LITMIR.BIZ

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wrong?” Mack reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

      His touch sent her over the edge. She had to get away. Had to leave before she ruined everything. Had to hide from him so he wouldn’t see her for the timid spinster-in-the-making that she really was.

      Later, after the party was over, she would come back and try to find the necklace. But for now every phobia she’d ever experienced was gelling into one major fear. That of being found out a fraud before she’d ever had a chance to really live her great adventure.

      Get out. Get away!

      “I…I can’t do this.” She spun on her heels and took off at a dead run.

      “Camryn,” Mack cried. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

      She never hesitated.

      “Wait!” His footsteps thundered behind her.

      Clippety, clippety, clippety—stumble. Her ankle turned sideways in the impossible heels but she ignored the bite of pain and kept going.

      Hurry, hurry. You’ve got to give him the slip. Except she could hardly see where she was going with this darned hair bouncing free and unfettered about her face and she didn’t know the area. She rounded the building at a dead-on sprint, hoping he’d give up the pursuit. For heaven’s sake, if a man was running away from her she’d take the hint and not chase after him.

      But Mack stayed right on her tail.

      Was the man part bloodhound? Jeez Louise. Talk about relentless.

      Where could she go to get away from him? She leaped over some shrubbery at the edge of the side-walk. A well-dressed crowd was just walking into the entrance of the community center. Cammie Jo barreled past them, using human bodies as a shield between Mack and herself.

      “Excuse me. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to step on your toe.” She heard Mack apologizing but she never slowed, not for a second.

      Lungs bursting. Stitch in her side. Throbbing ankle. She could endure all that but not a totemless face-to-face encounter with Mack.

      Rabbit quick, she darted through the front door, spun past a startled Kay and clattered upstairs to the relative safety of the ladies’ room.

      Okay, don’t panic, don’t panic.

      Lovely advice. About as useful as telling a hostess not to panic when she’s got ninety-nine guests coming for Thanksgiving dinner in fifteen minutes and a hundred pounds of Turkey à la Froufrou just exploded in her brand new rotisserie oven.

      Cammie Jo paced the tiled bathroom, arms folded across her chest. What to do? She couldn’t stay in here all night.

      Or could she?

      Tempting thought, but considering the way he’d chased after her, Mack didn’t seem the kind of guy to let things go without a fight. He would probably send someone in after her.

      Rats, rats, rats.

      And then her gaze landed on the window.

      Hmmm. Small opening, but she was petite.

      Cammie Jo climbed up on the sink and leaned over to raise the window. She stuck her head out and peered down.

      Yipes!

      The ground was farther away than she expected. Never mind that directly underneath the ladies’ washroom window sat a row of sturdy, metal, bear-proof garbage cans that looked as if they could skin a girl something nasty.

      Cammie Jo pulled back, and mulled over her choices. She could take a header, or more precisely, a footer out the window, or she could face Mack again.

      Which was easier to do?

      She closed her eyes briefly and wished for the totem.

      If wishes were nuts and cherries we’d all have a Merry Christmas, Aunt Kiki was fond of saying, although Cammie Jo had never quite understood the adage. Herself, she’d always wanted clothes and toys for Christmas, not nuts and cherries.

      “Camryn?” Kay’s voice called to her from the outer room. “Are you in there? Mack’s looking for you.”

      Ulp. It was now or never.

      Cammie Jo dangled her legs over the window ledge, took a deep breath and jumped, stiletto heels and all.

      5

      WHAT ON EARTH had happened to her? Mack wondered as he paced the corridor, hands clasped behind his back.

      Damn his tendency to jump in with both feet when he wanted something, never mind that he could be barreling off a cliff.

      He needed to amend his “wife” list. Under “likes to be spoiled,” he was adding, “not a flight risk.”

      Kay reappeared a few minutes after she had gone inside the ladies’ room to look for Camryn. Mack raised his head, and gazed at her expectantly.

      “She’s not in there.”

      “What do you mean she’s not in there? I saw her go in with my own eyes.”

      “I checked all the stalls. No one is in there.”

      “You’re covering for her,” Mack accused.

      “Why Mack McCaulley, are you calling me a liar?” Kay settled her hands on her hips and gave him a mischievous grin.

      Contrite, he said, “No, Kay, of course not.”

      “I will tell you that the bathroom window was hanging open.”

      “You think she climbed out the window?”

      Kay shrugged. “Looks like it. What did you do to her?”

      “Me? I didn’t do anything.”

      “Camryn’s missing after slipping off alone with you. You Alaskans have the tendency to go after what you want pell-mell. Maybe you were moving too quickly for her.”

      “Then why didn’t she just say so?” Exasperated, Mack jammed his hands in his pocket.

      “You’ll have to ask Camryn that question.”

      “Right. And how can I do that when I don’t know where she is?”

      “She’s staying at Jake’s.”

      Just forget her, McCaulley. There’s millions more fish in the sea. Look around you.

      But part of him could not so easily dismiss Camryn without a valid explanation for her behavior. And he really wanted to apologize if he’d upset her in any way.

      He left the community center and walked across the street to Jake’s B&B. He pushed through the door into the lobby, then went over to the front desk where he found the desk clerk, crotchety old Gus, sitting on a stool reading some true-crime paperback with a lurid cover.

      “Hey, Gus.”

      Gus grunted and barely looked up from his book.

      “You have a guest by the name of Camryn Josephine staying here. Would you tell me her room number?”

      “We don’t give out that kinda information.”

      “Come on, Gus, you know me.”

      “Yeah, and you’re a rascal, McCaulley. I don’t trust ya.”

      “That was twenty-five years ago, Gus.” The elderly man gave him grief about his long-ago transgression whenever he could.

      “I gotta long memory.”

      “Obviously. I apologize profusely. I was a terrible kid. Now would you at least ring her room for me?”

      “You ain’t got a chance with that one. She’s too smart for the likes of you.”

      “That’s what you said about Quinn and Kay and you

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