Frost Security(8)

I gave a short bark of laughter. “Yeah. Right.”

“Besides,” he continued, “if I don't put you to work, you're just lounging around anyways. Idle hands, and all that.”

I gave him a wolfish grin as I held up the ridiculously cheap quote. “Uh-huh. Sure, Frost. Sure. Certain you ain't crushing crush on this lady?”

“Just go in and give her the quote,” he replied with a sigh of resignation, his eyes shifting back to the screen, “so we can get you to work on this, and start to get things figured out. Soon as Lacy comes into the office, I'll tell her to get on the phone with you. And, I'll switch off with you tonight on watch. Got it?”

I nodded. “Got it.”

I left Pete in his office, quote in hand and headed back into the conference room with it. I wasn't sure what game he was playing at, but this quote was way too cheap compared to our normal client rates.

I wasn't sure what it was, but something told me Frost knew something I didn't.





Chapter Three


Jessica



I left Frost Security both a little shaken and, oddly, a little comforted. I wasn't sure how to handle this idea of some random man following me around all day and all night. Of course, don't get me wrong, he was an absolute hunk with blonde hair, gray eyes, and the lean build of snowboarder or carpenter. And, geez, those hands of his. So sure of themselves. Plus, he seemed, well, smart. Not like most of the guys I'd run across who looked like him. Something in those gray eyes of his just screamed intelligence, a keen awareness.

But having Richard Murdoch follow me around? Or anyone for that matter? I didn't like it. Not even him. It just seemed too intrusive for my tastes.

“I'll be a ghost,” he'd assured me when I'd voiced my mild concern over it. And, I wanted to believe him. But, still. I just didn't know how to handle it. I hadn't had a babysitter since I was ten. I reminded myself, though, that I was paying for his protection and expertise. I wasn't going to object to them doing what they needed to do.

So, I drove my old Volkswagen Jetta back across town to the Curious Turtle and headed back inside with a jingle of the front bell as I opened the door. I flipped the sign on the door around to open out of habit. Not that I expected any customers, of course, but it was still nice to hold out hope for a miracle.

I walked back through the gallery, with all its paintings of wildlife and natural landscapes hanging from the walls. My low heels clicked and echoed through the empty story front with each step on the tiled floor. The place was quiet, deathly quiet, and I could hear the wind whistling outside over the window panes, just trying to find a way to get in.

The Curious Turtle specialized in local and regional artists, catering more to the rich tourists who had their summer homes and winter cabins up here. Not the hippest, coolest thing in the world, and it'd have no traction in a place like LA or New York. But, I liked it, and so Blake Axelrod had gone with my choice.

Now Blake, there was a character. I hadn't seen him that often, except for when we'd first begun working together. After a few months, the novelty of owning his own art gallery must have worn off. Especially when compared to his primary business. He owned a custom motorcycle shop and Harley dealerships across the state. People said he had more money than sense and, based on him investing in this place with just a minor in Art History running the show, I tended to agree with them. But, though Blake had been eccentric, he'd still shared a love for the kind of art I promoted, and had been a big supporter of wildlife conservation in the Rockies. Most hunters were, to be honest. I found they loved nature as much as us more liberal hippie types, just in different ways.

I couldn't fault him for any of that.

I missed him. Even though we hadn't been great friends or anything, it was hard to lose someone so unexpectedly. Especially when you'd figured you would have years and years ahead of you. I'd never really gotten a chance to thank him for this giant chance for a hometown girl, who'd come back from college with no idea of how she'd make a living. I had no family in town anymore, just a few friends like Sheila and my other good friend Karen. Not after mom and dad split and moved away, both to warmer climates.

I sighed and headed back into my office. I stopped just two steps in, though, when I heard the bell on the front door clang. I backtracked and stuck my head out, scanned the gallery, saw a middle-aged man wearing a dark suit and carrying a briefcase. “Be right with you,” I called.

He smiled and nodded, gave a little wave. “Take your time, miss.”

I hurried over to my desk and locked up my purse in the bottom drawer, then headed back out to the showroom floor, smoothing the front of my shirt as I went. “How are you doing today?” I asked as I came out of my office and approached him. “Is there anything in particular you were looking for?”