“The company reads them for inappropriate content, I imagine.”
“Yes. It’s for our protection, really. If they’re too explicit or say something raunchy, they get tossed. Because these seemed threatening, Mr. Carlyle took us aside after our first group meeting and showed them to each of us individually, asked if any of us knew who might be responsible.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No. No one did. I just figured it was some crackpot. Some of the other girls were worried, but I’m from LA, land of ten thousand nut jobs.”
Ethan chuckled. “The postmarks came from six different locations in the Seattle area. How long have you been in town?”
“I stayed with friends for a couple of days before I moved to the hotel.”
“You didn’t notice anyone following you, either before or after you got to the Fairmont? Anyone who stood out in some way?”
She frowned, trying to remember. “I don’t think so. I wish I could be more helpful.”
He nodded. “Thanks for trying.”
“You aren’t really concerned about this wing nut?”
Ethan smiled. “When you put it that way, no. But keeping everyone safe is my job. That includes finding wing nuts like this one.”
She gave him a flirty smile. “You know, I’m not part of the show anymore. So the no-fraternization rule no longer applies.”
His mouth edged up. “Unfortunately, as long as I work for La Belle,the rule applies to me. Take care of yourself, Heather. And thanks again.”
He didn’t miss the smirk on Dirk’s face as he walked away.
Val spotted Ethan Brodie outside the door of the break room. Arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging, he watched her approach, his dark eyes alert but at the same time reserved.
She knew he was related by marriage to her good friend, Samantha Brodie. Sam’s husband, Nick, and Ethan were cousins. Nick was amazingly handsome and so was Ethan, which made the family resemblance clear. Nick was hot. So was Ethan.
Besides his good looks, there was something about him: an aura of physical strength, maybe, or confidence, or a mixture of both. Whatever it was, a little kick of awareness went through her whenever she felt his eyes on her.
He unfolded his arms and stepped away from the door. “Valentine, you got a minute?”
Her heart did a little jerk and started beating faster. She didn’t like the feeling, but it didn’t go away. “Sure. What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping you could answer a couple of questions about that note you and some of the other girls received.”
“All right.”
He tipped his head toward a quiet area a few feet away from the break room, and Val walked in that direction. She was tall, but he was way taller. When he spoke, she had to tip her head back to look at him.
“You live here in Seattle, right?”
“That’s right. In the Montlake area.”
“Have you noticed anyone around your house, someone who might seem out of place, someone you aren’t used to seeing? Or maybe there’s someone who seems to keep popping up wherever you go.”
She thought that over. “I can’t think of anyone. I spend time with a trainer at the gym not far from my place. Once in a while one of the guys can be a little overfriendly, but if they get too pushy, Mark—that’s my trainer—usually puts a stop to it.”
“Which gym is it?”
“Ajax Fitness. It’s on Twenty-Fourth Avenue East.”
“What’s Mark’s last name?”
“Dargan, but I really don’t think—”
