Frost Security: The Complete 5 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  Got it. Be right behind you, I texted back, then tossed the phone back down.

  Thirty more minutes, then I’d finally get a change of scenery. That’d be nice. At least that would mean I was doing more than just sitting around.

  Unfortunately, I’d be doing a lot more.

  Chapter Twenty-two – Jessica

  “Alright, girl,” I said, coming back into the office after giving the gallery floor a good sweeping down, “I’m about to close up shop.”

  “Already?” Sheila asked. “It’s not even three yet.”

  “Sorry, it’s just been a long day and I’m ready to get out of here. Things really die down around this time, anyways.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  I shrugged. “Had a sale earlier today, but it wasn’t with a new client. But it’s enough to keep us open for the rest of the month, at least.”

  “You know, Jess, I need to level with you,” Sheila said, gesturing to the visitor chair. Her voice didn’t sound too confident or happy.

  I sat down uneasily in the indicated chair, my hands folded in my lap.

  Sheila glanced to the computer screen and bit her lip like a doctor about to diagnose me with cancer. “I’ve been doing all your accounting for the gallery since Blake died and, well, things aren’t pretty. I think you know that, too.”

  I nodded. I knew things were tight. I’d never really had to worry too much about them in the past, because Blake took care of everything. There had always been money in the bank when I needed it, even during my down months.

  “I mean, if Wyatt backs off,” she continued, “but stays as a part owner in this thing without contributing any money, I don’t know what you’re going to do. His uncle was pretty much keeping this place afloat, especially during the off-seasons like this. If art sales stay down like they have, that’s it. You don’t really have an art gallery anymore.”

  A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, in all seriousness, you need to really consider taking Wyatt’s money. He’s offering substantially more than you’d ever get for your portion of ownership in this place.”

  “Could I save it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Could I salvage the gallery, put it in the black?”

  She sighed and screwed her mouth to the side. “Maybe? But you’d need to invest in it pretty heavily, maybe get a loan from a bank or something. And even then, well, the chances of you even getting one are pretty slim.”

  I sagged into my chair. “So you think I should just take the money and run?”

  “Do something. Anything! Right now, there’s just not much of a way forward, not the way you’re going. You need to change something.”

  I nodded slowly, trying to absorb everything my best friend had just told me. “I’m fucked, then?”

  She winced. “Yeah, kind of. Not unless you figure out a way to unfuck yourself. And, believe me, that’s easier said than done.”

  And, just like that, I felt like my world was slipping away. First Blake dying, then the stalker, followed by Wyatt, and now this. I rested my head on my fist. “Just give up, then?”

  “I didn’t say that. Look, Daddy’s first business failed. It happens. You just start over in a new place with a new idea. Maybe you need to put a gift shop in here or next door. Something you don’t want to do, but something that makes you even more money during the season so you can float more easily through the bad. Diversify.”

  I let out a peal of sharp laughter. “Diversify?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Said so yourself earlier, girl, you gotta do some things you don’t wanna do if you wanna make money. At least it’s not getting in bed as a money launderer, right?”

  The only problem, though, was where I could get the money to diversify my business and save it. I sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

  I glanced up at the time on the old clock hanging from the wall. “But, hey, I told Richard I was going to be leaving soon. So, doom and gloom aside, I should probably get going.”

  She pushed back from the desk with a long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry I had to be the one to break the news to you, Jess.”

  I went to stand and shook my head. “don’t be sorry. It’s better to know ahead of time than it is to find out when the rent check doesn’t clear, right? This just helps me plan ahead, that’s all, and maybe save some heartache. I owe you a thank you, actually.”

  “What are you planning on doing?” she asked as I came around and grabbed my purse.

  “Sleep on it?” I asked with a humorlous laugh. “But, for real, I don’t know.”

  She got up from the desk and scooped up her purse as well, slinging it over her shoulder.

