Argeneau Family 12. The Renegade Hunter(3)

"Well, when you put it that way," Alex said wryly and shrugged. "It is kind of weird."

"Yes, it is," Jo said firmly. "And it isn't the only weird thing here. What about the security on this place? That's a bit over the top, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but Sam explained that Mortimer and the boys are having trouble with a stalker fan," Alex reminded her.

"Right," Jo snorted. "A stalker fan for a band who hasn't even agreed on a name yet."

"I thought they were going with Morty and the Muppets," Alex said with a frown.

"Alex," Jo said. "Even if they have a name now and a stalker from some Podunk little town they've played, where the heck did they get the money for this place and all its security? For God's sake, they're tricked out here like a third world dictator or big-wheel drug dealer. I doubt even the president of the U.S. or the prime minster here in Canada have twenty feet of barbed wire between them and the world."

Alex grinned and said, "I have a theory about that."

"Oh?" Jo asked. "And what is that?"

"That Mortimer isn't really in a band. That the story was all just some cover to hide the fact that he's really some big-deal rich guy. Like Gates maybe."

Jo raised her eyebrows. "Gates is a skinny old dude with glasses and graying hair. Mortimer is not Bill Gates."

"Well, his son or some other rich guy then," Alex said with exasperation. "The point is, he just pretended to be some poor schmuck in a band so that Sam wouldn't fall for his money rather than him."

"Right," Jo said doubtfully, although, really, it made more sense than that Mortimer, Decker, and Bricker were in some little band and having trouble with a stalker fan. She supposed Sam probably knew the truth of the situation by now, and would eventually clue them in. In the meantime, Sam and Mortimer had finished their little huddle and were now leading over the latest arrival at the party—late being the key word since it was late and the caterers and cleaners were moving through cleaning up around the guests. Turning, she handed Alex her drink. "Here. Hold this. I have to go to the bathroom."

Alex accepted the drink, but narrowed her eyes. "You'd best really have to go. You are not leaving me here to handle all these men by myself."

Jo gave a wry laugh. "As far as I can tell, there's nothing to handle, they're all more interested in each other than us. They're probably all gay."

"You think?" Alex asked with wide-eyed alarm.

Jo merely rolled her eyes and slid quickly away before Sam, Mortimer, and Mr. Late-to-the-Party could reach them. She had to wonder about the question, though, as she moved through the milling men. They all looked kind of perfect. Not perfect as in model gorgeous. Despite Alex's words, there were some men there who were not picture-perfect pretty. Some were tall, others a little shorter, some white, some darker-skinned, one had a nose that was a little large, another had narrow eyes, and so on, but they were all perfect versions of themselves, with perfect complexions, healthy hair, and very healthy bodies. There wasn't a blemish to be seen, not a single split end on a single head, and not an ounce of fat. It was enough to make a gal feel a bit inferior. Most men she was acquainted with didn't know from a split end or good blemish creams and moisturizers… unless they were gay.

Maybe she hadn't been far off the mark, Jo thought as she reached the door. A glance back as she stepped into the hall showed that Sam and Mortimer had reached Alex with the latest man, and he was doing that weird staring thing, peering intensely at Alex's forehead as if she had a huge zit growing in the center of it.

Shaking her head, Jo hurried up the hall. She bypassed the bathroom, however, heading for the kitchen instead. Much to her relief, the room was empty. Jo moved quickly through it to the dark and equally empty dining room and the sliding glass doors that waited there.

A small sigh of relief slipped from her lips when she managed to step outside without being discovered or stopped. Jo eased the door closed behind her and then paused to glance around. She and Alex had arrived earlier in the evening when it had still been light out. The yard had been large and peaceful then; a beautifully manicured lawn surrounded by trees softly swaying in a light breeze. But spooky seemed more fitting now, Jo thought with a grimace. The bucolic scene from day became a mass of unrecognizable shapes in the darkness, and all of it was rustling in the gentle night breeze. It was enough to make her glance warily around and consider heading back inside, but she didn't. Instead, Jo took a breath and started out. She wanted a little walk and fresh air before returning inside to suffer more of the weird encounters that made up this party. She'd really like to cut out and head to her apartment to relax and put her feet up, but she'd ridden here with Alex, and they were supposed to spend the night. Now Jo wished she'd driven herself. If she tried to retire early, Sam would no doubt be all over her, asking what was wrong and why she wasn't still at the party. Jo didn't want to hurt her older sister's feelings by telling her this was the lamest party she'd ever attended.