Chapter Six
Since I guessed that “Skyheart Designs” didn’t open until at least ten, I took my time the next morning with showering and getting ready, tying my favorite blue and purple scarf around my neck, taking more care with my makeup than I normally would. I’d brought my laptop, but I’d been so tired the evening before that I hadn’t even opened it up before falling into bed.
Now, though — after I’d signed on to the hotel’s wireless, since Taos appeared to be even more of a digital sinkhole than Sedona — I found about fifty unread messages in my inbox: some spam, some from potential clients, a petulant one from Jeff asking why I hadn’t accepted his Facetime request, since he had some important information he needed to share with me. Maybe he’d had some luck with that gizmo he’d design
