“Curious Turtle,” I said into my cell phone, my voice tight as I worried about whether or not it would be another animatronic voice piped through some computer. They'd been calling both the gallery and my cell phone for so long that I'd begun to dread any unknown number. And to think, before all this started I'd thought telemarketers were bad! “How can I help you?”

“Jessica? It's Richard.”

I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. Not because it was familiar—the animatronic crazy man was more familiar by now—but because something about him was reassuring. Then my breath caught in my throat again as I realized he wouldn't be calling me unless there was a problem.

“Everything okay?” I asked uneasily.

“No, no, everything's fine. Just giving you an update, and I figured it would look strange if I walked back in. Also, I'm calling to see if you've reconsidered the offer on the safe house.”

“What's the update?”

“Our people are working on getting information on Wyatt Axelrod, and we should have something tomorrow morning. Also, our IT person will be by early tomorrow to look at your fax machine and see what she can dig up. She's pretty sure she can figure out where it came from, so that gives us a good lead.”

I nodded, the knot in my stomach unraveling a little.

“Now, about the safe house. The offer is still open. I'd be much more confident in being able to keep you safe there.”

“I have dogs, Richard. I can't just abandon them for the night.”

“No friends who can look in on them?”

“And not have it look strange when I didn't tell them about my leaving town? Wouldn't that just tip someone off?”

“Pick them up and head to the house afterwards?”

“I just want to stay in my own home, tonight, okay? It's just…it's just where I feel safest, alright? Is that too much to ask?”

He sighed on the other line. “No, I can understand that. Well, wherever you choose to stay, I'll be there.”

Something about the way he said that last part, that he'd be there, actually filled me with a little confidence, like a balm to soothe my aggravated fight or flight instinct. What person wouldn't feel that way, though, with a tough guy like Richard Murdoch reassuring them over the phone?

“Heading out soon?” he asked.

“Just about to grab my purse,” I replied as I went around to my desk and pulled my handbag from the drawer. “Are you going to follow me?”

“I’ll be a short distance behind. You'll see me, I'm sure, but no one else should. And, remember, I need to be the first one in the house. Wait for me when you get there. If anything seems off, you leave. Okay?”

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. “Got it. See you soon, then.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied in a clipped voice just before we both hung up. I tucked my phone away in my purse and headed out through the gallery, giving it the once over.

I didn't know what to think about all this. First the threats, now Blake's nephew coming on the scene? Were the two linked? Richard seemed to think so, but he was an outsider looking in. I shook my head, sighing. Maybe being an outsider gave Richard more perspective than I had? I didn't know. All I knew was, I was scared. Scared and worried. About my future, about my safety.

I locked up and headed out to my car, glancing around warily. I caught sight of my security blanket in his old, beat-up Jeep Wrangler down the block. I resisted the urge to wave and just climbed into my old red Jetta, started her up, and took off for home.

I lived on the south side of town, in a little two bedroom cabin I rented. It wasn't anything extravagant, but the view out of the large picture windows was incredible. It was worth the couple hundred extra dollars a month to get such a spectacular view every morning, and it was only a short drive during the summer. Of course during the winter months the trek was longer and moderately dangerous, but that was pretty much how it was for most people from October to April.

Richard's old Jeep was just barely visible in my rear view mirror. In fact, if I hadn’t known I was being tailed, I wouldn't have even thought twice about it. What did that say about me, though? Just lackadaisically going through life without a care in the world?

Knowing he was close by like this, though, did make me feel better, jokes about security blankets aside. There was just something about him that I was drawn to. I'd never been much for his type of guy, always gravitating toward more of the artist types who preferred to curl up with a good book or go to an art museum, rather than hit the gym. But there was something about those strong arms of his, and the way his chest had felt as he held me against it.

“Ugh, what am I doing?” I muttered to myself as I reached the halfway marker to my house. “He's my security guy! I’m not Whitney Houston and this isn’t some chick flick. He’s only watching out for me because I’m paying him to, nothing more. He doesn’t actually like me! Ugh, so stupid.”

