caught in headlights. This was the real thing, Owen thought. He couldn’t see what was happening. But he could hear all too well.
Tires screeched as the big vehicle shot forward. The truck bore down on Owen and Amy with deadly intent.
Chapter 7
Amy had barely registered the blinding light when she heard Owen suck in his breath.
“Damn,” he whispered.
In the next instant she felt his arm wrap around her waist with the force of a steel band. He lifted her off her feet and hauled her up the three steps that led to the library’s back entrance.
The truck engine thundered.
“Owen.”
“In here. Move. He may have a gun.”
Owen half-pulled, half-carried her into the shadows of the small alcove that concealed the doorway. Then he shoved her hard against the stone wall and held her there. She gasped for breath, dimly aware that he was shielding her with his body.
The city truck came so close to the steps that Amy was almost convinced it would plow straight through the back door of the library.
But at the last possible instant, it veered aside. With an angry howl it lumbered off into the night, a ravenous beast deprived of its prey.
Owen did not move as the sound of the truck engine receded into the darkness. Amy was pressed so tightly against the cold stone she could feel the grit on her cheek.
“You okay?” Owen finally asked. His voice was curiously flat.
“Yes. I think so.”
He slowly stepped back, releasing her. “Son of a bitch.” There was no emotion in the phrase. “He was aiming for us. You could have been hurt. Killed.”
Amy hugged herself. The unnaturally even tone in Owen’s voice was somehow more frightening than the near miss. This was a whole new side to the man. A dangerous side.
“An accident,” she said, grasping for a more reasonable explanation than the one Owen had concocted. “Some kid taking a joyride in a city truck.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it. I have a hunch that it was attempted murder.”
Amy was dazed. “You think that the blackmailer was behind the wheel?”
“I think there’s a very high probability of that, yes.”
“But how could he know that you’re a threat to him? As far as everyone in town is concerned, you’re just my fiancé.”
“My guess is that he doesn’t know I’m out to trap him,” Owen said quietly. “It’s more likely that he’s figured out that I took Crabshaw’s money before he could get to it. I told you that I thought he was in the library yesterday, watching the payoff. He saw me go into the restroom after Crabshaw left. And when he went to make the pickup there was no envelope.”
“So he leaped to the conclusion that you had gotten to it ahead of him. But following that logic, how does he think you learned of the payoffs and where they were made?”
Owen frowned. “Maybe he figures that I accidentally discovered the envelope. Or he may think that Crabshaw confided in me. Who knows? He probably believes that you and I are in this together.”
“Perhaps he was simply trying to frighten us away from Villantry,” Amy suggested slowly.
“It’s possible that was his goal.” Owen took her hand.
“Where are we going?”
“To wake the local chief of police.”
Amy instantly dug in her heels. “But, Owen, if you tell him about this, you’ll have to tell him everything. I don’t want to betray Arthur’s confidence unless we must.”
“Don’t worry. I’m a professional, remember? I know how to talk to a cop.”
Amy looked at him. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t ask. It’s a trade secret.”
• • •
“Some joyridin’ kid, no doubt.” George P. Hawkins, chief of police of Villantry, poured himself a cup of coffee.