A Deadly Business. Desiree Holt
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the rest of the coffee and walked over to them, smiling.
“Of course. What would you like to know?”
She went through her usual spiel with them, answering questions about the artist and what location the painting depicted. She considered it a good omen for the weekend when they bought the painting and didn’t quibble about the price. Still, she couldn’t shake that bad-vibe feeling. She was wrapping the painting in protective paper when she looked up to see Laura Danforth standing in the doorway of the packing room.
“You know, we’ve been coming here every year for the past ten years, all except for last year. I just told Howard I don’t think I remember seeing the gallery before this. Are you new?”
Marissa paused for a moment, her hands stilled in the process of taping.
She’d be new to a lot of people. It didn’t mean anything.
Or did it?
“Well, new to you, I guess. I moved here two years ago. I think just about a month after the Fourth of July celebration.”
“How do you like it?”
She looked up at the woman and smiled “I love it. Arrowhead Bay is a warm and friendly town. I’m on the water. The people are great. This was a very good move for me.”
“What brought you down here?” Howard Danforth had joined his wife and stood there with his arm draped around her shoulder.
Marissa studied them for a moment. They looked harmless, relaxed and happy like any other tourist couple here for the celebration and festivities. But she’d learned over and over that appearances deceived, and you should never take anyone at face value. She had their information from the credit card receipt. She’d just ask Avery to run a check.
She lifted the wrapped picture and handed it to Howard.
“Enjoy your painting.”
“Oh, we will,” Linda Danforth gushed. “Every time I look at it I’ll think of being back here at Arrowhead Bay.” She looked around as she and her husband headed toward the door. “This is a very nice gallery. You have a great selection, and I always love discovering local talent. I’ll be sure to tell our friends about it.”
“Thank you so much. Please come back again next year.”
The moment they were gone she hurried to her little office, grabbed a bottle of water from her minifridge, and drank half of it down before taking a breath. It disturbed her to see a slight tremor in her hands. What was the matter with her? For three tense years in London, under the very nose of one of the most vicious men in the world, she’d had nerves of steel. Now, despite the safety of her new surroundings, it seemed she was jumping at shadows. She supposed that was what happened with living every day knowing that Stefan Maes had vowed to destroy her.
She capped the water bottle and returned it to the fridge. This was ridiculous. Her old identity was buried under multiple layers. She’d grown out her hair from the short auburn flip she’d worn for three years and let it go back to its natural long honey brown. Just that alone had made a drastic change in her appearance. She’d even gained ten pounds; a fact she wasn’t sure she was all that happy about. She had changed her wardrobe, and even trained herself to walk differently. It still amazed her the things the CIA could train a person to do when changing or burying an identity.
So cool it, she told herself. The Howards were just what they seemed, a boating couple here for the weekend. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have Avery check them out.
As busy as the morning turned out to be, she didn’t have time to give much thought to the situation, and by noon her nerves had settled, and her sales had exploded. She made a note to bring out items she had stored and to contact the local artists she worked with to see what they had they’d like her to show.
She was just closing down her computer and thinking about lunch when the bell jingled to announce someone. Wearing her best public face, she hurried out of the office and relaxed when she saw it was Justin.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I can’t tell if that expression on your face means you’re glad to see me or if I should turn around and walk out.”
Her laugh had a slight hysterical edge. “Glad to see you. Very glad.”
His face sobered. “Trouble?”
For the first time since the CIA had recruited her, she was struck with an urge to unburden herself to someone and have them assure her things were fine. What was up with that? She hadn’t needed anyone for a long time. Maybe it was the unsettled feeling she’d been plagued with of late, a feeling that told her she might not be as safe as she thought.
Stop it, she thought. Why was she seeing dragons all of a sudden?
She forced her mouth into a smile. “Oh, no, no trouble. Just very busy. Way more than last year.”
“But that’s good, right?”
“Yes. It is.” She waved her hand around the display area. “I’ve replaced at least half of the art on display since I opened. I don’t remember the crowd being this big last year.”
“It keeps growing every year. Avery sent me to fetch you for lunch. She has a table at the Driftwood and she saved space for you.”
Lunch? With people she didn’t know?
But why was she spooked? Nothing had happened.
“Oh, I don’t know…” She twisted her hands together. The Danforths had tickled her Spidey senses and unnerved her. She wasn’t sure she was up to facing the crowd at the restaurant.
“It’s just lunch, Marissa. With a couple of nice people.” Justin smiled, but she caught a questioning look in his eyes. “Come on. You can sit next to me and I’ll protect you. Or maybe you can try out some of those kickboxing techniques if someone pisses you off.”
She couldn’t help the tiny laugh that escaped.
“You must think I’m an idiot. I’m just not a very social person.”
“Oh, I think you’re very social.” He winked. “And sociable. Come on. Lock up and we’ll head over there.”
“I can’t believe she got a table. Is there even a place to park?”
He nodded. “A little thing like a crowd never stops Avery.”
Marissa double-checked the alarm when she set it. Her training had taught her to be extra cautious whenever she sensed something might be off. Even though she might be chasing shadows where there were none, she wasn’t about to take chances.
Justin helped her into the black Vigilance SUV he’d parked by a fire hydrant.
“Aren’t you afraid of getting a ticket?” she teased.
“I didn’t think I’d be long. And besides, I have a little pull with the police department.” He glanced over at her. “All set?”
She nodded.
“Not my business, but you seem a little uptight today,” he commented as he pulled smoothly away from the curb into traffic.
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now. This big weekend. Some other stuff.”
“You know, I’m a good listener if you ever want to bounce anything off of me.”
What she wanted to bounce off him weren’t ideas. Her hormones, so ruthlessly suppressed for so long, had decided to revolt.
“Good to know. And thank you. I’ll remember that.”
The parking lot at the Driftwood was as jammed as she’d expected, but Justin wheeled the SUV into a slot with a Reserved sign.
“It’s good to know the right people,” he teased. “Come on. I prescribe a glass of wine with lunch.”
Marissa seldom drank anything stronger