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of thing at all.”
    “You tossed a coin for me?” Kennie repeated, her voice taking on a new, incredulous edge. Before Alex could react, she wrenched her upper body free of him and slithered over the edge of the bed.
    “Stop her!” Chris shouted. “She’s headed for her purse!”
    Alex vaulted off the bed and lunged after her, falling at her feet.
    Kennie’s hand was inches away from the pink canvas bag when he caught hold of her ankles and held her back. “Get it, Chris!”
    “Dammit, let go of me!” Kennie screamed as Chris snatched her bag off the floor and retreated to the sofa. He turned it upside down and shook. When nothing fell out, he fumbled with the buckles. She gave her left foot a vicious jerk and freed it.
    “Kennie, give me a break!” Alex moaned.
    But she was free and halfway across the room. Chris had possession of the bag, but Kennie’s slashing nails gave her a distinct advantage. Chris fell back in dismay, staring at the long pink stripe on the back of his hand. “She scratched me!”
    Kennie plunged her hand inside her purse, fumbled, then, with an expression of triumph, pulled out a can, aimed and squeezed.
    Her mouth fell open as the air horn blasted.
    And blasted.
    And blasted.
    Alex clapped his hands over his ears. The pounding on the wall resumed; the telephone began to ring.
    Advancing one angry step at a time, Alex shouted, “Cut that blasted thing off!”
    Kennie jiggled the button, but the jammed horn continued to blare. She gave a frustrated growl and finally tossed it at Alex. “You figure it out!”
    As Alex dived for it, she frantically searched her purse. Wincing at the noise, Alex shook the air horn, but it blew on. Desperate, he finally gave up and ran to the door, flung it open, and hurled the horn into the hall. It hit the opposite wall and immediately silenced.
    Slamming the door behind him, Alex whirled back toward her and froze, his eyes wide and focused on the can of Mace that was mere inches from his nose.
    “Back off, buster,” Kennie threatened.
    “Just let me explain,” he pleaded, backpedaling. “It’s not what you think! Nothing happened that we can’t fix, if you’ll just calm down!”
    Kennie grabbed her sandals from the floor, then edged her way toward the door. “I’m leaving, and you’re not following. Is that clear?”
    “Kennie,” Alex implored. “Give me a chance!”
    “She’s crazy,” Chris insisted. “Let her go!”
    A loud knock sounded at the door. “Hotel security—open up in there!”
    Seconds later the door burst open. Flanked by two armed security guards, the concierge stood in the doorway, a gaggle crowded behind them.
    “Excuse me,” Kennie snarled, and shoved her way through their midst.
    Alex lunged after her, leaving Chris to pick up the pieces. But he merely waved a handful of bills in the concierge’s face and ran after the two of them. “My ring! Don’t let her get away with my ring!”

    ~o0o~

    A half hour later, Kennie limped on a broken heel down Virginia Street, toward the early-evening sun setting over the Truckee River. Half her hair had tumbled loose from its topknot of curls and dangled around her shoulders. Her electric-yellow dress gaped in front where two almost-crucial buttons were missing. She blew a wisp of hair out of her face and waited impatiently at the corner for the light to change, ignoring the stares of onlookers. Her gaze happened upon the arching sign overhead:

    RENO
    THE BIGGEST LITTLE CITY IN THE WORLD

    And I’m the biggest little fool in the world, she thought in confusion, glancing over her shoulder and seeing Alex hurrying to close the distance between them. Unshaven, his tuxedo jacket askew, he clutched the bruised and bedraggled bouquet and wedding album. Though her energy was nearly depleted, she refused to let him catch her, refused to give him another chance to convince her to.... To what? She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out.
    She darted into the street,