Frosted (Moreno & Hart Mysteries) Read online

  FROSTED

  ALLISON BRENNAN

  LAURA GRIFFIN

  Chapter One

  “I cannot believe that I’m doing this,” Krista mumbled for the hundredth time as her partner and best friend Scarlet Moreno drove up Bear Mountain in the brand new 4X4 Jeep they’d rented for the weekend.

  “I love this Jeep,” Scarlet said. “The job is totally worth it.”

  “You’re letting me sell my soul to the devil for a car you don’t even get to keep?”

  “You exaggerate.”

  “You haven’t met Adam. You don’t know what a sacrifice this is. I don’t know if I’m going to survive. You should have taken the case alone. Slow down!”

  Krista was damn near hyperventilating, and it wasn’t because of the winding road. But Scarlet slowed down. She’d switched into four-wheel drive fifteen minutes ago. The snow had been plowed leading to the lodge, but there was a crunchy layer of ice that made driving difficult. Krista liked driving, but she’d been happy to let Scarlet win the coin toss. She couldn’t concentrate on anything besides seeing her ex-husband again.

  “I’d never leave you alone the weekend before Christmas,” Scarlet said. “Your parents are in Florida for the winter. You and that damn parakeet were going to have Christmas turkey together.”

  “Ham for Christmas,” Krista muttered. “And Spencer is a macaw, not a parakeet. That’s why he doesn’t like you. You insult him.”

  “You’re in a shitty mood.”

  “You think?”

  “A three-day, all-expense paid trip to the most exclusive resort in SoCal and all you have to do is see your ex-husband. We’ve been private investigators for nearly three years and have never had a cool gig like this.”

  “Seeing him isn’t the problem. It’s talking to him. Being in the same room with him.”

  Scarlet didn’t get it, and Krista didn’t know how to explain. Krista had been married and divorced before Scarlet had been assigned as her training officer when they’d both been cops in the Los Angeles Police Department. All Scarlet knew was that her ex-husband was Adam Brock, who had surprisingly landed a role as the lead actor’s sidekick in the upcoming summer blockbuster. If Moon Drop did as well as everyone thought it would, then Adam would be able to write his ticket. He’d been a soap opera star as a teen-ager then had a couple small roles after Krista met him during college. Now he was on the verge of being huge, a breakout star because of this one big movie.

  He’d cheated on her, and Scarlet was happy to hate him for that simple reason. Krista loved her for it. But Scarlet had never met Adam. She didn’t understand that he had a look. He had a way about him that convinced even the smartest, most self-confident women to do stupid things. Like spontaneously getting married after a weekend of the most amazing sex Krista had ever had.

  “Do you regret it?” Scarlet asked.

  “Worst mistake of my life.”

  Scarlet bit her lip. Krista knew that look.

  “Oh my God, no. I do not regret divorcing that slimy, cheating scumbag.”

  “Of course you don’t.”

  Krista wanted to scream. “You’re impossible.”

  “I’m teasing. Lighten up.”

  Maybe she was teasing, but Krista didn’t like it. Her marriage to Adam had been a mistake from day one, just as taking this job had been a mistake. Why had she even answered the phone yesterday morning? She didn’t know why she’d let Scarlet talk her into this assignment.

  Okay, she did know. For the last three months Scarlet had been obsessed with investigating the Vartarian family. She was certain that the Vartarians had something to do with the ambush three years ago when they’d both been cops—Krista the rookie, Scarlet her trainer. Scarlet had been shot three times and nearly died. Afterward, they’d both left L.A.P.D. and started their P.I. business in neighboring Orange County, and for a while Krista thought Scarlet had put the ambush and subsequent fallout firmly in the past.

  Then three months ago, they got wrapped up in an L.A.P.D. corruption investigation while helping a friend. The case gave Scarlet a few pieces of the puzzle about what had happened when they were still with L.A.P.D. and now she was more than a little obsessed. Their P.I. business had been slow lately and Scarlet was spending all her free time—ample that it was—investigating the Vartarians. Even her brother John, who was working on an undercover investigation into police corruption, couldn’t get her to stand down. Scarlet was a dog with a bone. Worse. She was a starving dog with a meaty bone. Krista was worried.

