her apartment, Ashley was a shaking mess of nerves. Rummaging through her purse, she fished out her phone and tapped in Dave Pettine’s number.
“He was in the parking garage. He wants to kill me,” she said when the deputy district attorney answered the phone.
“Calm down, Ashley. Are you in a safe place?”
“Yes—I’m at home, but Jeffery was in the parking garage at my workplace. He had to have been waiting for me. I knew he’d be after me. What am I going to do?” She rushed over to the window and looked down: The people and cars looked like miniatures in a staged street scene.
“Did you see Jeffrey Elion?”
“Yes … I mean, no … not exactly, but I know it was him. I sensed it.”
“It could’ve been someone else. Parking garages aren’t safe, especially when it’s late.”
“It was him.” She slumped down on the couch. “What should I do?”
“Drink a glass of wine. Mr. Elion would be a fucked-up idiot if he pulled something stupid like this. I’m sure he doesn’t want to go back to prison.”
“You don’t believe me,” she whispered.
“I’m not saying there wasn’t someone in the garage, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Jeffery Elion. You’re lucky you made it to your car in time. You should have security walk with you from now on.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to be all right?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Please don’t dwell on Mr. Elion’s release. He’s a thief and a liar, but he’s never exhibited any violence. For whatever it’s worth, I don’t think you have to worry about him coming after you.”
“I guess you’re right. Sorry I bothered you.”
“You didn’t,” Dave replied.
After hanging up, Ashley pushed up from the couch, kicked off her boots, and shuffled into the kitchen to pour herself a large glass of chardonnay. She guzzled it down and poured another before walking back into the living room.
I know what happened to me in the parking lot had something to do with Jeffery. If I hadn’t gotten to my car in time … Chills danced over her skin as the reality of what could have happened hit her.
She picked up the phone and clicked on Zach’s name.
“Ashley, what’s up?” he asked.
“I wanted to let you know that I’ll take the job in Pinewood Springs on the condition that I can leave as soon as possible.”
There was a slight pause, then Zach said, “This is good. I thought for sure you were going to say no. Why the rush to head up there?”
“I want to get my bearings and spend a few days in Aspen to talk to a prospective client.”
Zach chuckled. “Like I said—all business. I don’t see a problem with you moving up there as long as you have everything in order before you go. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Ashley leaned her head against the cushion and rubbed her eyes. “As far as I’m concerned, I can’t leave Denver fast enough,” she muttered.
Working with a cocky playboy would be a cinch compared to dodging a parolee with a grudge.
She brought the wine glass to her lips and took a long drink.
1
Pinewood Springs, Colorado
A boxy-shaped man, whose hair had been shaved down to a little more than a brown skullcap, ran his leering eyes over her while licking his thick bottom lip.
“Ten bucks and ID.” His gaze rested on her breasts.
Standing inside the vestibule of Blue’s Belly, Ashley pulled out her wallet from a black leather clutch and took out two fives and her driver’s license. Bass-heavy rock-beats filtered to the front, and she craned her neck trying to get a glimpse of the stage. Behind her, more people joined the line.
“Who’re you here to see?” the bouncer asked, his eyes still on her chest.
“Raging Demons, and I’m up here, buddy.”
The man scowled and yanked the bills and ID from her. Pressing a stamp into an ink pad, he said, “Gimme your hand.”
Ashley stuck out her inner wrist.
The bouncer’s gaze narrowed. “It’s gotta be where the bartenders can see it.”
“They’ll see it,” she answered, not moving an inch.
“We got rules here,” he growled while pressing the green ink onto her skin.
“I won’t tell anyone you bent them.” She laughed dryly then walked through the entrance.
Iron Butterfly played over the speakers as she entered the nightclub. There was a small dance floor in front of a decent-sized stage. Four men stood on it, hooking up cables to large amps and adjusting microphone stands. Several tables that were already full dotted the parameter of the dance