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five o'clock shadow is gone but the
chiseled jaw is still strong, and I don't see as much sadness in
his chocolate brown eyes as that night at the hotel in Casper. His
jacket is stretched almost to busting across his broad shoulders
and his tie is skewed like he has been tugging on it. Put him in
boots and jeans with a Stetson and he could be the star in one of
those old western movies I used to see on late night television
when I was a little girl.
    I smile tremulously at Jacob, "Thank you for
coming Mr. Murray. I really didn't know what I was going to
do."
    Jacob indicates the chair across from him
stating, "Call me Jacob. We're friends after all. Why don't you
start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened. Don't
leave anything out."
    I am confused so I ask, "I don't understand.
Are you a lawyer?"
    Jacob nods, "Yeah, I am ... a very good one
in fact. Lucky break for you," he replies with a broad grin on his
face.
    My heart skips a beat when I see the smile
cross his face. Wow! He is so hot when he smiles! I feel a slow
smile slide across my face in response. "How's Dani? Did she
recover from her ordeal at the truck stop?"
    Smiling warmly, Jacob replies, "Dani's doing
great. At least I don't think she has any lasting effects this
time. She wanted to thank you herself and was disappointed when we
couldn't find you. The gentleman at the desk said you had checked
out earlier. Thank you again for taking care of Dani. You made
quite an impression on her. She doesn't trust strangers
easily."
    I nod and take a deep breath before
continuing, "She told me about the accident and her fear of
policemen. I'm sorry for your loss. I'm glad Dani is okay. She is a
sweet little girl."
    I pause for a few seconds, take another deep
breath then start my story. "Well, from the time I pulled away from
the hotel in Casper that morning, I had a feeling I was being
followed. It took several days for me to identify the vehicles that
kept showing up everywhere I stopped. I am pretty sure it was two
different ones.
    "One was an old blue pickup, Chevrolet, I
think, probably a 1970's model. The driver was a scraggly looking
guy, long hair, beard, but I couldn't manage to get a good look at
him. I just had an eerie feeling that I knew him. He turned out to
be Frank Gibbons. The other car was a dark four door sedan with
really dark tinted windows. The driver was clean cut, dangerous
looking. I am reasonably sure I have never met him. They kept
showing up everywhere I stopped for almost three weeks staying just
far enough away that I couldn't get a good look at either one of
them."
    A sharp knock sounds at the door and the
sheriff sticks his head in and says, "I thought you would want to
know, the ballistics report just came back, the bullet that killed
Frank Gibbons matches the gun registered to Ms. Bowen that was
found at the scene."
    Jacob responds, "Thanks, Bill."
    As his gaze travels back to Jana he notes all
of the color has drained from her face and her breathing is shallow
and fast. She looks panicked. He reaches out and takes her hand.
Unexpectedly, the charge streaks up his arm again. He takes a deep
breath, steeling himself against the feeling, and reassures, "Jana,
it's going to be okay. We are going to beat this."
    I am shaking my head ... my heart is pounding
with fear. "No, you don't understand. They are going to say I had a
motive to kill Frank, and I did!"
    Cautiously Jacob asks "Did what?" His heart
speeds up and his nerves are on edge.
    "Have a motive! But I didn't shoot him! I
swear!" Please God, let him believe
me!
    Jacob sighs with relief and nods his head in
understanding, "All right, let's go back to when and where you knew
Frank Gibbons."
    I tell him everything. I start with my
divorce and how lonely I had been when I first met Frank. I told
him how Frank had been clean cut then, nice looking, seemingly hard
working and charismatic. I explained how he had swept me off my
feet ... how he talked me out of my money, then