replied with a soft smile. “You need to have your nails done.”
If ever there was a doubt he was husband material, that statement erased them all.
“Okay ready? Let’s get started,” the technician said with a smile.
Gabriela nodded. “Umm…aren’t you upset about what just happened?”
The technician shrugged. “She’s getting what she deserves. If she killed her husband, which I wouldn’t be surprised if she did, then hopefully they’ll make her pay.”
Another technician huffed. “People like her get away with murder,” her eyes shifted to Jeremy. “No offense meant.”
“I got it all on video,” the old woman from the airport said.
Jeremy went to the woman and held out his hand. “Let me see it.”
“You can’t delete it,” the woman said slowly holding out the phone. “I don’t want to have to sue you.”
“I won’t,” Jeremy said. His studied the video.”
Jeremy shook his head and went back to the old woman. After a few moments, he handed her the cell phone. “What do you plan to do with the video?”
“Show it to my book club friends,” the old lady replied.
As they walked out, Jeremy held her against his side. “You okay?”
Gabriela nodded. “Surprisingly, the manicure did calm me down.”
“You have a penchant for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “Let’s go get your statement down, so you can get some rest. Think you can stay out of trouble if I leave you alone?”
“Of course,” Gabriela said. “Do you think she’ll stay in jail?”
“Probably,” he replied.
“What about the video? The lady might put it up on social media?”
“It’s so shaky, I could barely make anything out,” Jeremy said. “Besides, Mrs. Houser won’t do anything other than share it with her three friends at the tea house.”
“You know her then?”
“Yep, and try to avoid her. She’s a mess, always up to something.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Reminds me of someone else I know.”
“Hmm,” Gabriela replied, pretending to find the garbage cans across the street interesting.
Chapter Eleven
Gabriela sat back from her desk in her San Diego apartment and stared out the window. The view was so very different from Montana. Although city life had always energized her, since returning from Montana, it felt sterile and so impersonal. Goodness, was she becoming a country girl?
Earlier that day at a coffee shop with Mila, she’d gone on and on about the ranch and every detail of her last visit. Although she hated that her best friend had not been there for the engagement, Mila would be her maid of honor whenever they got married.
It was too soon to set a date. First the decision of where they’d live, get moved and then start planning the wedding. Whether Jeremy came to San Diego or she moved to Montana was definitely the hardest decision they faced.
Not just her family, but also all her friends were in San Diego. Okay, so her one friend, if she were to be honest. She’d never considered living anywhere else. She researched Missoula to find out the population of minorities in the area was around two hundred or so. In a town of about eight hundred thousand, that was a very small amount. However, she had to admit there were a few ethnic restaurants and she’d never felt out of place when out and about with Jeremy.
Giving up on writing for the day, she poured a glass of Merlot and went out to the small balcony to peer down to the street below. How would Jeremy adjust to city life?
Besides the noise and faster lifestyle, there was the element of danger when it came to his job. Crime was much higher in San Diego than it could possibly ever be in Missoula.
Her doorbell rang and she went to the monitor. Her stomach pitched at seeing her ex-boyfriends face. He smiled.
“Hi there, had a heck of a time finding you. Can we talk?”
Thankfully he could not see her. She hit a button ending the communication. How had he found her?
The bell rang again, and she was grateful for the security of her building. People were not able to get to the elevators until allowed in. She raced to her cell phone to call the doorman’s area.
“Yes ma’am?”
“Don’t allow the man in the blue polo shirt in. I have a restraining order against him.”
She heard the guard speak to someone and there was a series of short comments back and forth.
“Miss Diaz, he just went into the elevator. Must have slipped in with a resident.