  So when Adam had called Krista to say he was being stalked and needed her help, she’d agreed—though her natural inclination had been to tell him to go to hell.

  Scarlet drove the Jeep around a hairpin corner and slowed. “Wow,” she said. “This is better than the website.”

  The Gold Rush Lodge was nestled among towering Ponderosa pines covered with a blanket of fresh snow. The sprawling, multi-level resort looked like a fairy tale. It wasn’t as large or populated as the biggest hotel in the area, but it was by far the most beautiful. And they had a spa. Maybe a facial and pedicure would help Krista relax.

  She doubted it.

  “Gold Rush,” Scarlet said with a snicker. “I don’t think anyone discovered gold within two hundred miles of this spot.”

  A valet met them at the covered roundabout. “Welcome to Gold Rush,” he said, flashing an over-whitened smile. He was young and attractive and probably was paid to flirt with them. Krista knew his type. She wasn’t amused.

  Scarlet, on the other hand, was acting totally out of character by flirting back.

  What was going on with her? Come to think of it, she hadn’t been hanging with her boyfriend much these last few weeks. Krista hoped Scarlet hadn’t dumped Alex. He’d been very good for her.

  Krista got out of the Jeep before the valet could open her door. He gave her a warm smile, and Krista read his nametag: Chad.

  “Happy to be at your service,” he said in a voice loaded with innuendo.

  Krista ignored the comment as a bell hop—as young and attractive as Chad—rushed over to the car to collect their bags.

  “We’ve got them,” Krista told him.

  Scarlet rolled her eyes and winked—winked!—at the bell hop. “Let him do his job, Krista. We’re on an expense account.” She handed both Chad and the bell hop ten dollars. “Thanks, boys.”

  Krista followed Scarlet into a lobby with two-story ceilings and a wall of windows that looked out at a valley dotted with cross-country skiers. For a moment, Krista let the beautiful atmosphere wrap around her. If her life were in order and she had a serious boyfriend, this was a place she’d enjoy. But they weren’t here to relax.

  “What’s with you?” Krista asked Scarlet.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “Don’t turn the tables on me.” Something was definitely up with Scarlet, and Krista would find out. She’d rather focus on her best friend than think about her ex-husband.

  Scarlet ignored her and walked up to the registration desk. “Scarlet Moreno and Krista Hart. We have a reservation.”

  The registrar typed rapidly on the computer. “I’m sorry. I don’t see a reservation under either name. Would it be under a different name perhaps? A company?”

  “Moreno and Hart, Inc.,” Scarlet said.

  Click click click. “No, I’m sorry. Do you have a confirmation number? Perhaps there was a typo in the reservation system.”

  “No,” Scarlet snapped, “there is no typo.”

  Krista intervened, though she was secretly pleased that the old Scarlet
was beginning to make an appearance. “Sir—” She looked at his name tag. “Mr. Oliver.” She smiled. “Adam Brock made the reservation for us.”

  He pursed his lips. “Oh.”

  Krista’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He raised an eyebrow and looked down his nose. “He called down and said two ladies would be joining him in his suite.”

  “Oh no,” Krista said, “we’re not in his room. We have our own room. He promised me.” He had, hadn’t he? What exactly had he said? “I’ve got you covered, KayKay.” KayKay—what stupid kind of nickname was that? She hated it. Hated it.

  “Ladies?” Scarlet said. “Does that mean what I think that means?”

  Mr. Oliver didn’t comment, but stuck his chin out even farther.

  Krista said, “We’ll need another room.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible. We have a wedding here this weekend, and every room is occupied.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Krista said. “We’re leaving.” She turned away from the desk.

  Scarlet grabbed her arm. “No. He’s paying us three times our rate because we came all the way out here with one day’s notice, so we’re seeing this through.”

  The registrar cleared his throat. Krista felt her skin heat and knew she looked like a cooked lobster.

