Frosted (3 page)

“Yes,” Krista said. “I hate to ask your brother, but the alternative is worse.”

“What alter—oh, I agree.”

R.J. Flynn, the investigator who worked for a scumbag defense lawyer, was one of the few people they could call to assist, and Krista did not want to ask for a favor. Ever. Krista couldn’t honestly say that she didn’t like R.J. Not anymore. She did. A lot. She just didn’t want to. He had this tall, dark and dangerous thing going that Krista forced herself to ignore every time she was in the same room with him.

Almost every time.

They’d been rivals ever since Moreno & Hart opened its doors, often competing for the same jobs. R.J. usually won because, well, he was really good at what he did. He was really good at a lot of things, actually, and on the few dates Krista had been crazy enough to go on with him, she’d gotten the distinct impression that his talents extended way beyond his work. From what Krista could tell, R.J. was good at everything.

Problem was he knew it, too, and he had no trouble walking around with that arrogant can’t-touch-this swagger.

Scarlet had originally hated R.J., but he was starting to grow on her after he’d dug around for information that helped exonerate a friend accused of murder.

And that was the other problem. R.J. had done a lot of things lately for both her and Scarlet with no strings attached—including passing a few paying jobs over to Krista. Well, there were some strings. He’d wanted a date. And then he’d wanted a kiss...

“No R.J.,” Scarlet said emphatically. “I’ll call John. Mac can then take the notes and the bottle to a private lab.”

“That’ll cost a fortune.”

“He paid us upfront, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but—”

“So he should be good for additional expenses.”

Scarlet was right. Krista had insisted on payment upfront. She didn’t think Adam would do it. But he’d wired the money into their bank account yesterday afternoon, including a thousand dollars a day for expenses—three days in advance.

“I’ll get Dave and Trina’s full names and have Mac run a background on them as well,” Krista said.

“They didn’t talk to me. I stood in front of them for ten minutes while you were interrogating your ex and they talked like I wasn’t in the room. And worse, they talked about food. Now I’m hungry.”

Krista pulled an energy bar out of her purse and tossed it to Scarlet. “Adam hates being alone. I’m worried that they’re using him, especially now that he has a good gig with the
Moon Drop
franchise. If that movie does half as well as people think it will, his popularity will skyrocket.”

“The faster we know what’s going on, the faster we can get out of here.”

“I thought you wanted to ski.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Not this bad.” Then she looked around the huge room, taking in the king-sized bed with six pillows, the sofa, the giant television, plus a floor-to-ceiling window with a mountain view. “This room is bigger than my entire apartment.”

“My
bedroom
is bigger than your entire apartment,” Krista said. Scarlet was staring out the window and looked surprisingly sad. “Hey, what’s really been eating you these last couple of weeks?” She thought back. “Thanksgiving—it started around Thanksgiving. Did something happen with your dad?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Scarlet.”

She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe this thing with Alex and me has run its course.”

Krista hoped Scarlet was wrong. Detective Alex Bishop was the only thing that had stopped Scarlet from going psycho-stalker on the Vartarians. Problem—there was no proof that they were behind the ambush that nearly killed the two of them.

At first, Krista had thought Alex was the next in a long line of cop-lovers that Scarlet had gone through over the last three years. Scarlet never stuck with any of them for long. Within a month, she’d dump them or do something purposely to screw up the relationship. It happened so regularly that after she and Alex had been dating a month, Krista kept waiting for Scarlet to come over with a bottle of tequila and celebrate another failed relationship. (Scarlet celebrated break-ups—her partner had a warped sense of humor.)

Scarlet and Alex had been going pretty hot and heavy for three and a half months. Krista liked Alex—he was good for her best friend. After everything that happened three years ago in the ambush and the subsequent fallout, Scarlet
deserved
a good guy who cared about her. And it was clear to Krista—even though Scarlet and Alex hadn’t said anything—that they were both serious.

“Run its course?” Krista shook her head. “Not on Alex’s end.”

“Why do you say that?” Scarlet glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, and Krista saw a side of Scarlet that she’d never seen before. Scarlet was
insecure
about her relationship. She’d never been insecure, especially with men.

Krista was going to press Scarlet to find out what really happened around Thanksgiving, but a terrified scream echoed through the suite.

Chapter Two

Scarlet was two steps behind Krista only because she’d taken five seconds to pull her gun from her backpack. They rushed into the living room, both searching for the threat.

Krista’s ex stood in the middle of the room with Trina, the acting coach. He was holding her in an odd way—one hand under her breasts and one hand on her back.

“Did you feel it?” Trina asked.

“Wow,” Adam said.

“What the hell?” Krista shouted.

Adam and Trina jumped. Scarlet circled the room to make sure they hadn’t missed something, but she had the distinct feeling that she’d gone down the rabbit hole and landed in an alternate universe.

“You have a gun,” Adam said, his eyes tracking Scarlet. “Why do you have a gun?”

“When someone screams like they’re being attacked by a knife-wielding psychopath, I prefer to have a lethal weapon,” Scarlet snapped. She ascertained that there was no danger in the room and holstered her gun. She was no longer a cop, but she still wore a holster threaded through her belt in the small of her back. She’d carried a firearm for twelve years as a cop and still felt naked without it.