A few minutes later, I pulled into my driveway and waited. I could hear my dogs Eli and Wallach going crazy inside as they heard my car pull up. I hated having to wait out here with them just inside, knowing they wanted to be let out, but Richard had told me to wait for him.

Conifer trees dotted the property the cabin was built on, giving it a picture perfect look. The place I rented was small with only two bedrooms, but I didn’t mind. It was cozy and comfortable. That was how it felt during the winter, at least, when the snow was really blowing in. It was more than enough space for me and my two boys. Plus, it backed up to a little stretch of creek and some flatter, rocky grasslands where I could take them to go run each morning. I mean, sure, I wanted a family some day, but who, pray tell, was I supposed to make one with?

I sat there for a good minute waiting for Richard to arrive, but when Eli started his miserable howling, I caved. He just sounded so lonesome and desperate in there, even with his brother Wallach right next to him. And then, of course, they both began crying together, and that was too much for me to handle.

I was weak.

I climbed out of my car, purse in hand, and headed up the driveway. I silently hoped there weren’t any serial killers or any other psychos waiting around the corner for me.

Much to the delight of my boys, I marched up the little walkway to the front door, keys jingling in my hand. Eli bellowed at me with deep barks, while Wallach yelped next to him, both pacing back and forth in front of the door.

“Hold your horses, guys!” I groaned as they got louder.

I quickly unlocked the door and marched into the house. Eli, a huge Hound Mutt with traces of Bloodhound and God only knows what else, bellowed again, nearly rattling the windows with his deep bass. Beside him, Wallach, my Corgi mix, ran in circles, yapping and jumping in excitement.

“Come on, guys!” I shouted excitedly, ushering them to the back door that led to the small deck, which overlooked the trees down a small hilly field behind the cabin. “Come on, let's go out!”

They followed me out, with Eli almost topping me over, jumping up and down and pouncing, as I led them through the backdoor. At night, I'd never have let them run around like this. There was way too much wildlife in the area for them to be safe—bobcats, lynx, coyotes, bears, and more. During the day, though, I wasn't too worried about them running into something like that, so I generally let them out to clear some of their pent up energy.

As I shut the back door on them, I heard a knock on the front door. A loud, insistent one. “Jessica!” It was Richard.

Shit. Busted. I winced as I practically ran across my small living room to let him in. “Coming! I'm alive, don't worry!”

I flipped back the deadbolt and threw the door open.

There he was, standing over me and glowering. “Thought I told you to wait in the car?”

I sighed as I stood aside, gesturing for him to come in. “Sorry, I know I wasn't supposed to, but my dogs got all excited when they heard me pull up, so I had to let them out! I figured, you know, if there was anyone inside, they wouldn't have been howling like they normally do.”

He just sighed as he stopped in the living room, looking around. “Wow,” he said, the anger seeming to fade from his voice in some sort of weird moment of surprise. “Just. Wow.”

“Wow what?”

“You’ve got a shit ton of turtles, don't you?”

I blinked and looked around my little cabin, at the little turtle figurines on the side table, the sea turtle paintings on the living room walls, the turtle coffee cups hanging by the coffee pot, the small statue of a mock turtle from Alice in Wonderland in the corner, the turtle blanket tossed over the back of a couch—the list of turtle memorabilia went on. I never noticed these additions because they happened incrementally over time, despite passing through these rooms for years.

It hadn't been intentional or anything. I mean, my three loves have always been art, the mountains, and the oceans. I’d majored in Art in school and minored in Oceanography, and lived in the mountains, if that explained anything. I'd picked up some art pieces along the way, ones that really spoke to me, that reminded me of my love for oceans since I was so far away from them and only had the mountains. And, to me, nothing said the ocean like sea turtles. It didn’t occur to me how it’d appear to the regular person.

“Guess I do,” I said, suddenly a little embarrassed by the sheer volume of turtles. “But it's not all my fault.”

He chuckled. “No?”

“Well, okay, it is. But not for the reasons you think. After I started up the art gallery–”

“The Curious Turtle.”

“–The Curious Turtle, right, everyone just started giving me turtle gifts, okay? And, besides, these aren't all turtles. A lot of them are tortoises!”