  Scarlet glared at the jerk behind the counter. “Find us another room now or—”

  The threat was interrupted by a deep, sexy voice that Krista remembered all too well. “Krista? KayKay!” and suddenly her feet were inches off the ground and Adam’s arms were wrapped around her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Adam. Put me down. Now.”

  Krista was acutely aware that Adam was not alone. A man and a woman stood several feet away watching, glaring at her as if she were a crazed fan.

  And he was the one who’d grabbed her.

  Adam squeezed her again before he set her on her feet.

  “You look great, KayKay.”

  “Krista. My name is Krista.”

  Adam smiled wider, revealing perfect teeth she knew were capped. Par for the course, what she said didn’t register. But he hadn’t changed. He was still the sexy, sweet, naive, two-timing ass she’d fallen for. His blond hair was a little blonder and streaky, cut shorter than normal—maybe for his movie. His blue eyes were framed by lashes that any woman would kill for. And his dimples ... What was it with dimples on a guy that made women melt? Not her. Not again.

  Adam glanced at Scarlet and gave her the same blinding grin. “You’re Scarlet, right?” He extended his hand and shook Scarlet’s up and down. “It’s great to meet you. Wow.” He looked at Krista again. “A private investigator? I’m thinking about auditioning for a role as a private investigator next month. A pilot. Prime time. If we can shoot around Moon Drop 2. You can help me get into character.”

  “No,” Krista said. She glanced around. Terrific. If they’d had a cover, they didn’t have one anymore. Any number of people could have heard Adam announce that they were private investigators. “Adam, they don’t have a room for us.”

  “Of course I do! I told you I got you covered. My suite is huge. We have the whole top floor.”

  That must have cost a fortune. Adam wasn’t that big yet. But his spendthrift personality had been one of the problems early (early) on in their marriage. Like, on their wedding night when he’d booked a penthouse suite at the Ritz-Carlton. And their honeymoon on Catalina Island. How much money had he thrown around those first few weeks? Krista was frugal. Adam was not. She didn’t want to think about how frivolous he was now that he’d actually landed a good part.

  “No,” Krista said, “we need our own space.”

  “You have it. You have a room and Scarlet has a room. Hey—Scarlet—like Scarlett O’Hara, right?”

  “No,” Scarlet said.

  He stared at her blankly. Scarlet glanced at Krista, eyes wide. Finally, her partner understood.

  Adam turned to Mr. Oliver. “My girls want their own room. Can you do that for me?”

  Mr. Oliver’s tone changed, but his expression didn’t. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Brock, but we’re completely booked this weekend. Had I known earlier, I might have been able to work something out, but with the Harrison-McKinley wedding and all their guests staying for the weekend, we simply do not have any other rooms available.”

  Adam frowned. “I’m sorry, Kay. But I swear you have your own room. I heard you loud and clear. Hands off.” Then his smile was back and he put his arm around her. He steered her to face his two-person entourage. “Dave, Trina, this is Krista. I told you about her.” Krista shrugged out of his arm, and Adam put his other arm around Scarlet. “And her partner, Scarlet. Like Scarlett O’Hara, you know?”

  Krista pulled Scarlet away before she kneed Adam in the balls. “Okay, Adam, take us upstairs. We need to talk. Alone.” She was never, never, never listening to Scarlet again.

  “Sure!” he said happily. He motioned to Dave and Trina. “Let’s go.”

  “I said alone,” she repeated.

  “But they’re with me,” he said. “Dave is my manager and Trina is my acting coach.”

  Manager. Acting coach. Oh, God, Adam, what have you gotten yourself into?

  “Adam,” she said in her sweetest voice, “come here.” She crooked her finger and walked across the lobby. Adam followed like a puppy. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Scarlet side-step to prevent Dave and Trina from following.

  “You look great, Kay. Just great.” He reached out and touched her chin.

  She batted his hand away. “Adam, listen to me. Scarlet and I are here because you said you had a stalker and needed help.” When he’d called, he’d actually sounded scared. Maybe that—more than Scarlet reminding her that he was paying well above their usual rate—had convinced her to take the case. “We need more information.”

