Chapter 3
Jensen
Light flurries of snow blew around my car as I navigated the winding highway through the mountains.
The drive had been pleasant enough. Good weather, even over the pass, and the landscape had a certain rugged charm.
Snowy slopes rose on either side of the road, with a few determined pine trees clinging to the rocks.
Views of a river came in and out of sight as I drove, the banks crusted with ice.
It wasn’t my first visit to the area. I’d never been to Tilikum, but my sister, Nora—half sister, if we were being precise—had gotten married at a winery not far from my assignment.
I remembered the wine being excellent. I’d have to make time to swing through and pick up a case or two before heading home.
The entrance to the town was heralded by a Welcome to Tilikum sign, and the fact that it was the Christmas season was impossible to miss. Large red bows adorned the corners of the sign, and a very large wooden squirrel wearing a Santa hat and holding a present in its forepaws stood behind it.
That was… unique.
Large lit candy canes flanked the main road, wreaths adorned nearly every door, and the storefronts were awash in lights and greenery.
I slowed as I drove by a park in the center of town.
A parked fire engine on the grass had its ladder extended so someone could hang lights at the top of a massive tree.
I didn’t mind the holidays, necessarily.
I had nothing against Christmas or all the festivities that went along with it.
I’d say I was more or less apathetic to it.
Having spent holiday seasons working in places where they’d never heard of Christmas, I’d hardly missed it.
So, while I wasn’t about to bah humbug Tilikum’s Christmas cheer, it did seem like a lot of trouble over nothing.
In any case, I wasn’t in town for a holiday. I had a job to do.
“Where are you, sneaky thief?” I muttered as I glanced around the quaint streets.
Following the directions Maple had given me, I turned onto what could best be described as your quintessential small-town Main Street.
A sign that read Angel Cakes Bakery caught my attention.
That probably deserved a visit. Farther up the road, a large statue of a well-endowed pinup girl stood in front of a barbershop.
She was clearly designed to look provocative, but for some reason, she had a white Santa Claus beard on her face.
That wasn’t something one saw every day.
Not quite sure what to make of the town, I kept driving. Maple’s directions led me into a residential neighborhood. I pulled up at the address, although it must have been a mistake. I was in front of a house, not a hotel.
But Maple never made mistakes.
She’d clear things up. I brought up her number and called.
“Is there a problem?” she answered.
“This address can’t be right.”
“Why?”
“I’m in a neighborhood, and this is someone’s house.”
“That’s right.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look for the garage. There’s a flat above. It was the only thing I could find on short notice.”
“Doesn’t this town have any hotels?”
“They do, actually. A beautiful one called the Grand Peak.”
“Then why am I not staying there?”
“Half of it is closed for renovations, and the other half is booked.”
“So I’m to stay in someone’s flat?”
“There’s an outside entrance, and you have the entire place to yourself. The owners live in the main house, but you’ll have all the privacy you need.”
“Hmm. Privacy, but no room service.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll survive. You’ve lived in more primitive conditions than someone’s spare flat.”
“True.” I let out a breath. “And I suppose I won’t be here long. I’ll make do.”
“There’s a good boy.”
“Good boy? You know I’m nothing of the sort. Too bad you can’t travel with me.”
“You know how Mr. Exton would feel about that, Jensen.”
“It’s such a pity you’re married.”
“Hardly a pity. Now go get settled. You have a thief to catch.”
“Indeed, I do. Good night, Maple.”
She ended the call. With an eight-hour time difference, I wondered if she was in bed, rolling over into Mr. Exton’s arms. Marriage. It was a bit like Christmas. I didn’t understand people’s fascination with it.
I left my car parked on the street and turned off the engine. Snow covered the yard, but unlike the shops in town, my host hadn’t put up any Christmas decorations. Not outside, at least.
I eyed the place with skepticism. The house itself looked a bit sad—worn and outdated. The garage had probably been added later. It looked newer and didn’t quite match.
Maple sent me the code to unlock the door, so I went up the staircase on the side of the garage that led to the second floor. Inside, I shut the door behind me and took stock of my lodgings.
