Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

THAT motherfucker, Heath Powell, drove Mystery away before Axel could say more than a handful of words to her. He heard the last of the spinning tires and watched the black car disappear down the street. His guts fell somewhere around his toes and his heart broke open wide.

Why the fuck was he just now grasping the fact that he’d fallen completely in love with Mystery Mullins? Not that his stupid ass realization did him any good now.

Hell, she’d blindsided him. One minute the sex had been so hot she’d nearly melted him, but his need for more than her body had been something new. Axel hadn’t known how to interpret it. He’d never felt anything like that. So he’d avoided labeling it.

Wasn’t that biting him in the ass now? Maybe if he’d realized his feelings sooner, he could have simply told her he loved her and they could have avoided this stupid misunderstanding at the café. Instead, she’d seen him “cheating” and overreacted. But Axel kind of understood because when he’d seen her kiss Heath, he’d felt some weird red haze jack up his temper. Then she’d threatened to leave, and he’d totally overreacted, too.

So rather than holding her close, he got to watch Mystery skid out of the parking lot with the man she’d locked lips with behind the wheel. Axel tried to imagine spending his life without her. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

So what now? Chase after her like a damn puppy? Axel sighed at the picture that painted. But wasn’t that better than spending the rest of his life with his insides crushed and feeling as if he were missing the other half of his soul?

Put like that, the dog scenario sounded way better.

But would that be the end of it? Would she run out on him yet again because she wasn’t capable of the death-do-us-part, forever sort of love? He didn’t want to be gloom and doom, but for the third time in twenty-fours, she’d left him cold. How was he supposed to get over that?

Axel stood with his hands on his hips, gaping at the street, though the town car was long gone from view. He had no ride back to his rental at the farm. He’d have to find one, then wait for Mystery and her aunt to return so he could talk some sense into her. He’d figure out why he’d suddenly felt a pressing need to pee yet again and apologize for not taking the waitress’s overtures seriously until it was too late. If that didn’t work, if Mystery wouldn’t talk to him . . . he’d have to figure out what fucking tactic to take next, because he couldn’t give up. That only led to the bottom of a bottle and decades of misery.

He turned to find Patrice looking brutally confused and grabbed her arm. “You tell me. Why the hell did you climb all over me uninvited?”

Grimacing, she yanked her arm free and removed the elastic band securing her blond tresses in a ponytail. “I was hired to. I’m an actress. Someone contacted my agent and paid my travel expenses out to this one-pony town to pull a practical joke on you.”

Axel heard her words—and she might as well have been speaking a foreign language. “What?”

Who the hell would do that? And why? Axel’s thoughts raced. Someone wanted him separated from Mystery and had figured out that she’d stomp away if she believed he couldn’t keep his pants zipped. He could only see two possible motives: Either someone didn’t like his relationship with Mystery—Heath came to mind—or someone dangerous wanted her to be minus a protector who would lay down his life to save hers.

Too late for that. “Call your agent and ask him who hired you.”

So Heath was toying with him . . . or the killer was. Axel did some quick mental math. Could Heath come up with ten grand plus travel expenses in less than twenty-four hours? Since Joaquin had already given him the guy’s bank balance before Patrice had been hired, Axel knew the answer was no. Heath had investments, but none he could get his hands on right away.

Since he didn’t think Heath wanted to kill Mystery, this stunt probably had nothing to do with her love life and everything to do with the reason for her mother’s murder. That made Heath the last line of Mystery’s defense against the psycho hunting her.

Axel groaned. Yeah, he’d said that he wouldn’t come after Mystery if she left him again. But he couldn’t stay away. The circumstances had been extenuating, and someone had set them up to fail. He intended to make sure they didn’t succeed, especially if her life was on the line.

Who wanted Mystery dead? Who, among her friends or family, had the money and connections to hire this actress at the last minute? Gail Leedy had chosen the restaurant, which cast suspicion on her, but the woman didn’t have any money to hire someone. Axel had seen her bank balance, too. After selling off the land around her farm for a pittance to a neighbor about ten years ago, she’d lived on it and her salary from the medical clinic, saving a modest amount in an IRA. She donated more money to religious organizations each month than to the upkeep of her own home. And why would the pious older woman want her niece dead?

Axel sighed. He didn’t have time for a fucking puzzle. He had to get to Mystery pronto, but he had no car and didn’t know the name of her attorney’s office.

Beside him, Patrice—if that was even her name—hovered, looking utterly contrite.

He turned to her. “Did you meet the café’s manager or owner before you started this farce?”

