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“There’s my girl. I knew you wouldn’t leave empty-handed on that trip.”
She’d wanted to get away to Vancouver more than she even wanted to deal with Sandra Kennedy’s impressive array of books. But now she needed answers. “Yeah, well, I’m going to stop into New York City then come home.”
“Good. I miss you, B.”
Bella gripped the top of the kiosk, waiting for it to verify her tickets. “I know. I miss you too, sweetie. So don’t worry, okay?”
“Whenever you’re traveling my worrywart comes out.”
“Yeah, it does.”
Nic laughed. “All right. Be safe.”
“You got it.” She tucked her phone back in her pocket. She didn’t like lying to her best friend, but Nic was a worrier. If she knew about the bodyguard action, she’d be on a plane out to meet Bella faster than her new ticket could be printed.
No, she needed answers. And she was only going to find them by going to see one Marcus Roth in Manhattan. An internet search had yielded a little information. Like where their headquarters were, what they offered in services—which was just as startling as learning she was inadvertently a client. They specialized in corporate and personal security, the kind that included CEO’s of major companies and supplemented government jobs protecting dignitaries.
New York City was one of the most powerful cities in the United States. Roth Defense didn’t exactly have a testimonial page. That wasn’t how that world worked. It was reputation and contacts.
That was the part that made the least sense of all. That wasn’t her world. Oh, she rubbed elbows with the rich and powerful because of the collections she dealt with, but her worth was only in what she could procure for a client.
Her status didn’t earn her a bodyguard standing off to the side in plain sight. And the absence of the Navy guy was also weird. As if Roth Defense finally figured out they were working the wrong job. That she really wasn’t as important as they’d thought. And yet she was still left with RBF—aka Sarah.
The woman didn’t speak to her, didn’t even acknowledge her. She simply watched over Bella from an arbitrary distance that only Sarah seemed to know. If they were near a ticket booth, it was twenty feet. If it was a restaurant, the woman was within three tables of her.
It made her wonder just how long she’d been following her before Bella had even had an inkling of being under watch.
Marcus Roth had told her the better part of six months.
The time was unfathomable.
What the hell had she done that would warrant a protective detail? She’d called to all the auction houses that had ever showed an interest in her in the last two years. Nada. They all said they did extensive background checks that included criminal investigations, but none that would include a company like Roth Defense.
She’d even gone through her acquisitions for the last eight months. Nothing rang any bells. Well, one book had been worth about three times as much as she’d thought, so at least the research had turned a small profit.
It made sense why she’d had quite a few tugs on the website to look at the book lately. She’d adjusted the appraisal on it which had been the catalyst for Nic’s phone call.
The difference had been sizable enough that she’d worry if Nic hadn’t at least texted her. But Between the Lines taking a ten thousand dollar hit on the profit side wouldn’t raise any flags. The nature of her business was betting on nostalgia as much as value. A bidding war could drive it up, or disinterest could kill a bid.
God, her head hurt. Trying to understand anything that happened in the last thirty-six hours was migraine inducing.
She changed the date and destination of her ticket and settled in to wait for her plane once more. Thank God, a flight from Seattle to New York was fairly commonplace. Her only problem was the time difference. She’d be arriving in the city toward the end of the business day.
If she called Roth again, she’d be turned away with the usual client privilege bullshit. Her only course of action was to show up and hope a face-to-face would get her a few answers. She used her time on the plane wisely. The direct flight meant she got a good chunk of time to sleep.
An hour before they were to land, she changed out of her travel jeans and ballet shoes to her dress pants and four inch heeled boots. If she was going to go in she was going to make sure she looked the part of a serious businesswoman. Not the roadkill she felt like.
She swept her hair up into a twist and clipped it tight, fixed her makeup, and glossed on a deep burgundy lipstick. She looked like she belonged in New York City. And for a long time she had, but she didn’t want to go back to that Isabella Grace.
She liked the one that lived in Winchester Falls and did the occasional travel for work. It was time to find that Bella again.
She opened the door to the first class cabin and smiled at the startled attendant. His appreciative gaze gave her the boost she needed to get through the last twenty minutes of the flight.
When she got to the JFK airport terminal, she slid through the sea of bodies. She caught RBF’s stony glare as she jumped on a glider and headed for the escalators. She felt bad that she intentionally tried to lose her, but she didn’t want her bodyguard to figure out where she was headed.
She charmed her way around a businessman waiting for a cab and shared the fare to the upper west side of Manhattan. He was a rather adorable new father that gushed about his little girl the entire ride to West 70th.
His chatter was exactly what she needed to calm herself down. By the time she stepped out of the cab in front of the wall of glass that made up Roth Defense, she was filled with determination. New York was already dimming into darkness and the lights of the city bounced off the onyx-like sheen of the windows.
