What Are You Afraid Of? (The Agency #2)(2)

She grimaced as she glanced through the frosty window of the front door. Her first instinct was to ignore the unwelcome reminder of the outside world.

She’d rented the isolated cabin in the Rocky Mountains precisely to forget the demands of her high-profile career. Or at least, that’s what she’d told her literary agent. And in part, it was true. She’d spent the past twelve months flying from city to city to sign copies of her blockbuster book, The Heart of a Predator. Her hectic schedule had also included TV and radio interviews as well as speaking engagements. She’d even spent a month in California, teaching a creative writing class.

Soon it would all start again when the paperback version of the book was released.

She deserved a break.

But the deeper need to retreat to this cabin in the dead of winter was to avoid the yearly madness that was a mandatory part of the Christmas season. She wasn’t a grinch. Okay, maybe she was a little bit of a grinch. But it wasn’t her fault. She was a woman without a family. And, if she was honest, without any close friends.

Usually it didn’t bother her to be alone. In fact, she preferred to concentrate on her career without being encumbered by people who would be a constant distraction.

At this time of year, however, she couldn’t help but feel the lack of intimate companionships. Maybe it was the sappy commercials. Or the sight of giggling children who darted through the stores. Or the distant memories of when she hadn’t been alone.

Whatever the reason, she always felt the urge to retreat from the world during this time of year. And despite the fact she’d just celebrated her twenty-sixth birthday, she had the necessary funds to grant her wish.

Sipping her morning cup of hot chocolate, she watched as the snow lazily drifted from the clouds, coating the porch in a pristine layer of white.

In a few more minutes the envelope would be hidden.

Problem solved.

She took another sip. And then another. The snow continued to float in the air. Silent. Hypnotic.

A swirling cloud of peace.

She tried to force herself to turn away. Her plans for the day included a long, hot bath. A leisurely lunch. Some prime-time romance in the form of a paperback novel. And later, a bottle of wine in front of the fire.

Nowhere in her schedule was a mysterious envelope.

Unfortunately, Carmen had one deeply imbedded character flaw.

Curiosity.

It was the reason she’d snooped on her eighth-grade teacher after catching sight of the woman disappearing into a storage shed with the principal. That little adventure had gotten her kicked out of school. Probably because she’d posted the pictures she’d taken on the classroom bulletin board.

Three years later that same curiosity had urged her to sneak into her grandparents’ attic to try to peek inside the small safe that had once belonged to her parents. She hadn’t managed to open it, but she’d been caught in the act. Her grandfather had grounded her for a month and her grandmother had cried. The tears had hurt more than being forced to miss the spring formal.

On the brighter side, her curiosity had inspired her to become a journalist. And later to interview five of the most prolific serial killers to ever terrorize North America. The book she’d written after the nerve-wrenching meetings had become a number-one best seller and launched her into the world of fleeting fame.

Like disco balls and Crocs.

With a grimace she set her half-empty mug on a nearby table. She wasn’t going to be able to relax until she knew what was in the envelope.

She might as well get it over with.

Wrapping the belt of her heavy robe tighter, she reluctantly pulled open the door. An instant blast of frigid air slammed into her with shocking force. Crap. The cabin had looked so picturesque in the brochure. The pine trees. The snow. The majestic mountains.

She hadn’t really considered just how freaking cold it would be.

Now she scurried forward, her fuzzy slippers sliding over the icy surface. She bent down, snatching the envelope off the edge of the porch. Next year she was going to a sandy beach with lots of sun and fun.

Straightening, she paused to glance around, ensuring there was no one lurking in the small clearing. Then, with a small shiver, she darted back through the door and closed it behind her.

She brushed off the few flakes that clung to her robe before she grabbed her mug of hot chocolate and returned to the kitchen. Since she’d arrived ten days ago, the cozy room had become her favorite spot in the cabin. The wood-planked floors. The open-beamed ceiling. The worn table that was set near a window that overlooked the frozen back garden. There was even an open fireplace where she’d toasted marshmallows last night.

Now she moved to pour out the old cocoa in the sink and rinsed out her mug. She wasn’t an obsessive neat freak, but she preferred to keep her surroundings organized. A psychiatrist would no doubt tell her it had something to do with her need to control some small aspect of her life. She preferred to think that she was just tidy.

Taking a seat at the table, she wavered one last time. She should toss the envelope into the fire she’d stoked to life while she was brewing her morning cup of cocoa. Snap, crackle, pop, and all her troubles would be gone. Instead, she gave a rueful shake of her head and turned it over to stare at the front.

Her name was neatly typed, along with the address of the cabin. Then her gaze shifted to the return address, not surprised to find the name of her PR firm. There were fewer than ten people who knew where she was staying.