Page 56 of Moonlit Colorado

“Yeah. About halfway down her back. She was very beautiful. Unusually so.”

The chief hummed again. “Actually, I wonder if this connects to another mystery that came across my desk recently. We got a call a week ago from someone looking for a woman with red hair. The caller said she was his friend, that she’d gone missing. He claimed she’d been in Silver Ridge, though neither of them were locals. Woman was named Nina Jamison. Does that ring any bells?”

I glanced at Ashford and Grace. “No,” she said. “Not at all.”

“Well, the caller refused to give his name. He was calling from an unregistered number. Burner phone. When my officer asked more questions, the caller hung up. But then we checked around with local hotels.”

“Including the ski resort?” I asked.

“No, we didn’t get that far up the list. We found a Nina Jamison registered as a guest at a roadside motel. Turned out she never came back to her room a couple of weeks ago. Left some of her belongings behind. The motel owner had taken a photo of her ID when she checked in, since that’s his policy.”

“But the motel owner didn’t report her missing?” Grace asked incredulously.

“He said it wasn’t that unusual. She didn’t leave anything of value behind. But he sent the photo of her ID to us. Nina had red hair, and I’d say she’s…very attractive. Objectively speaking.”

Grace arched her eyebrow. “Objectively,” she repeated. “But she’s no Ayla Maxwell?”

The chief made a choking sound, while Grace and Ashford flashed smiles at one another. I wasn’t sure what that was about, but I was grateful for the brief levity, if only because it lightened Grace’s mood.

But there was something I had to know.

“When was this Nina Jamison last at her motel room?” I asked.

The chief recited the date.

“That’s the same night as the grand-opening masquerade,” I said.

“Grace, I’m emailing you the image of Nina Jamison’s ID. See if you recognize her.”

Grace took out her phone and checked her messages. She sucked in a breath. “It’s her. That’s Ms. Scarlet. The woman who gave me the red mask.”

So it was possible Grace was the last person who’d seen Jamison before she vanished. If that anonymous caller was to be believed.

“And you’repositivethat the intruder yesterday stole that same mask?” the chief asked.

Grace paused a moment, thinking. Then nodded. “I’m sure. Yes. But I have no idea what any of it means.”

None of us did. This story had started out strange, and it was only getting more bizarre.

And somehow, Grace was in the middle of it.

SIXTEEN

Dane

We talkedto Chief Landry for a few more minutes. After we finished up with the call, Grace went back to the living room. Ashford shut the door behind her.

Then he turned to me, arms crossed over his chest. “Look, I appreciate you looking out for Grace, if that’s all this is. But she’s my sister.”

“I’m aware.”

“So I’m obligated to ask. Can I trust you with her?”

Hell, I didn’t want to have this conversation. Because the answer was probably,No, you shouldn’t. I’m planning to take her back to New York with me, get her naked, and do whatever filthy things she lets me do to her.

That probably wouldn’t go over well.

“You’ve known me a long time,” I said.

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