It was surprisingly nice, considering the outside of the building hadn’t been anything to write home about. I’d been half expecting something old and musty, but the flat was bright and well decorated. Homey in a way a hotel couldn’t be.
Even without room service, I could make do.
I took a quick tour. Two bedrooms, one with an attached bath. A small kitchen. Laundry in a closet. The living room had a TV and a shelf with games and books. It was clean. Perfectly acceptable.
My bags were still in my car, so I went down to retrieve them. I opened the passenger door when an accusatory voice behind me caught my attention.
“Who are you?”
I turned to find a small child wearing a purple shirt and chunky snow boots. Her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, and she looked up at me with big brown eyes.
“Jensen Lakes. Who are you?”
“Annabel Thatcher.”
I’d never been quite sure what to make of children.
They puzzled me. Obviously, I’d been one, but I had few memories of that.
I’d only recently discovered I could develop affection for a small child after my sister had one of her own.
My niece, Raina, was the cutest, most lovable baby who ever existed.
But all other children seemed like loud, undersized humans who mostly got in the way.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Annabel.”
“You talk funny.”
“Do I?”
“That’s okay. I do, too, sometimes. I lost a tooth.” She opened her mouth wide and pointed at a gap.
“I see that. Do you expect a new one will grow in?”
She giggled. “Yeah, a grown-up tooth.”
“That’s good.”
“Are you a bad guy?”
“I suppose that depends on who you ask.”
“You kind of look like a bad guy.”
“Hmm.” I rubbed my chin. “Well, I don’t plan on doing anything bad while I’m here. Does that help?”
“Yeah. And I probably shouldn’t talk to you because you’re stranger danger. But Mommy said we have a guest in the apartment, so does that count?”
“You’re asking if I’m stranger danger?”
She nodded.
It was one of the oddest conversations I’d ever had. But the little girl was so straightforward. I liked her honesty.
“We just met, so I’m a stranger in that sense,” I said. “But I’m not a danger to you.”
“Good. Do you want to have a snowball fight?”
I opened my mouth to tell her perhaps another time when the side door to the house opened, and a young woman poked her head out.
“Annabel, don’t bother him.”
“I’m not bothering him, Mommy. I’m talking.”
“Sorry.” She stepped out onto the porch and hugged her arms around herself against the cold. “I promise she won’t bug you. She knows she’s not allowed over there. She just plays out here in the yard sometimes.”
The corner of my mouth lifted. “Don’t worry, love. She’s not a bother.”
The woman bit her lip and giggled softly. She was pretty—beautiful, even—with thick, dark hair and expressive brown eyes.
“Um… okay… good.” Looking me up and down, she bit her lip again. “Do you need anything?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Are you sure?” She fiddled with a lock of her hair. “Because if you do, I can bring it right up. It’s no problem.”
“Much appreciated.” I winked at her and glanced at Annabel. She was looking back and forth between me and her mother, her expression either disgusted or confused. I couldn’t quite tell. “Miss Annabel, it’s been lovely. I’m sure I’ll see you again before my stay is over.”
“Bye. I’ll see you later, and we can have a snowball fight then.”
Annabel’s mother licked her lips as she watched me get my bags from the car. I grinned at her again and gave her a nod. She opened her mouth as if she were about to say something else, but Annabel interrupted her.
“Mommy, why are you acting so weird?”
I pretended not to hear as her flustered mum tried to explain that she was acting normal, and Annabel needed to come inside.
I was well aware of the effect I had on women.
I’d meticulously cultivated my playboy persona for years.
He wasn’t the only part I knew how to play, but that personality was so deeply ingrained, sometimes even I thought he was real.
Seduction had been a device in my toolbox for so long, wielding it was pure instinct.
Of course, it was more than a cultivated habit.
I enjoyed giving women attention. Loved watching them light up, glowing with the pleasure of male admiration.
Whether or not it led anywhere was irrelevant.
It was the chase I craved, whether the prey was a beautiful woman or a thief who thought he could get away with stealing a priceless heirloom.
Life was a game, and one I enjoyed playing.