Yanking his phone from his belt, Axel scrolled through his contacts until he found Heath’s number. It rang once . . . twice . . . a third time—then rolled to voice mail.

He swore as the last of the Brit’s clipped greeting played. “Mystery is in danger. I have a bad feeling that once she gets her hands on whatever her mother left for her, all hell will break loose. Call me as soon as you get this. If I can figure out where you’re going, I’ll head in that direction.”

Axel ended the call, then someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to find Patrice standing there with a salty older woman whose hair was a very unlikely shade of red. She was sixty-five if she was a day. She chomped on a piece of gum, looking at him as if she’d seen and done it all and now it bored her terribly.

Nice, but they didn’t have time for memory lane now. He cleared his throat. “My girlfriend has gone to an attorney’s office to deal with the last provisions of a will. I’m told the office is about three miles east of here. Any idea whose office I should be looking for?”

She nodded as if he’d asked an easy question. “Sure. You want Press and Osborne. I’ll give you the address, but you head down the main drag . . .”

Axel took note as the woman gave him directions, committing cross streets and the name of the building in which the offices were located to memory.

The blonde held up her hands, stare incredulous. “I’m an actress, not a waitress.”

Patrice rolled her eyes and extracted a wad of bills from a pocket in her little skirt. She shoved a handful of bills into Betty’s palm. “If I never come here again, I’ll be thrilled.”

Ditto for him, Axel thought.

Frustration crawled over Axel like a million stinging ants. “Can either of you tell me how to find a fucking taxi in this town before my girlfriend dies?”

At that, Betty scrambled to attention. “Yeah. Should I call the police?”

For a crime that hadn’t actually happened yet? The cops wouldn’t do a damn bit of good until it was too late. “I can do that. Just get me a taxi.”

As Betty darted away to do his bidding, Axel stabbed at the screen of his phone again. He only knew one person who had money to burn, contacts in Hollywood, and secrets to keep. He intended to get the son of a bitch on the phone now.

Finally, he pressed the button to engage the call.

When Axel turned to nod at her, he noticed that the jaded woman’s face had softened. “Thanks.”

He stepped outside to await his ride and turned his focus on Mullins again. “Did you have anything to do with your wife’s murder? Did you pay someone to off her? Who’s going to rub Mystery out here in Kansas? You’ll have an even better alibi this time, by the way, being over a thousand miles away. Smart thinking.”

Her father sighed. “Let me see if I can get ahold of Heath and have him skip this appointment with the attorney and take her to a safe location.”

The director let out a rough breath. “You did. I swear, my only concern is Mystery’s safety. I’ll be right back with you.”

Axel squirmed in his seat. Damn it, he needed to pee again, and he had no idea why. He didn’t have time to deal with this shit.

The minute seemed to take ten years before Mullins clicked back over and let out a panicked groan. “Heath isn’t answering me, either. You think something is wrong?”

Axel could almost guarantee it was. “Tell me whose secret you’re keeping or what you’re protecting. It may help me save her life. Because I can’t think of any other way to help her right now.”

Mullins gave him a shaky sigh. “All right, but I kept this to myself purely for Mystery’s protection. I never wanted anything to touch her, and I never dreamed that it could become her worst nightmare. What I’m about to say can never leak out to the public. And it can’t ever reach her ears.”

* * *

IN the passenger’s seat, Mystery curled her knees against her chest, heels clinging to the corner of the seat, and lowered her head. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry. Her aunt would only tell her to rely on God. Maybe that would be a comfort to the woman, but Mystery couldn’t manage spiritual just now. And she had no right to ask Heath for anything after she’d tried to use him to make Axel feel as wretched as she did.

What had she been thinking? Nothing, clearly. She’d let emotion take over like an idiot. Normally, she’d scoff at people who couldn’t keep their crap together. In fact, Mystery couldn’t remember a time since that spat with Axel at the hotel in the ghost town when she’d been worked up enough to lose all sense of logic. But now . . . she knew how being completely shocked and emotional screwed with her head.

She’d lashed out at Axel for hurting her, and it definitely hadn’t been her proudest moment. In fact, she’d really like to forget it, go back to the wee hours of the morning when she’d been cozied up with Axel in bed, feeling so loved and secure. She knew that unleashing her temper, as she’d done after Axel’s rejection in Cerro Gordo, solved nothing. She also knew how much running out would hurt Axel. But she’d done it anyway. Now she had to face that fact, like life, head-on.

He nodded slowly, then glanced into the rearview mirror at her aunt in the backseat. “Where to?”

She winced. She’d hurt his feelings. Somehow, she had to make amends.