  “Right now,” I continued, “I have to deal with Richard trying to put me in a safe house, and all this other craziness. I mean, hell, the way things are going I might not even have to worry about rent.”

  She frowned from the doorway as I came around, purse in one hand, keys in the other. She threw her arms wide open and, without warning, pulled me into a big hug. She held me like that for a moment. “Well, when everything else is figured out,” she said, “I’ll still be here to help you. Okay?”

  I nodded, smiled tightly. “Yeah, I know. You’re a good friend, Sheila. You know that?”

  She smiled wide. “I try.”

  She left the gallery first, but I hung back for a moment to make sure all the lights and electronics were powered down. With that done, I stood there at the front door, just looking forlornly at the most solid thing tying me to Enchanted Rock. With the lights off, it looked like an empty room, a place that had once held the hopes and dreams of a twenty-something-year-old girl who’d come back to her hometown with a head full of ambition, but no know-how.

  Maybe I should take the money? Sheila had said so herself, the Curious Turtle was just going to close down eventually anyways without a cash infusion. If Wyatt Axelrod bought me out he’d at least be able to keep the space, and Enchanted Rock would still have an art gallery to call its own. Sure, it’d be used for laundering dirty money, but at least it would be open this time next year, which meant some of the artists who partially depended on my gallery to display and sell their artwork would be able to feed their own families.

  I just slowly shook my head. I didn’t know how to get out of this, and I wasn’t sure if anyone else did either.

  Chapter Twenty-three – Richard

  Jessica came walking out of the Curious Turtle about five minutes earlier than she’d predicted, but I was ready with the keys in the ignition as soon as she set foot outside the front door. She climbed into her little Volkswagen, adjusted a few things, then pulled away from the curb and merged with traffic. I merged right along behind her, leaving about fifty feet or more between us, and followed her out onto the highway that led to her little cabin on the outskirts of town.

  Traffic died away as we left city limits. I say traffic, of course, but what we have in Enchanted Rock is nothing compared to any actual city. Here, it’s a few cars, a handful of old clunkers, and some really nice sports cars and SUVs that belong to the ultra wealthy who live in the surrounding area. I guess I could afford one of them but I figured, why bother? This old Jeep Wrangler was more than I’d ever needed. It could get me through the gorgeous weather, like today, and through the heavy storms of winter.

  I kept a good distance between us, not feeling that I needed to rush.

  But, as drove I behind her, taking my time, I heard the motorcycle engines rumbling behind me, roaring as they gunned their engines to catch up. I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw five bikes as they came rolling up on my tail. They were all men, wearing the same black leather vests I’d seen earlier on Wyatt Axelrod. I couldn’t see what was on the back, but I’d put real money on it being a skull and crossed bones.

  “Shit,” I breathed, my eyes flickering forward to watch Jessica as she turned a bend in the road, disappearing from view behind a rocky outcroppi
ng. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  The engine noise rose as one of the bikers revved his engine and swung out into oncoming traffic. No one was coming, unfortunately, and he pulled up level with me on his chopper. He was a big, burly looking dude with a beard that would have made a bear blush. He looked over towards me, pointed a blunted, gnarled finger right at me and nodded.

  I seriously considered just side-swiping the guy, but figured that would send him right over the side and down into a gully. In a car he’d be dead from a crash like that, but on a bike it would be even worse. Hell, even if we weren’t in Colorado, I’d still have killed him with that stunt. And I’d already escalated this situation enough by kicking their president’s ass. I didn’t need to kill one of them.

  Instead, I just shook my head.

  He grinned and nodded in response, stabbed the same finger at his chest, then at me again.

  I sighed, rolling my eyes. Clearly, he wanted to fight, but this time outside city limits. I didn’t like leaving Jessica like this, having her head home to the cabin alone, but what else could I do? Drag the whole gang of guys out to her place? Well, of course I could. If they decided to fight me there, then they decided to fight me there. At least Jessica would be with her dogs. Maybe Eli could offer some form of protection.

