Ten Times Guilty Read Free Page B

Mountains.
    The house itself was a piece of history. A patron from the Fine Arts Committee rescued it from a wrecking ball three years ago when she discovered the Victorian had been owned by one of Denver’s famous madams in the eighteen hundreds. It wasn’t known if the house had been used as a bordello like those located farther east near Larimer Street, but the place was a jewel, a tribute to Denver’s rousing gold-rush days. Tracy drew strength from working in an atmosphere of pride and accomplishment, something she needed for her own spirit when she felt overwhelmed.
    Rita entered the dining room and sat back down. “So how did the reading go?”
    “Just the usual doom and gloom they all scare you with,” Tracy replied. “Nonsense, really.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve heard stories...”
    “Well, I don’t want to hear them. I’m glad Carrie’s going on vacation tomorrow. So what do you want to talk to me about?”
    “You know what you need?” Rita said, ignoring Tracy’s question. “You need a man in your life.”
    “I have one.”
    “A baby isn’t what I had in mind. Poor thing, no wonder you’re frowning. Tell you what, the next good-looking tourist who comes in, you flirt a little. I’ll show you how.”
    “I’ve told you a thousand times,” Tracy said, pronouncing each word distinctly. “I-do-not-want-a-man. I don’t have time, especially now. Too many other things come first.”
    “What things?”
    “Making a living for one. School, for another.”
    “Oh, school, schmool. You don’t need school, you need a man. When will you learn it’s love that makes the world go around?”
    “I’ll just tell that to the grocer next time I need baby food.”
    “Jeez. A body would think some of the things I’ve been saying would rub off, but you just throw them off like a dog shaking water. What am I going to do with you?”
    “Try minding your own business for a change.”
    “I don’t know why I worry about you,” Rita went right on, “you never do anything I tell you. Good Lord, no one would guess you’ve been married, or have a baby, for goodness sake. You seem so...so virginal .” She made it sound like a disease no one wanted. “And,” her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “a little standoffish. You scare ‘em off before they ever get started. That’s gonna haveta change if you’re ever gonna get that boy a daddy.”
    “That’s enough,” Tracy said, rising from her chair. “If that’s all you wanted to talk about, I’m going home.” 
    “The new security guard started this afternoon.”
    “What security guard?” Tracy donned her windbreaker hanging on the rack by the back door.
    “Remember the vandalism last week? Well, Mr. Madden had a security outfit send someone over to keep an eye on things. He’s here, even has a gun and a nightstick. All kinds of gizmos on his belt. His name’s Karr and he wants to meet you.”
    “Well, I don’t want to meet him.”
    “Hmmm.” Rita studied the ceiling. “He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
    Tracy spun around. “You didn’t! I’m getting out of here.”
    “Wait, what’s your hurry? Don’t leave, give the guy a chance, you might like—”
    Just as Tracy’s hand closed on the doorknob, a male voice spoke behind her.
    “You must be Tracy.”
    Tracy froze. Why hadn’t she left when she had the chance? Now she’d have to be polite to someone she had no interest in meeting, all because Rita wanted to play matchmaker.
    Slowly, she turned around.
    At six feet he towered over her and his stocky build looked solid. But the curious thing was his eyes, which had a distinct Asian tilt. Dark in color, almost black, they leveled on her as something, almost hidden flashed briefly, leaving her mouth dry.
    “Karr, meet Tracy.” Rita beamed.
    Tracy wanted to slap her.
    Karr offered his hand. “Glad to meet you. I’m Karlton Wolfe. Call me Karr.”
    Now he looked perfectly normal. Must have been her imagination.