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illegal activities was constantly ringing in her ears. She did not know if he would carry it through or not, but she wanted to be prepared just in case he really did. No one was going to destroy her life. She would see him go to hell rather than allow him to get away with ruining everything for her and the kids.
    Back at their little house in St Jacob, Keith Gaultney was becoming a very lonely, isolated character. Kathy and the kids had moved out to live in Collinsville. He had no company. His only conversation was with a near-empty bottle. Perhaps it was not really that surprising when his addled, paranoid mind convinced him that the way to get Kathy back was to blow the whistle on those evil drug barons who had destroyed their life together.
    Keith Gaultney picked up the phone and dialled the directory enquiry service.
    ‘Internal Revenue Service, please.’
    He only meant to scare Kathy into seeing sense and coming back with the kids. The IRS would rap her on the knuckles and then go after the really big boys. Keith Gaultney did not even consider the fact that the US Drug Enforcement Agency would automatically get involved.
     
    18 March, 1988, seemed like a pretty ordinary day at the New Way Toning Salon in Collinsville. There was a handful of women customers going throughtheir $20-a-head skin-toning session, and no sign of the illegal activities that were a daily routine in the backroom of the premises.
    Neither of the women even noticed the black van parked up across the street from the beauty salon. But they certainly realised something was wrong when six Drug Enforcement Agents rushed through the front and back exits. Kathy’s first reaction was to deny any knowledge of the drug den hidden behind the main store. Under her breath she muttered: ‘You bastard, Keith. You bastard.’
    As the well-dressed officers made a clean sweep of the premises, Kathy and Martha looked on with blank expressions. But beneath their surprised faces lay a fury that was virtually uncontrollable. Kathy looked over at her friend and said:
    ‘That shit. I could kill him.’
    By the time the agents had taken away various bits and pieces of evidence of the drug packaging that was taking place behind the salon, Kathy was steaming mad. She had to get even – somehow.
    ‘I know you did it, Keith. I just know.’
    Keith Gaultney hardly even bothered to deny it either.
    As his wife tried to extract a confession from him that he had sparked the DEA raid that morning, he just let it all hang in the air. But his refusal to admit it just helped convince Kathy that there had to be away to stop him before he destroyed everything she had built up so carefully.
    Her drug bosses were not that worried by the raid because the agents could not find any actual narcotics. They decided that Kathy and Martha would have to continue dealing from their cars or homes rather than using the backroom of the salon. The two women really had little choice in the matter as they both desperately needed the money to survive. There was no turning back.
    But there was a very real danger that Keith Gaultney would stir up even more trouble for his wife, especially since the whole of St Jacob now knew from local newspaper reports of the raid that his wife was a suspected drug peddler.
    All it needed was another call from him to the IRS and then Kathy’s world would well and truly come tumbling down like a pack of cards. But Keith Gaultney was satisfied for the moment. He genuinely hoped that his wife would stop her involvement in drugs after the raid on the salon. But Kathy was in way too deep.
    And she had already devised a plan to keep a much closer eye on her informant husband.
    Keith Gaultney was delighted when Kathy announced she was moving back in and putting the divorce plans on ice. He actually believed that her decision was evidence in itself that he had done theright thing by informing on her to the authorities.
    For the first few months after she reappeared, he even