  No, I decided, I needed to stay with her. That’s what I was being paid for, not to have fights on the side of the road with an outlaw biker gang, even if they were threatening my client’s life in some way.

  The biker revved his engine again, the roar ripping through the mountainside like an angry bull, snapping me out of my thoughts and back to the situation at hand.

  I just couldn’t do it, no matter how much I wanted to kick that smug look off his face. I locked eyes with him and shook my head again.

  Pussy, he mouthed.

  I snorted. Unbelievable.

  He gestured to the rest of the guys behind me, and suddenly their bikes were all roaring as they spread out and raced ahead of me.

  At first I thought I knew what they were doing. They were trying to just bypass me and get to Jessica. I gunned the Jeep, sending it barreling ahead like a freight train. But then I realized what they were really doing as they swung around.

  All five of the bikes, in a nearly solid line across both lanes of the highway, put on their brakes.

  “Shit!” I yelled as I slammed on my own, stomping hard, locking the wheels so I skidded forward. I did it on instinct, nothing more. What I should have done, though, was slam my foot down on the gas, press the pedal to the metal, and just keep going even if I knocked them over like bowling pins.

  The smell of burnt rubber filled the cab of the Jeep as I cut the wheel to the right, trying to avoid them by nudging towards the shoulder. I came to a shrieking halt, my Jeep lurching as I slammed forward in the seat and rebounded back into it.

  The two bikes that were facing oncoming traffic pulled their bikes up in front of their buddies’ hogs, and all five men swung their legs off their rides and began to approach.

  “Just you and me, handsome!” the lead rider shouted as he stopped about five feet from my Jeep. “No one else!”

  I could take him. I’d taken down bigger guys than him on a boring Saturday night back in my bouncer days.

  But, still, my thoughts were with Jessica. Why had they cut me off like this? What was their plan?

  Chapter Twenty-four – Jessica

  I didn’t think anything of it when Richard disappeared from my rear view mirror. He’d been hanging back a little ways behind me anyways as we took the twists and turns going around the mountain, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary with him not coming back into view immediately.

  What did seem out of the ordinary, though, was the big truck that seemingly appeared out of nowhere!

  It was a hulking old Chevy, painted black like someone had gotten carried away with the spray can. It came trundling out of nowhere, appearing right on my tail. The pickup loomed behind me, filling my rear mirror like it was trying to get me to pull over so it could pass. They were right on my rear bumper, so close I couldn’t even see the driver’s face in the large, lifted truck.

  I figured it was just some jackass. We had as many of them in these mountains as any other place on the planet, and some people were just assholes. They weren’t having any of it. Freaked out, I tried to wave it by again, my arm frantically waving back and forth. There wasn’t any oncoming traffic, and they had plenty of room to pass me if they wanted.

  Instead, the driver just laid on their horn, blaring it over the music on my radio.

  Really freaked out now, I waved more fervently.

  The pickup’s engine roared like a lion as they gassed it and pulled up beside me. A shadow seemed to fall over my car, cloaking me like a sinister cape as the truck came closer to the driver’s side door, the roar of its heavy treaded tires singing on the highway as it swerved towards me, stopping just inches away from my door.

  Sudden fear gripped my heart. I slammed on the brakes, not knowing what else to do. Where was Richard? Who was this truck? Was it the Skull and Bones?

  The truck slammed on its brakes and swerved into my car, the crunch of metal on metal filling my world as the steering wheel lurched out of my hands.

  I screamed as I tried to regain control of the wheel to keep myself in the lane.

  The pickup pulled away again and slammed into my little Jetta once more. My car lurched to the right, my tires smoking as tears began to stream down my face.

  I kept my foot on the brakes, the only thing I could think to do, and drove up onto the minuscule shoulder. I screamed again and tried to think of what to do, but my brain was panicking and no ideas came to me. Should I try and run?