Adam stared at her as if she’d spoken Greek.

“Translate for him,” Scarlet said to Krista.

“Adam, what are you doing? We heard Trina scream.”

Adam was still wary of Scarlet and stepped closer to Krista. “You don’t have a gun, do you?”

“Yes,” Krista said. “Answer the question.”

“We’re, uh, Trina is teaching me to project better. It’s actually kind of cool,” he said. “I can feel her voice in her diaphragm and back. She really helped me in
Moon Drop
, and I want to do better next time.”

Scarlet watched as angry-face Krista turned to sweet-face Krista. Adam Brock was like a little boy. He was excited over the simplest things and wanted to please everyone. Scarlet could see Krista falling for him six years ago. He had the hot surfer-dude appeal and award-winning smile, all blond and California, a lot like Krista herself. But Krista had a working brain, and Scarlet suspected God had been distracted when He got to Adam. He seemed to have given him a double dose of good looks, but skimped on IQ points.

“Warn me next time,” Krista told Trina.

Scarlet said, “Krista, I’m going downstairs to find our bags and call John.”

Krista looked panicked at the prospect of being alone with her ex. She glanced at Trina and said, “Trina, right? We need to talk. And I need to talk to Dave as well.”

“Sure, if you think it’ll help,” Trina said.

When it was clear Adam was going to stay, Krista said, “Adam, I need to talk to Trina alone.”

“Why?” he said.

“Because.”

“Oh. Okay. We’re going skiing though. We want to get up the mountain by noon.”

“Scarlet, that’s all you,” Krista said to her. They’d already agreed that Scarlet would be responsible for protecting Adam outside of the hotel, including on the slopes. Which was fine by Scarlet, she loved skiing.

Scarlet walked over to Adam. He stepped back. She kind of liked it. Good cop, bad cop. He should be scared. If someone really
was
out to get him, he was a sitting duck—not just because he was up here on this remote mountain, but because he was so naive he’d never see a threat coming.

“Adam, listen up. You do not leave your hotel suite without either me or Krista with you, understand? That includes skiing. We need your complete itinerary for the weekend, every place you plan to be, when you plan to be there, who’s going with you. Got it?”

He nodded, eyes wide, and glanced at Krista. “What am I supposed to do right now?”

“It’s nearly eleven,” Krista said. “Go to you room, get ready for skiing, and wait for me to get you. Scarlet will handle the ski run while I talk to hotel security.”

“Okay. Thanks, Kay. I mean it. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come.”

“We’ll find out what’s going on. We’re going to send someone to retrieve the champagne bottle from your trash and look for the notes. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure. The key’s under the mat.”

Scarlet wanted to hit him upside the head. “You leave the key to your apartment under your mat?”

“It’s an extra.”

“That’s an obvious place.”

“Exactly! It’s so obvious that no one would think to look for it there.”

Scarlet opened her mouth then shut it. She had nothing to say.   

Krista walked her to the door. “I’ll talk to him about the key,” Krista assured her. “
After
John goes over there.”

“You sure you don’t want to ski with him?”

“Absolutely not. You promised me you wouldn’t leave me alone with him.”

“I’m sure Trina and Dave will be skiing too. You know how I
love
small talk.”

“Adam is great on the slopes. You’ll be able to keep up with him. I haven’t been skiing since ... well, since college.”

Scarlet let out a long sigh. “I’ll do it. That’s why I wanted this job anyway.” Skiing, the money, and the fact that she was avoiding her boyfriend.

Scarlet left. She’d almost told Krista about what was going on with Alex, but thinking it through, she’d realized that she still wasn’t certain where she stood with him. She’d
thought
they had something more than sex between them. The sex was fabulous, and then they’d started to spend more time together. Her place. His place. She now expected to wake up next to him in the mornings. And then ... One night he had to work, the next he had paperwork, the next he had switched shifts with someone else. She had the distinct impression that he was avoiding her.

And now, Christmas. His parents lived in Sacramento and he was going home for two days next week. What had she thought, that he’d give up his family for her? Of course not. He hadn’t seen them since moving to Orange County four months ago. Or maybe she’d thought that he might invite her to join him. She didn’t know that she would have gone—Christmas with Alex’s parents would be weird. She and her ex-fiancé Matt had already been living together by the time she met his mom.

But an
invitation
would have been nice. She and Alex had been seeing each other for three and a half months. For Scarlet, that was longer than anyone since Matt. That had been a two year commitment, but both before and after him, no one had lasted longer than a few weeks.

That made Alex the second longest relationship of her life. And she didn’t know what she’d done or said that had pushed him away. She was difficult, she could be cranky, and she was putting in long hours investigating the Vartarian clan. But she always found time for him. She wanted to see him.

Maybe it was nothing she’d done. Maybe it was him. Maybe he woke up Thanksgiving morning and looked at her and realized he didn’t want her.

Krista was right—this
had
started at Thanksgiving. Alex had planned to come to Scarlet’s dad’s house for dinner. He’d cancelled. Shift change, he’d said. But Alex didn’t have to take anyone’s shift. He could have done
something
different.

