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“Chamomile mint tea to settle your stomach. If you don’t like tea, I’ll find a soft drink for you.”
“The tea is perfect. Thank you, Trace.”
While they ate, he asked questions about Ruth and learned her sister loved Mexican food but couldn’t indulge much because of her job. Trace frowned. “Doesn’t sound like a good job. She’s starving herself.”
“She cheats a little between contracts and sticks to a stringent workout routine to keep her weight down. It’s not a job I’d be interested in doing, but the camera loves her. From what she tells me, the photographer doesn’t have to alter her photos.”
“Huh. Any illnesses or allergies we should know about?”
Bridget finished chewing her last bite of sandwich. “No.”
“What about phobias?”
“She’s not a fan of spiders or heights.”
“Wait. Wasn’t she photographed in the Statue of Liberty’s torch for an ad?”
“Photoshopped. She was too afraid to work up there.”
Trace made a mental note to tell Nico about Ruth’s phobias in case the rescue involved heights. Hopefully, spiders would be nowhere in evidence. He wasn’t a fan of eight-legged creatures, either.
A knock sounded on the door as they finished their meal and Nico walked in. His expression had Trace straightening. “What is it?”
“We might have a lead on Hugo’s location.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bridget clenched the blanket in her fists. “Where is Hugo?” Was Ruth’s nightmare almost over? “Wait. You said you might have a lead. Does that mean this isn’t a confirmed sighting?”
“That’s right.”
“Where?”
“Your hometown.”
Her jaw dropped. Was it possible that she’d been wrong all along about her sister, that she’d never left Freeport? Maybe Ruth had borrowed money, intending to pay her back when she was paid.
No, that still didn’t make sense. Ruth had been a smart money manager from the first contract, saving a portion of every pay check and making smart investments over the years. According to her sister, she was setting money aside to take care of them both when they retired. Of course, Ruth’s retirement date from modeling was a lot earlier than Bridget’s from the Wilson County school system. Modeling was a young woman’s game. According to Ruth, her use-by date was fast approaching.
“What do we know?” Trace asked. He wrapped his hand around Bridget’s in silent support.
“A man matching Hugo’s description was seen around the Monihan house earlier today. The police happened to be driving by and stopped to question him. The man took off and eluded them. Neighbors report that he’s been around the neighborhood a number of times in the past three days.”
Trace turned to Bridget. “Do you have cameras with your security system?”
She stared. “We live in Freeport, one of the safest towns in Middle Tennessee. Ruth and I don’t have a security system. No cameras, either.”
He scowled. “That’s changing immediately.”
“Why? We’ve been fine.”
“It’s only a matter of time until the media sharks connect you to Roxanne. As soon as the news gets out, fans will swarm your house and bombard you every time you open the front door. Not only that, you can expect people to break in and steal Ruth’s belongings, either to hoard or sell for a hefty profit.”
“We haven’t had difficulty for the ten years she’s been modeling.”
“You’ve been lucky,” Nico said. “You can’t bank on that good luck continuing.”
“Fortress has a division that sells and installs alarm systems,” Trace said. “Unless you want to go with another company, I’ll set up the installation of the system you need to keep you and your sister safe. If Shadow wasn’t on mission rotation this month, I’d install the system myself. Since you can’t wait for me to be off work, I’ll have our best techs do the job.”