  My car’s tires threw up gravel, peppering the underside with rocks and pebbles as my wheels slowed to a halt just as I hit the mountain side guard rail. I coasted a little further, my eyes tracking a big rock. My car thunked again loudly, and lurched up into the air before coming back down again. Thank God it wasn’t the other side! I’d be over a cliff, down into the pines below if I’d been over there.

  Up ahead, the truck came to a stop, its tail lights like the eyes of Satan himself. I saw a hand reach up and adjust the rear view mirror.

  What were they doing? I couldn’t tell. I just knew I was out here on this stretch of road, all alone, just me and them. Even during the day it wasn’t frequently traveled. All sorts of things could happen here, and I wouldn’t have anyone to help me.

  My breath came hot and ragged, burning my lungs with each exhale. This was it. My stalkers, the Skull and Bones, they’d trapped me without the protection of my bodyguard.

  I watched as the reverse light popped on, bright white and blazing against those hellish tail lights, a New Mexico plate on the rear bumper.

  Panicked, I looked behind me and threw my car in reverse. I’d run. That’s what I’d do! I began to pull my car out and return the way I’d come.

  Then, just as suddenly as it had all begun, the black pickup shifted gears back to drive, and the rear tires squealed like a duet of angry banshees as it took off down the road in a fishtail.

  My heart still pumping like I’d taken a double black diamond slope at breakneck speed, my face perspiring like I’d just hiked ten miles uphill, I watched in disbelief as the pickup disappeared down the highway.

  As I looked into the highway in fear, I realized why it left. Another car, an old silver Mustang, came barreling around the corner, zipping past me with a burbling of its smooth engine.

  Though the driver didn’t come to my aid, I still breathed a sigh of relief at my savior’s unlikely passing. Because, even if Richard wasn’t around, at least the pickup wasn’t either.

  Chapter Twenty-five – Richard

  This was it. There was no getting by these guys unless I wanted to run them down in my Jeep, and I knew it.

  The big, burly biker who’d pulled up beside me first now stood in the middle of the line of Skull and Bones riders. Comin
g in at at least six-five, Big Bear towered over his compatriots, which was pretty impressive in and of itself. He probably had a hundred pounds on me, too, and looked to be solid muscle through and through. Where Wyatt Axelrod had a little bit of paunch around his waist, though, Big Bear had at least a keg of solid mass.

  “Don’t worry, buddy,” Big Bear called as I sat there on the road. “You wanna turn this into a shooting war, we’ll be more than happy to oblige. Otherwise, you can come right out here and fight me like a man.”

  I could turn this into a shooting war, I realized. They were armed, clearly, and they were threatening me. No court in the world would find me guilty for defending my life and property. But I still didn’t think it would fix anything. There would be more of these guys where they came from. Instead, I opened up my door and, gun held in the air with my finger clearly away from the trigger, I stepped out onto the lonely highway.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked, pistol still in hand. “Trying to get me away from the girl?”

  “The girl? What girl? I wanna fight you, you fucking dumbass,” Big Bear called. “Wanna show you what the fuck you get for sucker punching a Bonesman.”

  “Sucker punch?” I asked, a little shocked. “Come on, I didn’t fucking sucker punch the guy. He swung first for fuck’s sake. How’d I sucker punch him?”

  “You calling our president a fucking liar? That what you’re doing?”

  Well, that hadn’t worked. “Fine. Whatever. You guys gonna leave if I beat your ass?”

  “What makes you so sure we won’t leave you begging for your life?” Big Bear asked.

  I sighed. Guys like this were always the most frustrating, but they also tended to be the easiest to take down.

  “Fine,” I said, resigned. “Let’s do this.” I took my gun, ejected the clip, and cleared the chamber. I stuffed the clip in my pocket and tossed the empty gun on my driver seat. “You want any rules or anything? Like no fish hooks, eye-gouging, brass knuckles, all that?”