Her gaze searched up one side of the street and then down the other. She glanced at her wristwatch. This was the first time he’d spotted her where she wasn’t either surrounded by lawyers and clerks at the courthouse, or shadowed by that damned Indian she’d hired. Even though he hadn’t gone near the place, he knew she’d been staying at her daddy’s house. He didn’t want to get caught within a mile of David Corbett’s home. Not now. Not while everything was working out so well. Everything Corbett had worked for was about to be destroyed. And best of all, with plans falling so neatly into place, Corbett would spend a good many years in a cold, stark prison cell. A thin fog hazed the afternoon, and the gray sky was beginning to spit rain. He’d read in the papers how Libby Corbett had staked her career on clearing her daddy’s name. She had moxie, he had to give her that. But she’d best be careful. There was a fine line between spunk and nosiness. She just might get herself hurt.
