“A small neighborhood tucked away off of 68. About 15 miles away,” I explain tersely. I know it isn’t ideal. It isn’t a super populated area, and she isn’t exactly hyperaware of her surroundings. “It’s pretty quiet and it looks like some of her neighbors are seasonal.”
“So basically she is easy pickings,” he simplifies, once he hears my explanation. He crosses his arms in front of him, his tattoos moving with his bulging muscles. Holt has a small investigations and security company that he owns and runs.
“Can you have Carter run a background check on her— just in case,” I ask him. Carter is Holt’s business partner at the security company.
“Sure, but do you really want me to do that? What if she finds out that you are checking up on her,” he says with a warning tone in his voice.
“It’s for her own safety, I don’t expect anything unusual to come from this check— but it will help us rule out whatever is going on,” by the end of my explanation my teeth are clenched. I’m not sure why I am so on edge. Holt pauses and looks at me for a second. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and hits a few buttons. Putting the phone to his ear he waits a second.
“Carter, can you run a background check on someone for me? I need it by tomorrow morning. Pull out all the stops,” he says as he walks around to the passenger side of the truck. He opens the glove box and pulls out the registration.
“The name is Meg Wilson, license plate JCK4675, address 220 Lupine Circle,” he states calmly. “Thanks Carter, I’ll keep you posted,” he ends the call.
Walking back around he looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “I hope you know what you are doing, this may come back to bite you in the ass,” he states lightly.
I know what he means, I’m sure she won’t be happy that I am doing this without her permission. I just know that I need to know more about her. I swallow down the slight panic I feel about the potential of her being in danger. Not sure where it is coming from. I don’t want to give myself time to analyze it either.
“Thanks, I think this will help us narrow down what the fuck is going on. I don’t want to waste any time on this,” I say as I toss the rag in my hands into the bin. “I need to wrap it up here and head down to the hardware store. Got to fix a leak under her sink,” I explain. Holt begins to chuckle again.
“Just shut the hell up Holt,” I bite out. I know what he is thinking and I don’t want to entertain is ridiculous ideas about this. I’m having enough trouble with my own thoughts. I don’t need his shit.
“Well, you better hurry up and get to the hardware store. They close at 4 today. Old man Nickles is scaling back his weekend hours,” he needles. “I have to go and check on something for a client, let me know if you need more help with this beast later,” he gestures over his shoulder to the Bronco.
“Is this anything you need back-up for,” I ask him quietly. Holt usually deals with minor stuff, but every once in a while he calls me in to help him when the job is a bit more dangerous.
“Nah, just a small surveillance job for a client. It’s just a formality really,” he shrugs his shoulders and grabs his jacket. “I’ll be around if you need anything and I’ll let you know what Carter finds.
He makes his way out the door but stops midway and turns, “Don’t do anything stupid bro.’’ He gives what I assume is the boy scout salute—neither one of us were ever in the scouts—and heads off towards his bike. Shaking my head, I turn to clean up and shut things down. It is close to 1:00 and I have to get going.
Chapter 9
Meg
“So, he isHOT—right? He sounds hot and it sounds like he is into you,” Piper states as she folds up her napkin and starts tossing our trash into the now empty bag. I laugh.
“What makes you say that,” I question a little frustratedly. She hasn’t even seen him. How would she know? How do I even respond to that?
“Well, you are trying not to share too much—so that is a red flag right there—- you like him. C’mon you at least find him attractive. Let’s face it, he wouldn’t be carting you aroundANDfixing that leak under your sink if he didn’t likeYOU,” she states triumphantly.
I wrestle internally with myself, I hate sounding like I have low self-esteem, but I know logically that guys like Sterling are usually attracted to blonde model-type girls. I settle for being honest.
“I don’t think that I’m his type, I’m sure he has his pick of women,” I vaguely state. I turn to grab my phone to see if I have any messages and hear her huff in frustration.
“Sure, you aren’t,” she says. I practically can hear the eye roll before I see it. “I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise, right now. Just know that I will love saying‘I told you so’very soon,” she says cheekily.
Now it is my turn to roll my eyes. My friend is very sweet, but delusional. We have a lot in common, but my head is not upin the clouds like hers. I am very aware of what I am and am not. Cute, chubby, brown haired girls rarely get the tall, dark, mysterious handsome, muscular guy. It’s time to shut down this uncomfortable conversation.
“I have to wrap up a few things before I head out today. What do I owe you for lunch? It was delicious by the way,” I add.
“Nothing, you can get mine next time. We end up passing the same $10.00 back and forth over and over,” she states as she stands up. “This conversation isn’t done, just postponed,” she says seriously. She checks her phone and sighs loudly. “I have to run, my new help is having issues, call you later,” she promises as she rushes out the door.
I roll my eyes as she slams the door and bolts down the stairs. I still have about an hour before he said he would be by to pick me up, so I decide that I will work a little bit more. I am having difficulty concentrating. My mind keeps wandering to the letter, email, and my truck. That leads me to think of Sterling. I didn’t want to tell Piper how hot he was. That would just make it worse. I was already struggling with keeping my libido in check around him, I was afraid what would happen if I shared his attractiveness out loud. I didn’t need her filling my head with unlikely possibilities and scenarios. My life was not a romance novel.
Turning my head back to my laptop, I mess with the social media graphic a little. It was a thank you post to everyone for the campaign the city council, chamber of commerce, and the ecotourism group asked me to design. Without the support of the local community, we would not have been able to convince the developer to back out of the deal with the private landowner.
High Ridge is situated in a picturesque mountain area. People come here to get away from the hustle and bustle of the cities. Developing that land would have been a huge mistake for the tourism market here. It also would have destroyed wildlifehabitats and put many of our local stores out of business. The town really showed its support during the campaign to conserve the land and to preserve the area as we knew it.
A lot of long nights went into forging partnerships, developing clever slogans, flooding local media outlets, and talks with locals paid off when the potential land developer backed out of the deal. Everyone was so relieved, and I have to admit I was proud that all that work paid off. Now, I was at a bit of a loss as to how to articulate the gratitude everyone felt.
