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After taking a long slug of coffee, she pulled open the top left drawer of her desk and reached inside without looking. It was where she always placed her recorder and when her fingers didn’t automatically close around it, she frowned. A quick search through the contents of the drawer confirmed her worst fears. The recorder wasn’t there.
She bit back an exclamation. The forthcoming art show was taking up all her time, and she’d worked late the previous night. It had been almost nine o’clock when she’d finally left the office. Scrunching her forehead, she made an effort to remember. She could recall dictating her list. Then what?
I’m sure I put the recorder in the drawer.
If that was the case, where was it now? Bree had locked the gallery doors last night and opened them again this morning. No one else could have gotten into her office. No one had any reason to. Even if they had, why would they remove her device and not take anything else?
The answer was simple. It hadn’t happened. Her memory was just playing tricks on her, fooling her into thinking that, because she always followed a certain routine, she had done it again last night. Clearly, she had put the recorder somewhere else. The question was...where?
Huffing out a breath, she drank the rest of her coffee while emptying her purse onto the desktop in the hope that she might have picked up the recorder with her cell phone. Even as she did, she remembered that she’d been talking on her cell as she left the gallery.
Reassuring my mom that there haven’t been any more threatening emails.
Briefly, she rested her chin on her hand and gazed at the screensaver on her laptop. It was a view across the valley from the beautiful farmhouse where she had grown up. Evening sunlight glinted on the snow-covered fields of the CC Farm, while Pine Peak dominated the scene. The towering mountain provided the skiing and natural springs that made the resort such a popular tourist destination.
Normally, the tranquil scene soothed her. However, today, it made her feel restless. It was a reminder of her Colton heritage, and that was what the menacing emails had been about. Even though the anonymous sender had called her hateful names because of the color of her skin, the underlying message had gone deeper. You Coltons are only good for using and taking advantage of those who are less fortunate.
Furthermore, the sender had said that if she had any sense, she would pack her bags and head back to her life of privilege on her parents’ farm. If she didn’t? The most recent emails had included some sickening images of what would happen to her if she ignored the warnings.
Small wonder she had lost concentration and mislaid her recorder. It was a minor lapse, unimportant and only slightly inconvenient. She could remember what she needed to do today. It was just...
What did I do with it?
Pushing her chair back from the desk, she went through to her assistant’s office. The two rooms were separated by a short corridor that included a private bathroom and a small kitchen. Inside Kasey Spencer’s office, the floor on three sides was piled high with programs for the forthcoming show.
“Have you seen my digital recorder?”
Kasey looked up from the pile of papers she was collating. “No, but I can leave this and help you look for it.”
Bree shook her head. “It’s okay. I probably took it up to the loft without thinking.” Her apartment was above the gallery. “I’ll check when I grab some lunch later.”
She turned toward the door that led to the main gallery, only to be halted by Kasey’s voice. “Since you’re here...”
“Yes?”
“Rylan Bennet asked if you could spare him a few minutes,” her assistant said. “He’s in the promotions office.”
“That man spends more time here than all the other artists’ managers put together.” Bree was aware that her smile was slightly self-conscious. “He sure is dedicated.”
“Dedicated?” Kasey raised an eyebrow. “That’s a new name for it.”
Bree was tempted to ask the other woman what she meant, but it was fairly obvious, particularly since Kasey gave her a teasing look before returning to her task. So much for Bree’s speculation about whether the attraction between her and Rylan was real or just a pleasant daydream. Kasey’s words implied that her assistant had noticed it, which meant it existed outside of Bree’s imagination. The thought sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine.
