One Lucky Vampire(19)

So . . . the blood and refrigerator would have to wait. He could always call Bastien and ask him to send both out to him if he couldn’t find a way to manage the task himself. A refrigerator wasn’t usually an item Argeneau Enterprises supplied, at least he didn’t think it was, but he suspected Bastien would make an exception. Especially when he found out Jake was here at his mother’s behest. Besides, he’d be happy to pay for the extra service.

Jake quickly tidied the kitchen. There wasn’t much to do there. Marguerite had returned her coffee cup and he put that and his own in the dishwasher, along with the couple of spoons they’d used. He then put the milk and sugar away, wiped up the counter and he was done. He was crazy restless though, and after a hesitation, he went downstairs, donned his coat and boots, and unlocked the front door to go outside.

It was snowing out, the front steps already covered with a thin layer of new-fallen snow. Jake supposed he’d have to take care of that before Marguerite left tomorrow. But he’d leave it till morning, or at least until the snow stopped, he decided, as he turned to lock the front door with his key. As he started walking along the front of the house, he added arranging for the installation of a security system for the house to his list of things to do the next day. With any luck, he could get someone out right away and have it done first thing in the morning while Nicole slept. Then he just had to tell her after the fact as if it were a typical chore he was expected to do . . . and he would in his capacity as bodyguard. Jake suspected few cook/housekeepers were ever called upon to manage the task though.

Smiling at the thought, he walked around the house. It was a full moon tonight, the snow showing up in gray relief with moonshadows cast by the many trees in the yard. Jake automatically scanned the area as he walked, looking for footprints in the snow or moonshadows that might be someone who shouldn’t be there. He didn’t see anything.

Jake’s eye was drawn to a large puddle of light splashing across the snow-covered yard when he turned the corner to the back of the house. He knew the light was coming from Nicole’s studio windows, but he was surprised they were uncurtained at night. He was also surprised to find himself drawn forward like a moth to a flame.

Pausing on the edge of the light where he wouldn’t be visible, Jake peered into the studio, amusement tugging at his lips when he saw Nicole with headphones on, dancing around as she dabbed at a stretch of canvas with a paintbrush. There were three canvases set up, each at a different stage of completion. One looked to be barely started, a pencil sketch of what appeared to be a couple. It was too faint and he was too far away to be able to see the features, but Jake suspected it was Marguerite’s son, Christian, and his fiancée, Carolyn. She’d mentioned that she’d come with photos for Nicole to use for the portrait. He guessed that Nicole must have set to work that evening on the initial sketch for the portrait. The next canvas held a half-done portrait of a rather stern-looking older man against a dark and dramatic background. The last was a rather lovely woman who looked vaguely familiar. That one looked nearly done.

Nicole did a little whirl in front of the woman’s portrait, and then suddenly shifted to the half-finished stern-faced man, and Jake watched with fascination as she began to dab at the background there with the same brush. It seemed she was working on the three canvases at once, he thought with surprise, his gaze dropping to her behind as she paused in her painting to do a little bump and grind to whatever music she was listening to.

It took about two minutes for it to occur to Jake that his behavior was kind of creepy. He was sort of acting like a peeping Tom. Or, really, he supposed he was being a peeping Tom, standing there staring in at an unsuspecting Nicole.

Grimacing at his own behavior, Jake forced himself to continue walking. He made his way around the outside of the splash of light on the lawn, determinedly not looking in the window again. He then continued around the side of the building and back to the front of the house again.

There were no footprints but his own in the new-fallen snow, Jake noted as he walked to the front door and unlocked it. But he hadn’t expected any. Whoever had unlocked the door twice that day now knew Nicole had company. They’d wait until she was alone to try again, he was sure . . . unless they’d already done something none of them yet knew of. The thought was a troubling one. There were so many options in every house. Poison could have been put in anything from food and drink to perfume or lotion. The electrical could have been messed with, a stair rail could have been loosened, or the chandelier that hung in the curve of the stairwell . . .