meet once a week so I could check on his progress. He slowly improved. We got to know each other very well.”
She drifted off and Jasper would love to know what her last sentence had made her remember. How much had she told Bernie? Maybe Bernie—other than Steven—was the only other living soul who really knew Sadie Moreno from a remote area of Wyoming who seemed to have carried at least some of her past with her to her new life, namely, the Ferrari.
“Why did you move to Wyoming?” he asked.
Her rumination on the past ended and Jasper watched her eyes grow guarded as she looked at him. “I wanted to get away from the life my father had.”
“What kind of life was that?”
“Rich.” She looked away.
“Why do you have such tight security here?” he asked.
“I like to feel safe.”
“Locking your doors doesn’t do that?”
After a few seconds she met his eyes across the distance between the bed and the seating area. “What are your plans for the investigation? What will you do to start?”
Okay, that was all he’d get out of her for now. “I have a message in to the lead investigator. I’ll talk to him first and ask for a copy of the file. Then I’ll spend a fair amount of time researching that.”
She nodded and then closed her eyes, the painkillers apparently taking effect.
Jasper stood. “I’ll let you get some rest. I won’t be far.” He put a small, round device with a green call button down on the table, within her reach. “Press that and I’ll be here.”
“What is this?”
“A pager.” He showed her the pager clipped to his belt.
Her eyes rose up to his and he felt her admiration along with her wryness. “A little over the top, isn’t it?”
“For your security?” He grinned with his teasing. “Maybe.”
She smiled slightly in return.
He left her, hoping he could get more information out of her security officer.
* * *
Dwight Mitchel met him in the drawing room, another princess caliber work of architecture and interior design. Incredible crown molding bordered a recessed white painted ceiling with a huge round and tan light fixture. Pretty, ivory diamond tufted back sofas and an armless settee with throw pillows in purple, green and orange surrounded an oval glass table on an irregularly striped area rug. Although more modern than other rooms in Sadie’s home, the decor still held a decided English flair.
The guard wore jeans, combat boots and a gun harness over a black henley and stood near a drinks trolley, holding a bottle of sparkling water. A big Colonel Miles Quaritch from Avatar, he even had a scar on his right temple.
Jasper went to him and shook his hand.
“We’ve heard all about you,” Dwight said with an unsmiling face.
“I’m not surprised.”
“How can I help you?” It wasn’t a cordial question. Jasper looked past this man’s impassiveness and saw distrust.
“I’d like you to walk me through your procedures. Roles and responsibilities, that sort of thing.”
“You don’t have to worry, Mr. Roesch. Sadie’s security is well covered.”
“I need to be familiar with your protocols so I know what everyone will do in the event of an emergency, that’s all. I have no issue with the security here. In fact, it seems rather excessive.”
The ex-military man didn’t falter. “We do regular patrols around the perimeter of the property. I can give you copies of the schedule. There are two guards posted in the mechanical room 24/7. We communicate via radio.” He tapped his ear where a clear coiled wire disappeared into his shirt. “One guard at the gate. Cameras have eyes on the gate and the property inside the fenced area.”
Jasper hadn’t expected to be disappointed with the level of security. He did, however, need everyone on the security team to trust him. Taking out his wallet, he removed a business card.
“In case something happens. I’d like to be informed.” He pointed to the radio. “Maybe you could get me one of those.”
Dwight eyed him, scrutinizing him as though sizing him up, the most body language he’d seen from the man so far. “Aren’t you a detective? You’re helping the miss solve Bernie’s murder case, isn’t that right?”
“That is. But since the attempt on her life, my role has expanded. At Dark Alley Investigations, we take the safety of our clients very seriously.”
“All good to know, Mr. Roesch, but we’ve got her safety taken care of. As long as she’s in this house, it’s my job to protect her, and I take that very seriously.”
He could see that Sadie was in good hands, but the lack of trust could pose a problem.
What was it about Sadie that instilled so much loyalty? Everyone called her the miss. And everyone was fiercely protective of her, especially of her past, it appeared. What was going on with that? And did he really want to know? He should be relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about her security. He was here to solve a cold case, not satisfy curiosity over a woman. A beautiful woman. A stunning, warm, intriguing woman who stood apart from any other...
All the more reason to keep his distance. And his hands to himself.
“Why so much security?” Jasper asked.
“You’ll have to ask the miss.”
“I already did.” Jasper left it at that. Dwight didn’t seem like an ignorant man. He had to know Jasper was well aware that he and most likely everyone here protected Sadie against anyone learning about her past. And her past had nothing to do with Bernie King’s murder.
Or did it?
Two weeks later, Sadie was ready to step up her physical therapy. The doctor ordered her to rest for two weeks with walking and strength-building exercises and now she had the go-ahead to partially return to normal. Not full steam yet, but on her way.
She put on her suit with help from the maid Finley had hired. He always thought ahead like that. Ever since she’d found him and brought him to her facility, they’d grown close. He joined her program when the Revive Center was still under construction and she’d rented a large older home nearby. He’d been one of her more sensitive cases. He’d lived a normal life up until he lost his job and couldn’t find another. The bank kicked him out of his home and he’d found himself homeless. Sadie had spent extra time with him and helped him back onto his feet. Even after he’d been offered a job, he’d turned it down and declared he wanted to serve her for a profession.
Sadie had argued with him. He could do anything he wanted. Why chose servitude?
“I was a waiter before I went to prison for drugs,” he’d said.
Finley had a terrible addiction problem. Her center had addressed that first. He’d spent three months in rehabilitation before entering the Revive Program. By then the building had been complete. He had trouble finding a job with the felony on his record, and with the facility complete and pressure from Steven to keep a low profile, she had to return to Wyoming. She’d taken Finley with her and he’d studied how to manage a large house. He’d never given her a reason to regret doing so. And now he was like a brother to her. Of all who worked for her, she trusted him as much as Dwight, who’d been with her the longest.
Dwight had his own story of how he’d come to work for her. He had gone through hell in his divorce. Women could be as