Mystery wanted to say something that would soothe Heath, but he wasn’t wrong, and lying would only make matters worse. “I’m sorry.”

Mystery peered over at him, eyes willing and wishing she could comfort him, even as she acknowledged that she was the problem. And that made her feel awful. “I care for you. I really do.”

A bolt of shock struck her square in the chest. “What are you saying?”

She didn’t deserve to indulge in a pity party, but she couldn’t seem to not make herself the guest of honor. How had she managed to screw up everything so catastrophically so quickly? How did she pull herself out of it?

Suck it up, cupcake. Tomorrow, she could be on her way back to the UK. She’d sort through whatever her mom had left her, along with the mess she’d made of her life, and figure out what to do next. Right now, she just had to get through this meeting.

Mystery sniffled and rifled in the glove box for some tissues, using them to dab her eyes. “I understand. I never meant to hurt you.”

He answered with a manly grunt and focused unwaveringly on the road ahead. Finally, they reached the attorney’s office and parked. After checking her face—her eyes were a puffy nightmare, but at least she hadn’t been wearing mascara—Mystery dug some lipstick out of her purse and applied it.

As Heath exited the car, he looked around cautiously, taking note of the street, passersby, other cars, any open windows. Mystery knew the drill. He went through the rundown in his head anytime they were in public.

Mystery nodded at her aunt. “In my purse. I’m ready.”

No, but she’d run out of time. She’d dragged her feet in claiming her mother’s belongings at eighteen, telling herself that her friends and future were more important than a bunch of her mom’s junk from the past. The truth was, she hadn’t really wanted to sift through the contents and have to deal with the aftermath of what she found. Then she’d moved to London, so the excuses had been easy. When would she ever get to Emporia, Kansas, again, right? But in order to pursue what she’d been feeling for Axel, she’d had to give her father a plausible excuse, and retrieving her mother’s effects had slipped off her tongue. Now that her relationship with Axel was in shambles, Mystery wished she could snuggle in front of the fire in her flat back home with her laptop, her characters, and a glass of wine, far away from the uncertainty and danger.

In front of the elevator a sign affixed to a dangling red chain hanging between two stanchions read OUT OF ORDER. Aunt Gail groaned as they made their way up the stairs, huffing and puffing hard by the third flight. En route, they passed a dentist’s office, a tutoring facility, and quite a few suites under refurbishment.

When they reached the fourth floor, Heath opened the door and peeked out. Once he deemed the empty space safe, he waved them out of the stairwell.

Mystery stepped through, checking the open landing with faux trees and nondescript dark-wood and beige chairs. The short pile carpeting in an uninspiring shade of oatmeal and the wall sconces with brass accents looked tired and out of date.

Whatever. She just wanted this over with. She was concerned that whoever had left the threatening picture in her hotel room in Dallas would be lying in wait for her here. Mystery would love to believe that, somehow, she’d lost the psycho’s trail and could just search her mother’s belongings in peace, but a tingling at the back of her neck told her otherwise. And after all the drama of the day, she absolutely didn’t need more.

Inside the office’s faux frosted-glass double doors, a fortysomething receptionist looked up from her gossip magazine, barely concealing irritation at the interruption, and buzzed Mr. Osborne. Two minutes later, she ushered them to the back, past a coffee station, a dark office, then to the end of the hall. The placard on the door read NELSON OSBORNE.

A man pushing sixty rose to his average height, wearing his gray suit well as he stood and greeted them with a jaunty wave. The movement didn’t ruffle his artificially dark hair, sprayed into place just so.

But Heath gave himself away when he nodded sharply, cased the office, then took up sentry by the door. So inconspicuous . . . Mystery sighed.

Osborne sat again. “You look so much like your mother. It’s uncanny. She was a beautiful woman, too. I was so sorry to hear about her sudden and terrible passing.”

Mystery really didn’t want to rehash it now. She felt as if she’d reached the drama quotient lately, and she’d grieve her mother’s death again on its anniversary next Tuesday. “Thank you. As you know, I’ve come for her effects.”

He nodded. “We’ll have a few papers to sign, but let’s claim your mother’s belongings, then you can acknowledge receipt and whatnot. You have your key?”

Mystery followed suit. While keeping her mother’s possessions at the bank made more sense, she wished Osborne could have simply had them waiting for her. Legally, she knew that wasn’t possible, but she was anxious to have this behind her and return safely to the farm so she could lick her wounds in private. And she had to admit that she hoped she’d see Axel if he came back for his duffel and rental car. No idea what she’d say to him. She didn’t know how to reconcile so many red flags that pointed to him being a cheater with the hero she’d first fallen for. Had she gotten it all wrong today? Even if she had, she didn’t think he’d tolerate the fact that she’d told him off and walked out.

