“Well, you have my number. If you need anything, I'll be right out the front doors. Text, call, whatever. If you decide to leave, just go, I'll be right on your tail.”
She smirked. “Right on it, huh? Even with my face looking like this?”
I blushed a little, actually blushed, and looked away. “Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?”
She took a long look at me, at my reaction, gave a little hand wave. “Sorry, that was, uh, inappropriate.”
“Don't worry. You're stressed. People do weird things during stress. In the service, I knew one guy who would say the alphabet backwards every time we got into a fire fight. That was inappropriate.”
She laughed, wiped another tear from her eye. “Did he do it with the whole song and everything?”
It was good to see her laugh again, to smile. I grinned, shook my head as I leaned back against the wall. “No, he couldn't ever get that far. A bullet would whiz past his head and he'd have to start over. Farthest I ever heard him get was O.”
She giggled, shaking. “I know I shouldn't be laughing about this.”
I shrugged. “Some war stories, they're okay to think they're funny. You gotta find something funny when shit's going down, you know?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”
“But, listen,” I said, jerking a thumb back over my shoulder, “I'm gonna get back out there. I'll make my calls from the Jeep, see if we can't find out something more about this guy.”
“Okay. I'll probably be leaving here in thirty. That sound good?”
“Fifteen? An hour? I literally have nowhere else to be.” I turned and left, headed back through the gallery. I stopped and stared up at the wolf painting I'd spotted on my way in, letting the colors and paints clear my head as I took them all in.
I heard footsteps back in the office, just her walking around, but didn't bother to turn.
She needed her privacy, and needed to know I was working to keep her safe. I turned and headed out of the gallery, the bell clanging overhead. I crossed the slow Main Street and climbed back into my old Jeep Wrangler.
Lacy picked up her phone on the third ring. “Whatchoo got, furball?” she asked, her pixie voice ringing in my ears.
Lacy Richter was Genevieve’s granddaughter, and probably one of the best computer techs in Colorado. And, if not Colorado, then definitely the High Rockies. She could tap a line, hack a voice mail, and find out everything you could about a person in less than a day. She was also an incorrigible brat, and not even old enough to legally drink. Like her grandmother, she knew we were shifters, and she just thought it was cool, like we were real life “furries,” whatever the hell that was. If Gen Richter was our den mother, then Lacy was our mascot.
I rolled my eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I reprimanded in a growl. “How do you know I'm not calling you on speaker phone or something?”
“How do you think I keep you from calling me on speaker phone, old man?”
Knowing this would quickly devolve into a skirmish of words I'd never truly win, I chose instead to just grumble and move on. “The boss tell you about what I got going?”
“Death threats on the pretty local girl? Yep.”
“She's got a name.”
“Of course she does, fuzzy. Jessica Long, right? What's going on? Time is money, here.”
“Her silent partner that died? Executor on the estate came by just now. Axelrod left his part of the business to his nephew, Wyatt Axelrod. Need you to check into him.”
“Think he's the perp?”
I shrugged as I looked out over the sleep Main Street. “I don't know, to be honest. But, Jessica thinks the calls started right around the time her old partner died. Maybe he wants the business for himself and he's trying to push her out for cheap?”
“I'll look into it. Anything else?”
“One other thing. She received a fax, another death threat, just a little while ago. Any chance you could track where it came from?”
“From here? No. But I can get in there first thing tomorrow, check it out. Depending on what number it came through on, they either used an online service, a cell phone, or the internet.”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “First thing, soon as she opens. That fax looked crazy, and I'd like to figure out who's sending it. And you can do that? Fax from the internet?”
“I know right,” she replied, a grin in her voice. “First men turning into wolves, now this. The wonders, they never cease.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Got anything else for me, old man?”
Sure, I had a hundred questions. Who was this Blake Axelrod guy? Who was making these calls? What was Jessica's biggest goal in life? Did she like Thai food? Why did she feel so perfect when she was in my arms? I shook my head. “No. That's it for me.”
“Got it. I'll see what I can dig up on Mr. Wyatt here, and get back to you. Going to be home, or out running around in the woods all night?”
“Neither,” I growled. “Stakeout tonight at the client's house.”
She giggled. “Sure,” she said, drawing out the word. “Stakeout.”
“Oh, grow up.”
She giggled again. “Got it. S'later, dude.”
We hung up. But there was still, at the back of mind, the questions nagging at me. Most importantly, though, was the biggest one I had: why was I so drawn to her? It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
Why her? Why Jessica Long, a woman I'd just met?
Chapter Five
Peter Frost
Peter leaned back in the desk as he cycled through the Alexa database for news articles on wolves. He and Richard normally switched off, taking turns to do the monthly checks for out of place shifters. You never knew when you'd find one that might be a good fit for Frost Security.
Recently, their efforts had almost entirely tapered off in the last six months, when they'd welcomed Matthew Jones into their group. If Peter wanted to keep them all employed, and at a respectable rate of pay, he needed to consider keeping the team at five people. There was only so much work they could rustle up, and he knew it.
