Page 37 of Frost and Venom

“Sleep. That’s all.”

She took the plunge, indicating the guest room. She didn’t want his scent all over her sheets and pillows if things went sideways between them.

“Don’t look so scared, mon rêve, I’m just going to hold you so you feel safe. That nonsense with the senator is just that, but you’ll have nightmares if I’m not here to stop them.”

That could very well be true, so she didn’t argue with him. It was strange to slide under the covers and have a warm, hard body wrap itself around hers. One leg tangled with hers, his thigh over hers. His arm circled her waist, pulling her into him.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered, and settled his head close to hers.

At first, her heart beat too fast, and she was far too aware of every inch of his body that was tight against hers. He breathed evenly. Rhythmically. She found that soothing and began to relax. He didn’t attempt to speak again. In fact, she didn’t know if he had fallen asleep or not.

Misha had curled up at the end of the bed rather than go into the primary bedroom without her. She found the presence of her dog nearly as comforting as being held in Wilder’s arms. His body was warm. His heart and breathing, steady. Once again, he was right in that she felt safe. So safe she drifted off to sleep and didn’t have a single nightmare.

Chapter Nine

Alek Donovan, owner of the local Grill, wandered around Harlow’s studio studying the various prints she had displayed on the wall. Her process was to place prints where she could look at them in different lights. She could catch any flaws or find ways to improve the photograph before deciding whether she would send it to one of the galleries that sold her work.

“Thanks for letting me come,” Alek said. “I repainted the walls in the restaurant area, and they looked bare. Totally bare. I didn’t like the metalwork I had up before and didn’t want to go in that direction again. I had the bright idea of displaying some of the local artists’ work. Stella saved my business by putting the Grill on the map with her customers. I thought I could help out some of the locals by displaying their work, not that you need much help, Harlow.”

She laughed at his suddenly embarrassed expression. Clearly, he was worried he’d offended her. “Every artist can use help, Alek,” she reminded. “Especially when they’re first starting out. I don’t paint; I take photographs. People have amazing cameras on their phones now and don’t have any idea of the amount of work I’ve done to the photos I send to the various galleries willing to display my work.”

Alek stood in front of the studio display wall looking up at her latest project. “Frost and Venom. Cool title. I actually love this one, Harlow. I wouldn’t want to sell it, even if I got a commission.”

“It isn’t the final artwork, Alek. There are a couple of things I want to do to enhance the frost on the barn and ground without compromising the shadowy rattlesnakes. I want people to have to look for them.”

He stepped closer to the wall to examine the photograph. “I see them. In the shadows there. That’s amazing. The spiderwebs in that light are the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Alek added, staring up at the photograph. “They contrast so well with the barn, the way the barn is slowly falling to pieces. It looks like the spiders are trying to hold it up with silk. I don’t think I ever appreciated spiders more than I do just looking at this.”

“I purposely tried not to highlight the snakes in the rocks, which is where the title of the art came from. Eyes are supposed to be drawn to the spiderwebs. I need something to justify blatantly using the term venom.” She couldn’t help her frustration. She wasn’t certain how to overcome that flaw, or even if she wanted to. She knew it was a beautiful and unusual photograph and would sell well. She really wanted to keep the rattlesnakes a shadowy secret the viewers would have to discover. It would be nice to have another focal point for anyone viewing the photograph to believe she’d named the art piece Frost and Venom for that reason and not the partially hidden snakes. Not until they were discovered.

“Spiders can be venomous,” Alek volunteered helpfully.

“Those are orb spiderwebs on the barn, and funnel-web spiders made the webs on the ground. Neither species hurts us.”

“I read somewhere that funnel-web spiders are extremely dangerous,” Alek objected.

“Only in Australia,” she corrected. “Not here. We do have black widows, and there are some in the eaves of the barn. I did take some shots of their webs.” She flashed a smile. “Thanks for the great idea, Alek. I have so many more photos to look through. Black widow webs are shiny and sticky. They would stand out if I captured them on film, even if they didn’t have frost on them. At least that’s my hope. There were several hanging from the eaves.”

“Can I buy this particular photograph? I’ll get it framed immediately and hang it with the other paintings. This won’t be for sale. I don’t want to ever give it up.”

“You really like it that much?” She couldn’t help the glow she felt at his obviously honest opinion. She loved the photograph as well, although she wanted to get it right. If she had one angle that included a black widow spider’s web, she could justify the title without making the snakes more prominent.

“I absolutely do. I checked the gallery websites in New Orleans and the one in New York that sell your work to get a feel for the prices charged for one of your pieces…”

“Don’t, Alek. This isn’t the finished one that will go into the galleries. You’re my friend. I’ll pack it up for you right now.”

“I can’t just take it.”

“Of course you can. You can display the title, which I’ll add to the back along with my signature and the date. It will be one of a kind, unfinished, but who knows? If I have the shot—I hope I do—of spiderwebs in the eaves, maybe this one will go big and your artist proof will be worth tons of money.”

“I’m going to take it, but the next time you and your friends come in for dinner, it’s on me and no arguments.”

“It’s a deal. Thank you, Alek. I needed something good to happen today.”

“I was sorry to hear about Helen McKay. I know the two of you were good friends.” Alek turned completely around to face her, his expression compassionate. “She was kind to everyone. I didn’t know her that well, but that’s what I remember most about her.”

“She was kind,” Harlow agreed.

“Do you have any idea what happened? When I ask, I am just told that there is an ongoing investigation. You don’t think she was murdered, do you? It’s just weird to me that Lawyer died of strange circumstances the same way Old Lady Gentry did. And now Helen.”