“I don’t know. People are funny about spiders.”

“They’ll like this one. The cobweb will look as if it’s made out of sequins.”

“You sure do have some ideas, Blue.” Carl studied the mural from a new angle. “Chief Wesley thinks you should paint a skull and crossbones in the lobby as a warning to obey the law, but I told him you didn’t paint that kind of stuff.”

“You told him right.” Her stay in jail had been oddly peaceful, as long as she didn’t let herself think about Dean. Now that she’d started painting what she wanted, ideas were flooding her brain so fast she couldn’t keep up with them.

Carl wandered out into the office. It was Thursday morning. She’d been arrested on Sunday, and she’d worked on the mural in the jail’s hallway since Monday afternoon. She’d also made lasagna for the staff in the community kitchen and answered the phone for a couple of hours yesterday when Lorraine, the clerk, had picked up a bladder infection. So far April and Syl had visited, along with Penny Winters, Gary the hairdresser, Monica the real estate agent, and Jason, the bartender at the Barn Grill. All of them were sympathetic, but except for April, no one was anxious for her to get out of jail until Nita had signed the final papers agreeing to the town improvement project. That was the bargaining chip Nita had played to trigger Blue’s arrest. Blue was furious with her…and touched beyond words.

The person who hadn’t visited was Dean. He’d warned her that he wouldn’t come after her, and he wasn’t a man for idle threats.

Chief Wesley stuck his head into the hallway. “Blue, I just got word Lamont Daily is stoppin’ by for a cup of coffee.”

“Who’s he?”

“The county sheriff.”

“Gotcha.” She put down her brush, wiped her hands, and went back to her unlocked cell. She was currently the jail’s only prisoner, although Ronnie Archer had been here for a couple of hours after Carl had picked him up for driving with a suspended license. Karen Ann had bailed out her lover, unlike Dean. But then Carl’s bail was only two hundred dollars.

Her jail cell had proven to be a good place to think about her life and sort through the rubbish that was shackling her. Syl had sent over an easy chair and a brass floor lamp. Monica had brought a couple of books and some magazines. The Bishops, the couple who would now be able to turn their Victorian house into a bed-and-breakfast, had provided her with decent bed linens and fluffy towels. But Blue couldn’t enjoy any of it. Tomorrow, Dean left for training camp. It was time for a jail break.