Frost Security(10)

He grinned and thanked me, then he was back out the door and headed to his rental.

I stayed there, looking out the front windows of the shop, at the sunlight as it hit the store fronts across Main Street from the Curious Turtle. Just another day in the Rock. Another dollar, another disappointment.

I smiled through the heartache, though. Sure, the outcome of Blake's will hadn't been exactly what I was searching for, complete ownership of my business. But, on the bright side, I at least knew someone in Blake's family owned his portion. Maybe that was a good thing? Maybe it just meant I was one step closer to knowing how all this was going to pan out.

I frowned again, the smile suddenly too hard to hold in place.

Glancing over, Richard Murdoch caught my green eyes with his gray ones. We kept our gazes for the briefest of moments, and that same feeling from Frost Security's office returned. Suddenly, I realized, I was going to figure this out. I had a security guy watching out for me through all this.

He gave me a little smile I could just barely see, and glanced away before I could.

I turned around and went back into my office. I still had a few bits of paperwork to get through before calling it a night.





Chapter Four


Richard



I kept an eye on the place while she was inside with the suit. When they'd disappeared to the back, I'd moved up closer to the glass so I could hear better with my keener than human senses. I returned to my Jeep when they emerged from the office.

She was safe, and I knew it. But, why did I get out of the Jeep then and go walking across the street? Probably because of that tortured look on her face, like the world was coming to an end and there was nothing she, or anyone else, could do about it.

I crossed Main Street as she disappeared into the back again. As I pulled open the front door, I called out to her. “Jessica? It's just me, Richard.”

“Back here,” she called, her voice sullen and heavy.

I looked around the art gallery as I passed through it, at all the pictures of wildlife and landscapes. There were a few great ones of some wolves, nice oil paintings with some heavy brushwork. A couple I wouldn't mind hanging on the walls of my little place on the edge of town. I glanced at the price tags, surprised at how many of them I could afford. I wasn't incredibly wealthy, not by any means, but I'd socked quite a bit away when I was on deployment. Most guys blew their whole wad when they got back, but I'd managed to pick up a cash job right off the bat as a bouncer. And the security work paid pretty well, too. I definitely wasn't hurting, and could probably look at an early retirement if I really wanted.

I adjusted the gun on my hip, making sure it was out of view, and leaned my head in around the door. “Everything okay?” I asked.

She was sitting there in one of the chairs pulled up in front of her desk, her head thrown back, her hair cascading like a silky cloud. With her head upside down like that, she locked eyes with me. “That was the lawyer for my dead partner's estate,” she groaned.

“Not good news, I take it?”

Jessica raised her head, looked back over her shoulder at me with a sigh. “No. Well, I guess not. He didn't leave me the rest of the business. Not that he had to or anything, I wasn't exactly his adopted daughter or something. But, he did leave me a few paintings. That's good, right?”

I chuckled. “Guess it depends on if they're any good.”

She smiled. “No, they're good.”

“Who'd he leave his part of the business to? His widow?”

She shook her head. “Blake wasn't married. Had a string of ex-wives, but hadn't been with any of them in a few years. Nope, he left it to his nephew.”

“His nephew, huh?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the frame of the door. “Think he could be the one calling with the threats? You said they started right around the time your partner died, right?”

She shrugged. “I guess. But what would he want with a business like this? An art gallery?”

“You have a name for the guy?”

“Waylan, Wayne. Something with a W. I remember it was the same as one of those famous gunfighters.”

“Wyatt? Like Earp?”

She snapped her fingers, grinning. “Wyatt Axelrod. That's it.”

I took out my little pad and scratched down the name.

“Really think he might have something to do with it?”

“Considering you don't know anyone who has it out for you?” I asked, then nodded. “Yeah, I give it even money. At the very least I can have Lacy look into him when she gets into the office, or Peter even. Anything else interesting happening?”

She shook her head, gestured to a vacant seat next to her. “Why don't you take a load off, Richard? I can get us a cup of coffee.”