What Janie Saw. Pamela Tracy

type to skip?”

      “No.” Rafe eyed Janie and Katie. “I don’t think that at all.” Katie couldn’t run, not in her condition, and while Janie was the type, she only ran when she felt no one was listening to her.

      Well, if what she’d found was a true account of a murder, she’d have plenty of people willing to listen to her. Too bad it wasn’t Katie who’d read the art book. Solid, businesslike and driven, Katie would be the kind of witness cops dreamed about.

      Janie, on the other hand, was flighty, whimsical and always believed the grass was greener on the other side. She acted and spoke without much forethought and a bit rashly.

      Rafe said to Nathan, “I intend to be involved in every step of this new lead. So, along with you, I’m Janie’s new best friend.”

      Janie raised one eyebrow and looked askance at her sister.

      Actually, Rafe had a home-court advantage over Nathan. He might not be Janie’s best friend, but he knew her fairly well. He knew things like she only enjoyed coffee if she had French-vanilla creamer to add to it. That she could sit at a table at the Corner Diner and draw for an hour without being aware of anything that was going on about her. That if the very pregnant waitress happened to serve Janie, Janie tripled the tip.

      His mother, Lucille, owned the diner and had noticed these traits first. She’d passed every observation on to Rafe, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

      Mom had been playing matchmaker for Rafe over a decade now. She wasn’t very good at it, though admittedly, he’d always found both sisters intriguing. Katie Rittenhouse played with tigers. Janie Vincent painted them from a safe distance. Though the scar on the left side of her face indicated that hadn’t always been true.

      “Is there something I should be aware of?” Nathan asked. “She ever been in trouble?”

      Rafe had twice been called out to Bridget’s Animal Adventure, the animal habitat Janie’s big sister and husband managed, and where Janie spent much of her time. Once, he’d investigated the plight of two tiny bears, declawed and abandoned. On the second instance, he’d had to make sure the big cats were all accounted for, as there’d been a sighting in town. The cougars, leopards and mountain lions at BAA were all in their enclosures. Rafe never did find out whether it had been an actual sighting or whether someone in Scorpion Ridge owned a very large black domestic cat.

      “No, she’s never caused me any trouble,” Rafe said.

      It was a lie.

      Janie Vincent had caused him trouble, but it was not the kind that made its way into a police report. No, it was the kind that messed with a man’s mind.

      During the large-black-cat incident, he’d asked Janie out. He’d not been concerned about a conflict of interest because he’d been sure by then that the case was merely mistaken identity.

      They’d gone out once, but he hadn’t called her for a second date.

      It had been clear from the start that they were too different—she was a free spirit; he was rules and realistic.

      He’d also very clearly gotten the sense that Janie didn’t have much use for cops, and that she’d only gone on the date to appease her sister.

      “As a matter of fact,” Rafe continued, “she just walked into my office. Seems she wants to help.”

      He wasn’t exactly sure want was the right word. More likely felt obligated to help was a better choice.

      Nathan muttered a few choice expletives, all having to do with her being there and not in Adobe Hills.

      Looking across his desk at the pretty woman in question, as she so impatiently held herself in check, Rafe thought maybe he’d been an idiot not to call her again.

      “Okay, it’s good she’s there,” Nathan finally said. “But please see that she gets here, and soon. I don’t want her to forget anything. Apparently Brittney’s name and her death were chronicled in that art book. I want to know what it said, every detail.”

      “I want to see this art book—” Rafe said.

      Janie shook her head.

      Rafe started to protest, but Nathan, still on the phone, gave a long sigh before saying in a tight voice, “This whole thing’s turned into a mess, which is why I need your help. Campus police locked the book up last night after Janie’s boss handed it over to them,” Nathan said. “Patricia, along with the dean of students and the campus police, opened the safe this morning. Then, they called me.”

      “And—”

      But before Rafe could ask his question, Nathan said, “It’s gone.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      NOW RAFE UNDERSTOOD why Janie and her sister had scurried to his office—bypassing the officer on duty. With the art book missing, Janie and her boss were the only people who had read an alleged murder confession. If Derek Chaney had changed his mind about wanting to confess, then he’d be sweating bullets about now, and Janie might be where he’d aim those bullets.

      Rafe couldn’t cancel his court date, but now, returning the phone calls and the visit to the correctional facility would no longer be his top priority.

      Today, Rafe would be spending time with Janie, lots of time.

      “Did the campus cop who put the art book in the safe discover it missing, or was it a different campus cop?” Rafe asked.

      “Same cop.”

      “Did he happen to admit to looking at the art book?”

      “He glanced at the first couple of pages, but not the whole thing. It was late and there’d been a report of someone trying to break into parked cars on campus. He wanted to keep his eye on the monitors. Still, he filled out the report, so he knew what was in it.”

      “Why didn’t they contact the police last night?”

      Across from him, Janie—ever the teacher—raised her hand. Rafe bit back a wry smile.

      “The confession is in Derek’s personal art book,” Janie burst out. “His art book! It’s supposed to contain thumbnail sketches and ideas for the project he was working on. I thought—hoped—he’d decided to write some sort of graphic novel. We had some doubt as to whether it was fact or fiction. Patricia Reynolds, the chair of my department, was going to notify the dean this morning and see what he wanted to do.”

      “Hear that?” Rafe said into the phone.

      “The dean called us just after eight this morning,” Nathan affirmed. “Our guy arrived at twenty after. He was there when they opened the safe.”

      Rafe looked across the desk at Janie. “How did you find out the art book had gone missing?”

      “The dean called me.”

      Turning his attention back to the phone, Rafe asked, “What does Patricia Reynolds think of all this?”

      Nate answered, “She’s coming to the station this afternoon to make a statement and try to recreate what she read. She admits, though, that she only scanned the first page then flipped to the last. Once she saw Brittney’s name, both she and Miss Vincent headed straight to campus police. Apparently there was quite a bit more to the art book, though, at least six pages.”

      Rafe could only frown and stare across his desk at Janie. “How much did you see?”

      “About six or seven pages. Only four pages had to do with Brittney.”

      Was there anything after that? Anything you didn’t read?”

      “Not sure, but I don’t think so.”

      “What’s your gut feeling?” he asked. “Does the art book show fact or fiction?”

      Her sister squeezed Janie’s hand.