Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 122440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“You can’t risk being seen,” she told him, calling out from the shower. That water pouring down in the shower hadn’t deterred him in the least. He’d joined her and made it very clear that she needed to be with him. Even after making his feelings perfectly clear, Wilder solemnly handed her clothes and watched her dress.
“Stop looking pathetic. Alek is a dear friend and totally in distress. He’s married and very much in love with his wife.”
“I get it,” Wilder said. “But I swear, this is the last time you’re going somewhere important without me. And you wait for Rainier. He said he’d be here in ten. He’s not a man to be late.”
She had kissed him. Even when he talked tough, he was still the best man she knew. She’d take him every single time. Now she watched Rainier gently maneuver Shabina through the kitchen. The look on his face was priceless when he didn’t think an enemy was close. Harlow was pretty sure that when she looked at Wilder she mirrored that goofy, in-love expression Rainier wore looking at Shabina.
Alek hadn’t seen any of the byplay between them. He’d barely greeted them before abruptly turning away to lead them through the kitchen. Still, she’d caught a glimpse of his face etched with deep lines of worry. She had grown up with people despising her, which included her parents, so she had become somewhat immune to this kind of situation. Alek was used to everyone liking him. He was a kind man. A fair one. This had to be a terrible shock. He didn’t have enemies.
Shabina stopped abruptly, and Rainier halted with her, his arms wrapping around her to pull her into the shelter of his body.
“Alek,” Shabina whispered.
Harlow started forward to get around Rainier in order to see what had Shabina in such shock when fingers formed a shackle around her bicep. She swung around, one palm going up defensively.
“It’s just me, Harlow,” Sam’s voice informed her. She recognized that voice before she did him. That was how startled she was.
“Would you please make noise when you’re sneaking up on someone?” she demanded.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “If I’m sneaking, I’m not supposed to make a sound.”
“You took ten years off my life,” she accused. “And I’m certain my hair’s gone gray in just these last few seconds.”
“You were never the drama queen sort,” he said. “Zahra, yes, Stella can be one, but not you, Harlow. I appreciate the try.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Alek is a good friend. He called me. I was headed this way early to take a dog to the vet. That’s where Stella is.”
“Oh no, is the dog going to be all right? Which one?”
“I’ll tell you about that later. Wilder called, saying you were going to be here with Rainier and Shabina. He asked me to fill in for him. I’m going to do that, but bottom line, woman, you should have called me.”
“Did it possibly occur to you that I’ll be just fine?”
“Lots of things happening right now, Harlow. You lean on family. That’s what I am to you.”
Sam, in his gentle, low voice, was laying down the law. She’d heard him use that voice on Stella. Stella never recognized it as Sam’s bottom line, that whatever she said or did after that point meant he would pick her up and carry her to bed. Stella always seemed perfectly fine with Sam’s methods.
“Thanks for coming. Wilder is very upset that he’s not with me,” she conceded. If Sam’s presence alleviated Wilder’s worries and made Sam feel as if he was doing something for her, she had no problem giving them both the concession. She felt bad for Alek, but she didn’t think she needed comfort.
And then Rainier stepped aside, and she was staring straight into the restaurant Alek had spent a fortune on renovating. The long length of the southern wall had been covered in artwork from many of the premier or up-and-coming artists living in Knightly. The photograph Alek had acquired from Harlow, titled Frost and Venom, had been flanked by two of the newer artists showcasing their work. One painting on canvas was of a beautiful blue heron walking on long legs in the canal. Edward Fenton had painted it. On the other side of her photograph was another painting on canvas done by a local artist, Georgette Les Paul, a rather famous artist who sold at some of the most prestigious galleries in New York and Chicago. There were six other local artists of varying talents that Alek had displayed on the same wall. Two tall pedestals were set up on either end of the wall, exhibiting Tom and Judy’s pottery.
Broken glass and cases littered the floor. Whoever had vandalized the building had smashed the protective cases holding the paintings. The pedestals had been overturned and the pottery smashed. Black paint had been thrown over the artwork and the newly painted wall. The paint was thick and ran down the wall in muddy rivers to the floor to pool in what appeared, to Harlow’s artistic mind, to be heavy lava flows.