Free Killer Headline by Debby Giusti

you get a name?”
    “No. Although we might be able to work out a deal if Violet can talk to someone in the U.S. Marshals office in Billings. She wants to get the informant into Witness Protection. I was hoping Micah would be available to meet with us.”
    “Any chance she’ll share more information if we can promise protection for her snitch?”
    “That’s what I’m hoping. I’m also hoping she’ll listen to Micah. My warnings haven’t penetrated her stubbornness yet.”
    “I’ll see what we can arrange,” Jackson said.
    “Violet mentioned Eloise.”
    “In what context?”
    “Who the Mafia might be looking for.”
    “Did she get that from her source or come up with it on her own?”
    “I have a feeling it was from the source. We know Salvatore wants Eloise to pay for sending him to jail.”
    Jackson grumbled. “What you did to Cameron Trimble is what I’d like to do to Salvatore. Only I wouldn’t want any cops around to pull me off the guy.”
    “I hear you.”
    “How many lives have been ruined because of him? How many people killed or living on the run?” Jacksonpulled air into his lungs. “Listen, you’re doing a good job with this reporter. I’ll talk to Micah and get back to you.”
    Clay hung up and poured another cup of coffee. He’d keep watch over Violet’s house to ensure the intruder or his buddies didn’t return tonight. The way his heart was racing, Clay couldn’t sleep. If he did nod off, he’d probably meet Violet in his dreams.
     
    Still affected by her earlier encounter with Clay, Violet put water on the stove to boil, hoping a cup of chamomile tea would calm her fluttering heart. While the water heated, she opened her cell phone and looked at the last incoming number. Though the hang-up call had come from a Chicago area code, if it was from a cell phone, the caller could be anywhere. Even Missoula.
    The kettle boiled. Violet poured water over the tea bag, inhaled the fresh herbal scent and, cup in hand, headed for her computer.
    She had work to do. Somehow, she needed to shove Clay and the hang-up call into the think-about-later portion of her brain. Slipping her flash drive into the USB port, she pulled up the photo she’d taken on her cell phone earlier today.
    The photo captured the woman’s face as she’d glanced back at Violet. Or was she looking at something else?
    Something or someone?
    Minimizing the photo, Violet checked her e-mail and felt a surge of euphoria when a brief message from Gwyn flashed on the screen.
     
    Are you online?
    No reason to make small talk. Violet typed the question that had been bothering her all night.
     
    Why’d you run away?
     
    Someone was following you, came the reply.
    Not the answer Violet had expected. She continued to read Gwyn’s answer.
     
    He looked familiar. Like a guy I’d seen in Chicago. Something about his build.
     
    Could she have run into Clay when he was working undercover? Violet quickly typed:
     
    Was it the undercover cop? The one who beat up Cameron Trimble?
     
    Gwyn answered:
     
    I don’t know the cop. What’s he look like? The guy I saw was muscular. He wore a hat so I’m not sure about his hair color.
     
    Violet hit the reply button.
     
    The undercover cop is—
     
    What could she say about Clay? Tall, muscular with eyes that sent shivers scurrying along her spine?
    Violet deleted the description and asked:
     
    Are you sure someone was following me?
    Gwyn: Definitely.
    Violet: Meet tomorrow?
    Gwyn: Can’t.
    Violet: When?
    Gwyn didn’t respond.
    Violet’s home phone rang. She glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. The number failed to appear on caller ID. Easy enough to block the information. “Kramer.”
    Silence.
    Violet glanced around her living room, glad she’d pulled the drapes. “Hello?”
    The sound of breathing caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise. The caller inhaled. Exhaled. Slowly. Deliberately.
    “Back off,” a male voice whispered. The same message as on the note