But it wasn’t even that. Scarlet had been a cop, and she knew single cops got tagged for holidays more than married cops. It was fine—cops should be with their families when they had them. But Alex hadn’t looked her in the eye. He’d avoided her, and she’d known that he was lying. Maybe not about the shift change, but about something.

Scarlet had never cared much when a relationship ended. Sure, it stung sometimes, but it was life, right? Even Matt hadn’t been as big of a deal as she’d thought. It had been rather easy to walk away from him when he told her that he didn’t believe she and Krista had been set up in an ambush. She couldn’t marry anyone who didn’t have faith in her.

In fact, she was more upset about the prospect of never seeing Alex again than she had been when she walked out on her two-year relationship with Matt.

Get over it, Moreno.

She had more pride than this. Next time she saw Alex, she’d flat out ask him what was going on. If he was going to split with her, he would damn well tell her, and not do this wishy-washy pulling away thing. She wasn’t going to beg him to be with her. She had more self-respect than that. And if he thought he could just slip away undetected, she’d make damn sure he knew what a wimp he was. She liked him a lot, but if he didn’t want to spend time with her, she’d live. And that’s exactly what she would say to him.

Resolved, she thought she would feel better. But she only felt worse.

Scarlet walked up to the reception desk. Mr. Oliver was still there and he still had a stick up his ass. “The bell hop took our bags. They didn’t make it upstairs. Where can I get them?”

He looked down his arrogant eagle nose. She wanted to break it.

Without a word, he tapped twice on the bell in front of him.

A minute later, the bell hop who’d originally taken their bags popped into view. His name tag read
Vince
.

Before Mr. Oliver could speak, she said, “Hey, Vince, my bags?”

He looked confused. “Yeah—sorry, Ms. Moreno—I had a room service call and put them in the storage room. I’ll get them right away.”

Vince left and Scarlet wrinkled her nose at Mr. Oliver then crossed the lobby toward the bar. She wanted a beer. But if she had to play babysitting duty with Airhead Adam, she couldn’t drink.

Tonight. She’d make Krista stay sober so she could have a couple beers. Though after this weekend, her best friend was going to need something a lot stronger than a beer.

Dave, Adam’s manager or agent or whatever Adam had called him, walked briskly through the lobby without a glance in her direction. Sure, she was standing discreetly behind a potted tree near the registration desk, but Dave was definitely a man with a purpose. He went to the bar and looked around.

Was he waiting for someone? He didn’t seem happy. Not so much angry as worried.

She took a photo of him with her cell phone and then walked around the plant to get a better angle of the room.

Dave looked at his watch and then pulled out his phone and texted someone. He stared at the phone as if willing the person to respond. A moment later, he jammed it back into his pocket. Either he’d had a response he didn’t like or no response at all.

Then he crossed the bar back toward the lobby, and Scarlet shifted again so he wouldn’t see her. She had out her phone and pretended to be reading something, just in case he looked her way.

“What’s going on, Tiff?” Dave asked.

Scarlet looked up. Dave was standing face to face with the one-line actress Tiffany from Adam’s room. She had on jeans and a T-shirt that fell off her shoulder. It looked good on the buxom blonde, but Scarlet hated the style.

Scarlet couldn’t hear what Tiffany said, and they moved back toward the bar and sat down at a table in the far corner—even though there were only a few people sitting around the space.

Dave had made no indication upstairs that he knew Tiffany, but they had their heads together and were touching.
Almost
touching.

Were they involved? If they were, why hadn’t they greeted each other upstairs? Dave seemed to be angry about something, his hands moving all over and a frown creasing his forehead, but Tiffany didn’t appear scared. She was talking emphatically, also using her hands a lot.

The main doors opened and a rush of cold air blew in with a group of four women. They were clad in ski gear, sans skis, and shook off their jackets and hats. Every one of them had long blond hair.

Scarlet wrinkled her nose. How much time did it take to straighten all that hair? She much preferred her short, wash and towel-dry style.

“Tiff!” one of the women exclaimed. “Where were you?”

Tiffany looked like a five year old with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

The group walked into the bar, completely ignoring Dave.

Scarlet couldn’t hear anything they said, but the expression on Tiffany’s face was both embarrassment and indignation. Was that even possible?

Then suddenly she jumped up and hugged the tallest of the blondes. The five of them giggled—yes,
giggled
—and ran out of the bar and up the wide staircase at the opposite end of the lobby.

Dave looked like he’d been run over by a train.

Vince approached with Scarlet’s luggage. “Where would you like your bags, Ms. Moreno?”

“Adam Brock’s suite,” she said. “But leave my skis and duffle bag right here—we’re going out in a few.”

“Certainly,” he said.

Scarlet made a beeline to where Dave still sat and plopped down in the chair Tiffany had just vacated. “What’s going on?” she asked.

He blinked and stared at her. “What?”

“It’s not a hard question. You didn’t make goo-goo eyes at Tiffany upstairs, why are you keeping your relationship a secret?”

He blushed.
Blushed.
“We don’t have a relationship. And it’s none of your business.”