Aunt Gail fidgeted in her seat. “Goodness, I’d rather not have to walk up and down the stairs again. Your elevator is out of order, and I’m afraid I’m not recovered from the last hike. May I stay here?”

Osborne looked around his fastidious office. Not a single sheet of paper cluttered his massive mahogany desk. He ensured all his filing cabinets were locked and closed his laptop, which likely needed a password to access. “Of course. Forgive me, but I’m required to be cautious with other people’s sensitive legal issues.”

Mystery followed Osborne out the door, down the stairs, and to the bank. It was a sterile environment that tried to look friendly, with posters of people supposedly happy about taking out loans. Or maybe she was just feeling cynical right now because she was miserable thinking about Axel, not to mention worried that someone would try to kill her.

Within moments, a female bank employee in gray pants and a blue sweater had given her a form to sign and checked her ID. Everyone followed the woman with the flowing brown curls into the room with the safe-deposit boxes, passing row after row of the drawers in different sizes. Toward the back, the bank’s officer produced her key. Mystery fished the other from her purse. Together, they opened the dual locks and withdrew the box from its slot to place it on the lone table in the adjacent room.

Osborne stepped back. “Would you prefer for me to stay or go?”

She kind of wished Axel was here, too, but refused to dwell on what wasn’t and might never be again. Then she took a deep breath, wondering if she could ever really be ready to face whatever her mom had safeguarded for her, shut the door to the private room, and lifted the box’s lid.

Inside, she found some jewelry, including some diamond earrings that had once belonged to her maternal grandmother. Julia had worn them on her wedding day, and they’d become a gift, as Mystery had heard the story. She also found a gorgeous cross made of rose and yellow gold entwined with lovely flourishes and embellishments. The center sparkled with a diamond that had to be at least a carat. Where had that come from? She didn’t remember her mom wearing it.

Mystery also found what looked like some letters to her mom from her dad. Instantly, she recognized her father’s handwriting on the yellowed envelopes. Based on the postmark of the first few, they had been written during their courtship and the early days of their marriage.

Despite their ill-fated union, these notes had been valuable to her mother. Mystery already knew that her father kept some from his late wife locked in his desk, along with a collection of her pictures. They’d loved each other completely and passionately once. Why had her father never tried to be a better husband? They’d both been human, filled with insecurity and capable of stupid mistakes. Had her mother somehow failed to understand that?

Tears sprang to her eyes, and Mystery sniffed them away. Now wasn’t the time to get philosophical. She had to carry on.

She didn’t see anything else at the bottom of the box. So odd . . . It didn’t seem possible that these few pieces of jewelry or the dozen love notes would really be worth killing or dying for.

Mystery lifted the earrings out of the box, wondering what her mother had been thinking when she’d placed them here for the last time. Had she known she’d never wear them again?

Swallowing back a lump of grief and loss, she tucked the diamond drops in her ears and closed her eyes. The earrings weren’t heavy. In fact, she barely felt them, but wearing the gorgeous glittery things made her feel somehow closer to her mom.

She touched the cross with a reverent finger, tracing the lines, before picking it up and fastening it around her neck. The cross fell just below the hollow of her throat and felt shockingly cold against her skin. Then again, the necklace had been sitting untouched by human warmth for sixteen years.

Mystery didn’t have a mirror so she couldn’t comment. Heath was probably right, but she wanted to wear the cross. It made her feel as if death, along with nearly a decade and a half, didn’t separate her from her mom.

She lifted the stack of notes to open the first one and peek at the contents. As she did, she noticed something totally new underneath.

A little electronic disc of some sort, small and almost square. The kind capable of holding a tell-all book that might have gotten her mother killed?

Mystery’s blood turned to ice.

Heath took the disc from her numb fingers. “It’s an SD card. We need to read this quickly and decide on our best course of action.”

She knew that, even if everything inside her violently disagreed. “How?”

Just like that, he’d open his trunk, and inside two minutes she would be reading whatever secrets her mother had kept until the day she died. Was she really ready for this?

Did she have a choice?

He gave her back a soothing pat. She may have insulted or upset him at the café today, but he’d put all that aside to comfort her because she needed it. Mystery wished she could have loved him in return. Heath would be a devoted protector and lover. He could be serious or funny. He was highly intelligent and had a great sense of adventure. Unfortunately, kissing him hadn’t given her a fraction of the giddy, heart-beating thrill that simply being in the same room with Axel did.