But, diversity mattered, both in talent and personality. For instance, it'd be good to have a female shifter around. Might bring some differing perspectives to the variety of tasks people hired them on.
This was enough database mining for one day, though, especially with a new client on the books.
And, what a client they'd pulled in. Not only was she a local, and it was always good to help people from town and generate goodwill, but she was Richard Murdoch's one true mate. Richard, of course, didn't know it. But Peter knew from the look his father had as he gazed at his mother, and from the lore they'd taught him as a pup. Once a shifter found their partner, they were in it for the long haul.
Peter remembered that feeling well, and it still tore at him that he'd had to leave his all those years ago. It was like a silver bullet right through his heart every time he thought of Vanessa. But, what was he to do? She was gone.
No, the best thing for him, now, was to focus on his pack, and their happiness. If it had taken a cut-rate deal on their services to make sure Jessica Long hired Richard for her case, then that was what it had taken. End of story. What was his pack mate's happiness compared to a few dollars? Now, with Peter's help, the ball was in Richard and Jessica's court. All Peter Frost could do was sit back and wait, and help Richard with the protection detail as much as he could.
He leaned back in his chair, stretched and gave a big, growling yawn that seemed to shake the glass walls surrounding him. It was getting late in the day, and his stomach grumbled for another meal. Rubbing his eyes, he closed the web browser and went to shut off the computer. That was enough database searching for now. If there were anymore shifters out in the wild waiting for a friendly tail wag before they joined a pack, they'd still be there tomorrow. He grabbed his sidearm from his desk drawer and stuffed it in his hip holster, then headed out t
o the front.
“Calling it a night, Peter?” Gen asked as he stepped out into the waiting area. She was busy at her desk finishing up some last minute paperwork, payroll probably. He could hear Lacy, too, somewhere off in the rear of the office, her music blaring as she worked away at research for Murdoch.
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, nodding. “Need to catch a quick nap so I can relieve Richard tonight. You leaving soon?”
“Soon,” she agreed. “Just need to finish up this last little bit of billing for the jobs down in Denver, then I'll be right behind you.”
He nodded, his stomach grumbling again, catching even Gen's attention. She looked pointedly at him.
“Don't worry,” he said, “I'm going to eat, too.”
“Not just another burger, I hope.”
He laughed as he turned to leave. “No, of course not,” he said, pushing open the office door and letting himself out onto the old patio. “Steak,” he called back over his shoulder, just as the door closed.
Peter took a moment to stand there, look out over the quickly darkening town. The mountains to the west shaded Enchanted Rock below them, making for an early sunset. Sun light bathed half the little hamlet in golds and yellows, lit it up like it was on fire. The other half it painted in muted grays and blues, sad tones like they'd hired Picasso to design the place.
The Rock was a good town. A quiet town, a place where he and his pack could run free at night, where they could find work, be left alone when they wanted to be left alone. He didn't regret setting up shop here, or bringing Richard with him. This had been a good choice, a solid one, made even better by the friends they'd made, like Gen and Lacy, and the new pack members they'd managed to recruit.
But still, worry gnawed at him. Something was coming, and he knew it. He'd smelled it on the winds the other night, while the pack had been returning from their hunt for the herd of Elk. Just a whiff on the air, but still a familiar scent that he remembered from his parents' home back in Pennsylvania. Even though the estate had burned to the ground months before while he was off serving in the SEALs, he could still smell that cloying scent over everything. It had practically seared itself into his memory.
He sniffed the air again, his human-form senses not nearly as attuned as his wolf's, but still strong. All he could smell, though, was pine and spruce and pinon and the deep, rich, loamy smells of summer. Soil fed by dying leaves and needles, plants fed by spring runoff from the snowy mountains, and the smoke from an open grill as some hunter out there on the other side of town cooked a venison steak.
His stomach grumbled again. Questions could wait.
Weird smells, or not. Richard finding his true mate, or not. None of that mattered.
Right now, all he could think about was supper.
Chapter Six
Jessica
“Curious Turtle,” I said into my cell phone, my voice tight as I worried about whether or not it would be another animatronic voice piped through some computer. They'd been calling both the gallery and my cell phone for so long, that I'd begun to dread any unknown number. And, to think, before all this started I'd thought telemarketers were bad! “How can I help you?”
“Jessica? It's Richard.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. Not because it was familiar, the animatronic crazy man was more than that by now, but because something about him was reassuring. Then, my breath caught in my throat again as I realized he wouldn't be calling me unless there was a problem.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“No, no, everything's fine. Just giving you an update, and I figured it would look strange if I walked back in. Also, I'm calling to see if you've reconsidered the offer on the safe house.”
“What's the update?”
“Our people are working on getting information on Wyatt Axelrod, should have something tomorrow morning. Also, our IT person will be by early to look at your fax machine, and see what she can dig up. She's pretty sure she can figure out where it came from, so that gives us a good lead.”
I nodded, my chest loosening a little.
“Now, about the safe house. The offer is still open. I'd be much more confident in being able to keep you safe, there.”
“I have dogs, Richard. I can't just abandon them for the night.”
