Read Online Cold Comfort by Ellis Vidler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellis Vidler
Tags: Romantic Ssuspense
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decorations. "Let me hold those for you."
"Thanks. I guess I need a basket." She filled Claire's hands. "Do you have any more of those mosaic tile crosses by the Texas artist? What's her name? I want one for my sister."
"Marilyn Camp? I just unpacked some new ones. I'll show you." Claire snagged one of the red baskets she stashed around the store. People always ended up with handfuls of little items they couldn't hang onto. She deposited the ornaments in the basket and led the woman to a display of handmade crosses, some decorated with charms, others with keys and odd objects. "Here they are."
"You know, if you're changing insurance companies, my husband could find you a good policy. He's an independent agent," Debbie said as she examined the selection. She pointed to a cross. "There. The one with the garden charms and the salmon-colored tiles."
"Changing insurance companies? No." Absently, Claire placed the cross in the basket with the ornaments. Her insurance? The only claim she'd made was at the hospital the other night. Surely there hadn't been time to respond. "Why? Have they dropped me or something?"
"Oh, I don't think so. It's just that the new company sent for your records. They have to evaluate you before they'll issue a new policy." She picked out a silver star from a cascade spilling from a straw cornucopia. "Umm. Look at this."
"Debbie, I haven't authorized anyone to get my medical records. I haven't talked to anyone about insurance of any kind." What's this about? A picture of her disturbed medical file flashed across her mind. Could there be a connection? "Do you still have the request? Have you sent the records?"
"Yes to both. They sent an authorization with your signature. What's going on?"
"Probably just a mix-up. I may come by to verify it though, just to see if I need to do anything. But if I do change companies, I promise I'll check with your husband." She smiled and changed the subject. "Are these ornaments for your tree? It must be a traditional one." She rang up Debbie's purchases and wrapped the ornaments in tissue paper.
"Yes, colored lights and tinsel, the works." Debbie took the bag from Claire. "When you come in about your stitches, I'll show you the insurance company request." She waved and started for the door. "I've got to get back. I've spent my whole lunch hour here."
"Here." Claire handed her a small cellophane-wrapped package of cookies, tied with a red bow. "Take these back to your office."
She watched the woman leave, wondering who wanted her medical records and why. The thought of some stranger pouring over the personal details of her body, a kind of remote voyeur, made her decidedly uncomfortable. She shuddered. Why would anyone be interested? Maybe it was nothing, but it bothered her. If the store stayed quiet, she'd check it out this afternoon.
Chapter 6
By four, the light on Riley's crude alarm system flashed with comforting regularity. He sat back and brushed his hands together, satisfied. Magnetic devices on the windows and doors acted as sensors. He'd have to warn her about disturbing them. On-off switches in the hall and the kitchen, easily accessible from the front and back doors, activated the system, and relays and timers would allow Claire a minute to disarm and reset them when she went out or came in. The alarm he selected went off in a loud, undulating wail. No one nearby would sleep through it, not even the kid next door.
He sipped another cup of coffee and surveyed his handiwork. It wasn't beautiful, not even subtle, but she could live with it, and the wailing siren would send any remotely sane intruder hightailing it for home. And he was sure the men after Claire were sane. They wanted something — Riley just hadn't figured out what.
He checked his watch. Almost time to pick her up. The red dress sprang to life in his imagination. Jesus. Get a grip . He called the shop to remind her to stay inside with Mary until he arrived.
A woman answered.
"Thanks. I guess I need a basket." She filled Claire's hands. "Do you have any more of those mosaic tile crosses by the Texas artist? What's her name? I want one for my sister."
"Marilyn Camp? I just unpacked some new ones. I'll show you." Claire snagged one of the red baskets she stashed around the store. People always ended up with handfuls of little items they couldn't hang onto. She deposited the ornaments in the basket and led the woman to a display of handmade crosses, some decorated with charms, others with keys and odd objects. "Here they are."
"You know, if you're changing insurance companies, my husband could find you a good policy. He's an independent agent," Debbie said as she examined the selection. She pointed to a cross. "There. The one with the garden charms and the salmon-colored tiles."
"Changing insurance companies? No." Absently, Claire placed the cross in the basket with the ornaments. Her insurance? The only claim she'd made was at the hospital the other night. Surely there hadn't been time to respond. "Why? Have they dropped me or something?"
"Oh, I don't think so. It's just that the new company sent for your records. They have to evaluate you before they'll issue a new policy." She picked out a silver star from a cascade spilling from a straw cornucopia. "Umm. Look at this."
"Debbie, I haven't authorized anyone to get my medical records. I haven't talked to anyone about insurance of any kind." What's this about? A picture of her disturbed medical file flashed across her mind. Could there be a connection? "Do you still have the request? Have you sent the records?"
"Yes to both. They sent an authorization with your signature. What's going on?"
"Probably just a mix-up. I may come by to verify it though, just to see if I need to do anything. But if I do change companies, I promise I'll check with your husband." She smiled and changed the subject. "Are these ornaments for your tree? It must be a traditional one." She rang up Debbie's purchases and wrapped the ornaments in tissue paper.
"Yes, colored lights and tinsel, the works." Debbie took the bag from Claire. "When you come in about your stitches, I'll show you the insurance company request." She waved and started for the door. "I've got to get back. I've spent my whole lunch hour here."
"Here." Claire handed her a small cellophane-wrapped package of cookies, tied with a red bow. "Take these back to your office."
She watched the woman leave, wondering who wanted her medical records and why. The thought of some stranger pouring over the personal details of her body, a kind of remote voyeur, made her decidedly uncomfortable. She shuddered. Why would anyone be interested? Maybe it was nothing, but it bothered her. If the store stayed quiet, she'd check it out this afternoon.
Chapter 6
By four, the light on Riley's crude alarm system flashed with comforting regularity. He sat back and brushed his hands together, satisfied. Magnetic devices on the windows and doors acted as sensors. He'd have to warn her about disturbing them. On-off switches in the hall and the kitchen, easily accessible from the front and back doors, activated the system, and relays and timers would allow Claire a minute to disarm and reset them when she went out or came in. The alarm he selected went off in a loud, undulating wail. No one nearby would sleep through it, not even the kid next door.
He sipped another cup of coffee and surveyed his handiwork. It wasn't beautiful, not even subtle, but she could live with it, and the wailing siren would send any remotely sane intruder hightailing it for home. And he was sure the men after Claire were sane. They wanted something — Riley just hadn't figured out what.
He checked his watch. Almost time to pick her up. The red dress sprang to life in his imagination. Jesus. Get a grip . He called the shop to remind her to stay inside with Mary until he arrived.
A woman answered.
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