his line of sight just when he tipped up the helmet to examine his work.
Dropping his welder’s torch he cursed and yanked off his helmet. H e picked up the torch and snapped off the blue flame. “Jesus! Who the hell let you two in?”
“The barn doors were open,” Pearlie said, ignoring his overheated demeanor. “Wow. This is really beautiful.”
“Bethany’s dad sent us,” I said, and nudged Pearlie. “ A card?”
He ran a broad, calloused hand though wavy hair the color of sandstone. His turned down mouth reinforced my first impression; handsome was not happy with the two blonds in his way, and he was impatient to get back to work.
“You’re one of the resident artists here, aren’t you?” I asked, while Pearlie took out a business card.
“What does it look like to you?” he said, pulling off the gloves.
I could see the resemblance between artist and his work. Both were young, muscular, and dangerous.
Pearlie’s hand with the card fluttered to her breast, a telltale sign she’d completely forgotten our mission.
I lifted the card from her nerveless fingers, glanced at it to be sure it was one of her P.I. cards and handed it to him.
“Okay. I get it. You’re private investigators. What do you want to know?” he asked, glancing at his watch.
Pearlie flicked him a coy glance from under her lashes, “Your name would be a good start.”
I mentally groaned.
Handsome rolled his eyes and switched his attention to me. “Jason Stark. Next question?”
“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
“Long before Bethany took over.”
His answer seemed defensive. My antenna went up. “You didn’t like her?”
“She’s—she was okay. I don’t know what’s going to happen to the place now that she’s gone. I don’t suppose her father told you his plans for it.”
“Did she raise the rent when she inherited it from her grandfather?” I asked.
“Lady, a few bucks more isn’t the issue. My work sells well and since places like this are almost impossible to find, I could work with the devil himself if i t meant keeping my workshop.”
“And you aren’t concerned that a killer might still be in the vicinity?” I asked.
His dark brows went up a notch. He pointed to a loaded shotgun leaning against the bench. “That’s my usual welcome for strangers. You’re just lucky I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yes, we noticed the No Trespassing signs,” I said, “But that was for Bethany’s privacy, right?”
“Those signs went up because I put ‘ em up. Her granddad used to feed the immigrants, then traffic changed, and now it’s cartel bastards, mules and armed guards so I keep a gun handy.”
“But you want to know where I was when she was killed, don’t you? I was right here, welding.” He shook the leonine head. “With my welding helmet and the torch on, I wouldn’t have heard a damn thing.”
He swiped at his nose and looked away, but not before I saw a glint of tears in his brown eyes.
“You liked her,” I said, pleased that he wasn’t entirely a heartless bastard.
“I said she was okay, didn’t I? Now, if you don’t mind, I have a commission to finish.”
I would have liked to ask more questions, but Pearlie looked about ready to start licking the sweat off his patrician forehead so I pushed her out of the barn.
Outside, Pearlie fanned her overheated cheeks. “Warm in there, wasn’t it?”
“It would be great if you could stay on track long enough for us to get a few questions answered.”
“I was doin’ fine until you butted in.”
It was my turn to do an eye-roll.
“Oh come on,” she huffed. “You have to admit, Jason Stark is a fine specimen of manhood . The untamed, wild sort, ain’t he?”
“Get out your notebook,” I said, pulling her away from the barn and the smell of the torch burning into metal.
She did, but her mind was still with handsome Jason Stark.
“Snap out of it, will you?” I said, stabbing a finger at the forgotten
Dropping his welder’s torch he cursed and yanked off his helmet. H e picked up the torch and snapped off the blue flame. “Jesus! Who the hell let you two in?”
“The barn doors were open,” Pearlie said, ignoring his overheated demeanor. “Wow. This is really beautiful.”
“Bethany’s dad sent us,” I said, and nudged Pearlie. “ A card?”
He ran a broad, calloused hand though wavy hair the color of sandstone. His turned down mouth reinforced my first impression; handsome was not happy with the two blonds in his way, and he was impatient to get back to work.
“You’re one of the resident artists here, aren’t you?” I asked, while Pearlie took out a business card.
“What does it look like to you?” he said, pulling off the gloves.
I could see the resemblance between artist and his work. Both were young, muscular, and dangerous.
Pearlie’s hand with the card fluttered to her breast, a telltale sign she’d completely forgotten our mission.
I lifted the card from her nerveless fingers, glanced at it to be sure it was one of her P.I. cards and handed it to him.
“Okay. I get it. You’re private investigators. What do you want to know?” he asked, glancing at his watch.
Pearlie flicked him a coy glance from under her lashes, “Your name would be a good start.”
I mentally groaned.
Handsome rolled his eyes and switched his attention to me. “Jason Stark. Next question?”
“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
“Long before Bethany took over.”
His answer seemed defensive. My antenna went up. “You didn’t like her?”
“She’s—she was okay. I don’t know what’s going to happen to the place now that she’s gone. I don’t suppose her father told you his plans for it.”
“Did she raise the rent when she inherited it from her grandfather?” I asked.
“Lady, a few bucks more isn’t the issue. My work sells well and since places like this are almost impossible to find, I could work with the devil himself if i t meant keeping my workshop.”
“And you aren’t concerned that a killer might still be in the vicinity?” I asked.
His dark brows went up a notch. He pointed to a loaded shotgun leaning against the bench. “That’s my usual welcome for strangers. You’re just lucky I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yes, we noticed the No Trespassing signs,” I said, “But that was for Bethany’s privacy, right?”
“Those signs went up because I put ‘ em up. Her granddad used to feed the immigrants, then traffic changed, and now it’s cartel bastards, mules and armed guards so I keep a gun handy.”
“But you want to know where I was when she was killed, don’t you? I was right here, welding.” He shook the leonine head. “With my welding helmet and the torch on, I wouldn’t have heard a damn thing.”
He swiped at his nose and looked away, but not before I saw a glint of tears in his brown eyes.
“You liked her,” I said, pleased that he wasn’t entirely a heartless bastard.
“I said she was okay, didn’t I? Now, if you don’t mind, I have a commission to finish.”
I would have liked to ask more questions, but Pearlie looked about ready to start licking the sweat off his patrician forehead so I pushed her out of the barn.
Outside, Pearlie fanned her overheated cheeks. “Warm in there, wasn’t it?”
“It would be great if you could stay on track long enough for us to get a few questions answered.”
“I was doin’ fine until you butted in.”
It was my turn to do an eye-roll.
“Oh come on,” she huffed. “You have to admit, Jason Stark is a fine specimen of manhood . The untamed, wild sort, ain’t he?”
“Get out your notebook,” I said, pulling her away from the barn and the smell of the torch burning into metal.
She did, but her mind was still with handsome Jason Stark.
“Snap out of it, will you?” I said, stabbing a finger at the forgotten
Similar Books