“No friends who can look in on them?”
“And not have it look strange when I didn't tell them about my leaving town? Wouldn't that just tip someone off?”
“Pick them up and head to the house afterwards?”
“I just want to stay in my own home, tonight, okay? It's just . . . it's just where I feel safest, alright? Is that too much to ask?”
He sighed on the other line. “No, I can appreciate that. Well, whichever spot you choose, I'll be there.”
Something about the way he said that last part, that he'd be there, actually filled me with a little confidence, like a balm to soothe my aggravated fight or flight instinct. What person wouldn't feel that way, though, with a tough guy like Richard Murdoch reassuring them over the phone?
“Heading out soon?” he asked.
“Just about to grab my purse,” I replied as I went around to my desk and pulled my handbag from the drawer. “Are you going to follow me?”
“Short distance behind. You'll see me, I'm sure, but no one else should. And, remember, I need to be the first one in the house. Wait for me when you get there. If anything seems off, you leave. Okay?”
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. “Got it. See you soon, then.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he replied in a clipped voice just before we both hung up. I tucked my phone away in my purse and headed out through the gallery, giving it the once over.
I didn't know what to think about all this. First the threats, now Blake's nephew coming on the scene? Were the two linked? Richard seemed to think so, but he was an outsider looking in. I shook my head, sighing. Maybe that outsider status somehow gave Richard more perspective than I had? I didn't know. All I knew was, I was scared. Scared and worried. About my future, about my safety.
I locked up and headed out to my car, glancing around. I caught sight of my security blanket in his old, beat up Jeep Wrangler down the block. I resisted the urge to wave, and just climbed into my old red Jetta, started her up, and took off for home.
I lived up on the south side of town, in a little two bedroom cabin I rented. It wasn't anything extravagant, but the view out of the big picture windows was incredible. It was worth the couple hundred extra dollars a month to get such a spectacular view every morning, and it was only a short drive during the summer. Of course, during the winter months, the trek was longer, and moderately more dangerous, but that went for everything from October to April.
Richard's old Jeep was just barely visible in my rear view mirror. In fact, if I hadn't have known I was being tailed, I wouldn't have even thought twice about it. What did that say about me, though? Just lackadaisically going through life without a care in the world?
Knowing he was close by like this, though, did make me feel better, my jokes about security blankets aside. There was just something about him that I liked. I'd never been much for his type of guy, always preferring more of the artist types who preferred to curl up with a good book or go to an art museum, rather than hit the gym. But there was something about those strong arms of his, and the way his chest had felt as I cried into it.
“Ugh, what are you doing, Jess?” I chided myself in the rear view as I reached the halfway marker to my house. “He's your security guy. Don't go all Whitney Houston here. Get those thoughts right out of your head, and do it fast. Remember, he's just watching out for you because you're paying him to. Nothing more. Got it?”
I sighed, looking back to the road. “Got it, Jess. I got it.”
A few minutes later, I pulled into my driveway and waited. I could hear my dogs Eli and Wallach going crazy inside. Both barked loud as they could, desperate to get outside and relieve themselves. I hated havi
ng to wait out here with them just inside like this, but Richard had told me to wait for my safety.
Conifer trees dotted the property the cabin was built on, giving it a picture perfect look. The place I rented was small, only two bedrooms, but I much more preferred the term cozy. That was how it felt during the winter, at least, when the snow was really blowing in. It was more than enough space for me and my two boys. Plus, it backed up to a little stretch of creek and some flatter, rocky grasslands where I could take them to go run each morning. I mean, sure, I wanted a family some day. But who, pray tell, was I supposed to make one with?
So, I sat there for a good minute, waiting for Richard to arrive. But then Eli started his howling, and I caved. He just sounded so lonesome in there, even with his brother Wallach right next to him. And then, of course, they both began crooning together, and that was too much for me to handle.
I was weak.
I climbed out of my car, purse in hand, and headed up the driveway. Let's just hope there wasn't some serial killer, or rapist, or general psycho waiting around the corner for me.
Much to the delight of my boys, I marched up the little walkway to the front door, keys jingling in my hand. Eli bellowed at me in his big hound voice, while Wallach yelped next to him as they both paced back and forth in front of the door. “Hold your horses, guys!” I groaned as they got louder.
Deadbolt flipped back, I threw open the door and marched into the house. Eli, a big hound mutt with traces of blood hound and God only knows what else, bellowed again, nearly rattling the windows with his deep bass. Beside him, Wallach, my corgi mix, ran in circles, yapping and howling in excitement.
“Come on, guys!” I shouted excitedly, ushering them to the back door that led onto the small deck, which had to the the trees behind the cabin. “Come on, let's go out!”
They went along gamely, jumping up and down and pouncing, as I got them to the backdoor. I threw it open and let them rush outside. At night, I'd never have let them run like this. There was way too much wildlife in the area for them to be safe. Bobcats, lynx, coyotes, bears, and more. During the day, though, I wasn't too worried about them running into something like that, so I generally let them out to clear some of their pent up energies.
FROST SECURITY: Richard Page 4