Free Connecting Rooms by Jayne Ann Krentz

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.”
    •  •  •
    Amy listened to the silence from the adjoining room for a long time before she couldn’t stand it any longer. She could almost hear Owen’s brain grinding away in solitude.
    It struck her that he had probably spent a lot of his life alone. The very nature of his chosen profession indicated that he was accustomed to relying solely onhimself. There was a core of strength in Owen Sweet that rarely developed in those who relied on other people.
    He possessed an old-fashioned, Wild West sort of character, she thought. He was the kind of man who, a century earlier, would have ridden into town alone, cleaned out the bad guys, and then left without a backward glance.
    She pushed aside the covers, got out of bed, and padded to the closed door that linked the two rooms. She put her ear against the wooden panel and listened. Still no sound. But she was certain that he was not asleep.
    She knocked once, very softly. Owen opened the door immediately.
    Almost as if he had been waiting for her.
    She smiled tremulously up at him. “You’re not in bed.”
    “I’m thinking.”
    “I know.” She shivered. “I can’t sleep, either. I keep seeing those headlights coming straight toward us.”
    “Amy.” He drew her into his arms. “I’m