In the note, Lefty had warned Andy to keep whatever was going on between them a secret. Andy had certainly complied with that request, at least as far as Joanna was concerned, she thought angrily, but someone else must have guessed or found out. Whoever that person was, Joanna was convinced he was responsible not only for Lefty O’Toole’s murder but for Andy’s as well.

It wasn’t until the third reading that the name “York” registered. Andy and Lefty had been planning to go to York. That would have to be Adam York with the DEA. Who else could it be? But why, Joanna wondered. Were they going to tell York something about someone else, or was York himself the source of the problem? The DEA agent’s attitude toward her had been a puzzle from the start. What could explain his antagonistic suspicion of her when Joanna knew she had done nothing wrong?

Sitting there, she tried to remember what had happened in each of her encounters with the man. What if he was the one who was actually behind all this and his questions about possible insurance fraud were only a device to throw suspicion in someone else’s direction. He had been with her at the Arizona Inn at the exact moment of Andy’s death, but he had also been lurking around the waiting room off and on all morning. It would have been simple for him to alert an accomplice that Joanna was leaving for a time, thus clearing the field for the real killer, the man with the gold in his teeth.

So what did an ordinary citizen do if they suspected a federal peace officer of wrongdoing? Did you go to the local authorities, someone you knew and trusted like Walter McFadden or Ken Galloway? Did you tell them what you knew and hand over your evidence, or did you go looking for someone else, someone further up the DEA chain of command and report your suspicions to him?

Regardless, Joanna knew there was nothing to be done about it tonight, and until she chose a definite course of action, it was important that Lefty’s letter, a vital piece of evidence, be kept in a safe place. Her first instinct was to lock it away in the desk drawer along with the gun, but that seemed too obvious. Besides, even with the desk locked, she wasn’t sure it would be safe from Eleanor’s prying eyes. In the end, she took the only reasonable course of action and placed the carefully folded paper in the side pocket of her purse.

Then, she picked up the address book once more. No matter how much it hurt, it was time to find out. For years she and Andy had argued over his unorthodox filing system. They kept separate address books because he, with-out a truly bureaucratic mentality, kept things filed under first names rather than last. With trembling fingers, she turned to the “C” page, and there it was, at the very bottom, the single name Cora with two phone numbers, both with Nevada prefixes.

Fighting back tears, Joanna copied them onto a note pad she carried in her purse. She was just fastening the purse shut when the phone on Andy’s night stand rang shrilly. The noise startled her, and she jumped involuntarily before picking up the receiver. “Hello.”

There was a slight pause. For a moment Joanna thought it might be a crank call with no one on the line, but then a woman spoke. “Joanna Brady?” the caller asked hesitantly, speaking in little more than an exaggerated whisper.

Joanna strained to hear, trying to recognize if the voice belonged to someone she knew. “Yes,” she answered. “This is Joanna. Who’s this?”

“You don’t know me,” the woman replied, “hut I need to talk to you about your husband.”

Instantly Joanna’s whole body went on full red alert. Here was a strange woman who wanted to talk to her about Andy. The voice sounded young and undeniably sexy. Could this be the same woman Sandra Henning had told her about, the one who had come into the bank, hanging on Andy’s arm and counting out all that money?

“What’s your name?” Joanna asked.

“Tammy Sue Ferris,” the woman said, this time with no hesitation whatsoever.

Sure it is, Joanna thought, but if this was Cora, it was probably better not to accuse her of lying, not just yet. “What about my husband?” Joanna asked guardedly.

“I believe I know who killed him,” Tammy Sue answered.

Not trusting her ears, Joanna couldn’t stifle a sharp intake of breath. “What did you say?”

“I said I think I know who killed him,” Tammy Sue replied. “In the hospital.”

A storm of questions roared through Joanna’s head. “Who is it?” she demanded. “And how do you know about that? Do you work in the hospital? Are you a nurse? Have you talked to the police?”

“I can’t go to the police.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I do and Tony finds out, he’ll kill me.”

“Who’s Tony?”

“The man who killed your husband, Mrs. Brady”

The killer had a name and this woman knew it? Tell me who he is. How do you know he did it? Did you see him?”

“Not personally, but I know he did.”

“You’ve got to talk to the police,” Joanna insisted. “Where are you? I’ll call and have someone come talk to you right away.”

“No, please. No police!” the woman returned. “If you call the police, I’ll disappear. You’ll never hear from me again.”

Joanna was afraid the woman would hang up on her. Even if the woman on the phone was the same woman who had been with Andy in the bank, she was also the first person, other than Joanna herself, to insist that Andy had been murdered. She couldn’t afford frighten Tammy Sue Ferris away.

“What do you want then?” Joanna asked. “Why are you calling me?”

“I want you to help me work a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“With the cops.”

“What kind of deal?” Joanna repeated.

“I have something of Tony’s,” Tammy Sue explained. “Something important that the cops are going to want.”

“‘That’s simple enough,” Joanna said. “Why don’t you just take it to them?”

“I want them to buy it. I need the money.”

“Wait a minute. You’re saying you have an important piece of evidence, and you expect to be paid for it?”

Although the young woman seemed to be speaking in dead earnest, for some reason Joanna found the whole scheme wildly implausible. Maybe Tammy Sue Ferris was a mental case.

“This is Cochise County,” Joanna said, “a place where budget cuts are the order of the day. I don’t think you’ll find many likely buyers.”

“Oh, they’ll buy, all right. Once they know what I have, somebody will be willing to buy, but I have to stay alive long enough to negotiate. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” Joanna echoed. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

Tammy Sue Ferris took a deep breath. “I already told you. Tony’s a killer. If you can put him in prison for killing your husband, then he won’t be able to come after me. That’s the only way I’ll be safe, if Tony’s dead or in jail.”

Suddenly Joanna could see that it had everything to do with her. If the woman was telling the truth, if this Tony really was Andy’s killer, then there was nothing she wanted in the world more than putting him in jail. But how could she determine whether or not Tammy Sue was on the level?

“II you didn’t see him do it, how do you know this Tony’s responsible?” Joanna asked.

“He got paid for it,” Tammy Sue answered. And when he saw on the news that your husband wasn’t dead…”

“He got paid to do it? Why would someone pay to have Andy killed?”

“‘That’s what Tony does for a living. He kills people.”

“But who does he work for?”

“I don’t know, not for sure. Drug dealers most likely. They’ve got plenty of money.” Joanna’s mind was awhirl. Some things in Tammy Sue’s wild story made sense in a way that Joanna desperately wanted to believe, and yet she couldn’t escape the sense that she was somehow being suckered. She wanted to be smart about all this, to walk into whatever it was with her eyes open.

“Are you going to tell me about the money?” she asked.