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between the first row of foothills and the Front Range in a relatively isolated area.
    It was the perfect location for a family or anyone who wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and, after just a short drive, be surrounded by the beauty and ruggedness of the Rockies for an afternoon or evening’s entertainment. The fabricated small town embraced its western flavor. Main Street and two intersecting streets were lined with colorful Victorian-style buildings that housed restaurants, shops, and studios where artists showcased and sold their work. A lively assortment of kiddie rides sprawled to one side, and an alpine sled tubular track snaked up the side of a mountain behind the complex.
    Kate leaned her head back on the headrest and watched the activity. Everyone looked so happy, so carefree. She knew that couldn’t possibly be true. Beneath the smiles were men and women worried about jobs or house payments or cheating spouses. Everyone had problems. Everyone had fears. Possibly a few of them had seen someone get shot, or had even seen someone die at their feet.
    Twenty-four hours ago, she wouldn’t have thought it was possible for her to fall in that latter category. A shiver shook her so violently that she dropped her keys and had to fumble on the floorboard to find them. “Calm down,” she cautioned herself. “Take a deep breath.” She sucked in a lungful of the clean mountain air and slowly let it escape between her lips.
    It had been horrendous, but it was over. She had bundled up the ruined clothes and dropped them in a Dumpster behind a Target store miles from her apartment on her way to the Music Hall today. Luckily, the blond wig hadn’t sustained any damage, so she was able to slip it back into the wardrobe department, its brief absence never noticed. And she had safely hidden the hundred-dollar bill inside the purple Beanie Baby that sat on her pillow. All other evidence of last night’s events had been completely removed from her possession. All that were left were the memories.
    Suddenly, she was anxious to get back to her small, safe apartment. A bowl of soup, a good book, and an early night snuggled in her bed sounded like heaven. If only she’d done that last night instead of—
    Stop it. It wasn’t your fault. You’re going to get past it and everything will be okay.
God, she was talking to herself a lot lately. She shrugged and started the car. Well, she’d add that to her list of things she needed to worry about tomorrow. Tonight she needed sleep—deep, peaceful, dreamless sleep. Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen.

Chapter 3
    HERO REPORTER SAVES POLICE OFFICER IN SHOOTOUT.
    God, it couldn’t be a better headline if he’d written it. Oh, right, he had!
    Brian leaned back in his chair at the coffee shop and smiled at the newspaper spread out on the table in front of him. At least he was the one who had written the copy. His editor had added the headline and given him the front page, as promised.
    He sipped his coffee while he reread the words. He tried to be objective, but he couldn’t help but be proud. This was the piece that would give his stagnant career a jump-start. He’d already been given the go-ahead for a follow-up article on the cop, and maybe the hooker, if he could find her.
    The Denver Police Department was allowing him unprecedented access to the case. He’d met with the lead detective yesterday afternoon, and today he had an appointment with the cop at the hospital. The DPD took an attack on their own very seriously.
    And Brian was only too willing to stay involved and at the forefront of the investigation. Having a contact in the department would give him a head start on all the insider info. This was the lucky break he’d been waiting for. Well, maybe not all luck. As the old Roman philosopher said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” Brian had been struggling for years to be prepared. Now he was determined to make