“So you don't discriminate?”

I laughed. “No, it's not me. It's people. They see things with shells and they think turtle, and then they think Jessica.”

He nodded, smiling. “Got it. I’ll keep that in mind come Christmas. In the meantime, I should really check out the place. Have you been in the other rooms yet?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head, “just got home a couple minutes before you did. Only had a chance to let the boys out. Feel free.” At the same time I said this, my mind was going one hundred miles an hour trying to remember if I left anything more embarrassing lying around, especially in my bedroom.

“Thanks,” he said, his hand resting on the gun at his side,.

I didn't bat an eye at his gun. It was his job, after all. Here in the High Rockies, you can find some really liberal people, and you can find some really conservative people. Generally, though, you don't find a lot of gun control people. When you have bears outside your back doors, or giant cats that could run off with your dogs at night, you tend to learn how to use a rifle or a shotgun. Even I knew how to shoot and kept my grandpa's old shotgun in the house.

Of course, I didn't keep it loaded or anything. I was cautious, but not paranoid.

He went through my small house, as I stayed behind in the living room. I chewed my nail nervously when he peered into my messy closet and saw the makeup lying haphazardly all over my bathroom sink.

“House is clear,” he said as he rejoined me. “One thing, though, something you may consider if you haven't already.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Some organizational supplies?” he replied, deadpan. “I hear they have people who'll come in and do it for you.”

I rolled my eyes at his grin. I was going to respond, but I heard my boys scratching at the back door, and instead turned to go let them in. Eli and Wallach came tumbling into the house in a ball of slobbery, dusty fur, both falling over each other to get past me and to Richard.

Eli bayed first, louder than normal, but Richard immediately dropped to his knees, bringing himself down to the dogs' levels. Wallach hung back for a moment, his little tail twitching in confusion, like he wasn't sure how to take this stranger, who was now looking him in the eye.

“Eli's a little timid,” I said, “but he won't bite or anything.”

“Oh, no,” Richard said, hand outstretched, “of course he won't. Will you, boy?”

Eli edged forward more quickly than I'd ever seen him move, adjusting well. He sniffed at Richard's offered hand and his tail began to wag even faster.

My security blanket grinned widely and held out his other hand. “Eli, huh? You like me, don't you?”

The big Hound wagged his tail harder, trotted closer, and licked his hand.

“Yeah, you do,” he said as Wallach came running up to him, jumping on his knee in an effort to not be left out of the attention. He scratched and pet both of them, more at ease with the dogs than any of the previous men or friends I'd ever brought home. For Pete's sake, both of them were still timid even with Sheila and Karen when either of them stopped by. And they'd known my boys for a couple years at least.

“What's this one's name?” Richard asked, nodding to my little Corgi.

“Wallach.”

“Eli and Wallach?” he replied, laughing. “Really?”

I smiled and brushed my hair behind my ear. “Don't tell me you actually know who Eli Wallach is.”

“My dad raised me on old Westerns before he passed away. How couldn't I?”

I laughed, clapping my hands. “You and Grandpa are probably the only two people I know who'd appreciate it.”

He grinned up at me, rising to his feet and towering back over me again.

I gestured back to the fridge. “You want a beer or something? I know it's still early.”

“Can't,” he said regretfully. “On the clock. Tea or coffee, if you got it.”

“Water while I put some coffee on? After I feed my boys, of course.”

“Sure, that sounds fine.”

I retreated into the kitchen, a stupid little smirk on my lips as I went about the task of feeding my dogs. They each got half a can of wet food mixed with some dry food, and a little pumpkin puree to go with it to keep their stomachs settled and bowel systems regular.

“How long have you lived in Colorado?” I called back into the living room.

“A couple years. Moved out here when Peter and I met.”

When they met? Were they—? Shit, I hadn't gotten that vibe from them at all! I stopped in my tracks. “When you two met, huh?”

He cleared his throat in the other room. “Yeah, he had the idea for the security agency, so we came up here to open it together.”

I bit my lip and sighed. Oh well, I thought. Win some, lose some. And some are just gay.

Dammit. It wasn’t like I had a shot anyway.