  “What do you want to know? I told you everything on the phone.”

  “You told me nothing. You said that someone was stalking you. That you were worried.” That also had bothered Krista. Adam never worried about anything. He was always the hang-loose, don’t-worry-be-happy guy.

  “Maybe I overreacted.”

  She was not hearing this.

  “Why?”

  “Well, when I told Dave and Trina about it, they said a lot of big actors have over-zealous fans and not to worry. That it’s actually a good thing.”

  “There’s a difference between a stalker and an over-zealous fan. Tell me exactly why you called me.”

  “Because you’re the smartest person I know.”

  “That’s not what I meant. What happened that prompted you to call me yesterday?”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Yes. That.”

  “A car was following me.”

  “What kind of car?”

  “A black car.”

  She was going to shoot herself. Or Adam. Why had she left her gun in her suitcase? She called upon every ounce of patience at her disposal. “Do you know what kind of black car?”

  He shrugged. “A car-car. Just a normal car. Not a Porsche or anything.”

  Great. A black car that wasn’t a Porsche.

  “Why do you think it was following you?”

  “I left a new club Wednesday; it had just opened up. In Santa Monica—right on the beach. You should meet me there some time, it would be fun. Total beach theme, sick music, fabulous.”

  “Adam,” Krista warned, trying to get him to focus.

  “Oh, yeah, well, it was late, but I was wired, you know? And this car was right on my tail. The whole time.”

  “The whole time ... which was?”

  “From when I left the club until I went to a party off Mulholland. Chase Peterson’s house. Totally cool I was at Chase Peterson’s house, you know? We’re buds.”

  Chase Peterson was the star of the movie Adam had landed.

  “And then this black car was there when I left, but I didn’t really
notice it at first but…” He bit his lip as if thinking about whether he needed to lie.

  It was the same look he’d had when she’d caught him having an affair weeks after they’d gotten married. Affair. It wasn’t an affair. It had been Adam hooking up with a girl because she wanted to have sex and Adam couldn’t say no.

  “If you lie to me, even one small, tiny little lie, I will leave and never come back even if you find a boiled rabbit in your kitchen.”

  He almost smiled. “Hey! That’s a reference to Fatal Attraction, isn’t it? That’s good, Kay.”

  She tried to count to ten before she hit him. She got to two.

  “The car, Adam!”

  “Right, right, right. I noticed it, really, but I was with someone, so I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  Of course he was with someone. He had a new girl every week. Krista did not want to hear this.

  “But still you noticed the car.” She spoke slowly and carefully before she interjected a slew of swear words that would have impressed Scarlet.

  “Yeah, of course I noticed it when it almost ran me off the road. But I figured whoever was driving was wasted or something. They should get driven, you know? That’s why I hardly drink, it’s just stupid. Dude, you don’t need to get wasted to have fun.”

  For all of Adam’s faults, he wasn’t a heavy drinker. He didn’t use drugs. He was addicted to other things. Like sex. With different women. Lots of sex with lots of women.

  “But when I got home and saw the note, that’s why I decided I needed to call the police.”

  Her instincts hummed. “Note? You didn’t mention a note.”

  “It’s why I called you.” And he looked at her as if she were being dense.

  “What did the note say?”

  “I know where you live. Well, duh, because the note was slipped into the mail slot of my apartment. But it was in block letters and no return address, and remember when I played the stalker on Guiding Hands, the soap opera? My character did the exact same thing, so it kinda creeped me out. So I called the police but they couldn’t help me even though I’m, you know, like a celebrity.”

  “So you called me.”

  “Exactly. I called you the second after I found the bottle of champagne on my kitchen counter yesterday morning. It had another note. It said Congratulations! It wasn’t there when I went to bed. Gretchen—no, Bridget. I think? Well, whoever played Moon Girl Number Two in Moon Drop popped it open to make mimosas. I had an interview, so I didn’t drink anything, and Bridget—no, Gracie? She got sick and threw up and I started to wonder how the champagne got into my kitchen since I didn’t buy it and Moon Girl didn’t have it when she came in with me.”