She shoved the letters and the SD card in her purse, leaving the jewelry on. She signaled to the bank manager that she was done. Once the empty safe-deposit box was locked up, she signed the paperwork necessary to terminate the box, then left with Heath and Osborne, the attorney mentioning just a few more papers she needed to sign in his office.

A warm breeze brushed her face and the late afternoon sun blinded her as she walked between them back to the office building. The attorney led the way, while Heath watched her back. Heart pumping, Mystery kept vigilant, almost expecting someone to jump out at her and demand she turn over her mother’s effects.

Inside the office building again, the air was almost too still. The carpenters renovating the empty suites on the lower floors were either packing up for the day or already gone.

Finally, they reached the fourth floor and Osborne’s office again. Inside, they found Aunt Gail reading a paperback she’d likely pulled from her purse, and sipping coffee. She’d poured several other cups and left them on the corner of the desk.

As soon as they entered, she jumped out of her seat. “Were you successful?”

Mystery didn’t really want to talk about it, but of course her aunt wanted to know what her only sister had left behind before her death. “Yeah. I found letters and jewelry.” She showed off the earrings and the cross. “And some other stuff. We’ll look at it more carefully in the car.”

He smiled almost smugly. “It took me over a decade to find the perfect coffee. It’s a Kona-Colombian blend. I have it specially roasted in Mexico, but it’s about the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

Her aunt smiled, then settled back into her chair, shoving the book in her purse as Mystery and Osborne got down to business.

Several conversations and a handful of forms later, she stood and shook the attorney’s hand. Her aunt did the same. Heath nodded. As Mystery looked his way, she noticed he was slow to push away from the wall.

He looked pale. His lids drooped tiredly. His mouth looked a bit slack. Mystery didn’t think he felt all right. But she knew the stubborn man. He could have a limb hanging off or be dying of a hemorrhagic fever and he’d still insist that he felt fine.

With a sigh at his stubbornness, they made their way out the office. Heath stopped at the receptionist’s desk. “Can you show me where to find your loo?”

At the slur of his words, Mystery frowned and wrapped a hand around his arm.

The woman barely peeked over her magazine to send him a confused stare. Then she narrowed her eyes at him. “Loo? I’ve never heard it called that, but no way am I lifting my skirt for a total stranger—I don’t care how hot you are—and showing you my—”

She had the good grace to turn pink. “Sorry. Across the hall, to the right of the elevator. Second door.”

Heath nodded. “Thanks.”

When he tripped over his own two feet heading across the open space, Mystery tugged on his arm. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

His expression looked a tad unfocused until he blinked and spent some effort focusing on her. “I’ll be all right. The jet lag and lack of sleep lately just have me a bit knackered.”

While his answer made sense, his words sounded even more slurred than before. Mystery didn’t like it.

As the woman put a hand to her head, Mystery watched them both, wondering if someone had slipped something in their coffee. After all, she and Mr. Osborne had been the only ones not to drink it.

With a nod, Heath shoved the car keys in her hand, then pushed into the restroom, not quite steady on his feet. As she watched him with a concerned frown, her aunt nearly lost her balance while standing perfectly still. Mystery cursed. She didn’t want to leave either of them alone.

Axel would really have come in handy right now, a voice whispered in her head. Yes, he would, but she needed him for far more than helping her ailing traveling party. Her heart needed him. As soon as Heath reached the car, she’d return to the café and hunt her man down. They had to talk. She just couldn’t believe that today’s lunch was the end of them. It couldn’t be. Mystery didn’t think she could live without him. She didn’t really want to try.

Was this why her mother had taken so long to work up the gumption to leave her father? Had she known it was in her best interest but she just hadn’t been able to break away from the charismatic man she’d fallen for?

Disquieted by the parallel between her life and her mom’s, she turned to Aunt Gail, firmly focusing on the present. “I’ll help you to the car.”

The older woman gave her a shaky nod, then grabbed her arm to steady herself. “Thank you.”

She heard water splashing, heard him grunt out an answer. He didn’t sound good, and she wondered what the hell was going on.

As Mystery raced back to her aunt’s side, foreboding gonged through her belly. Everyone around her today seemed afflicted by some ailment. Had someone concocted a ploy to get her alone? But who could have tampered with Axel’s bladder, as well as Heath’s and Aunt Gail’s equilibrium? She would have suspected the attorney, but he hadn’t been at the café. She’d love to blame Patrice, but shouldn’t any drug the skanky waitress put in their food have taken effect within thirty minutes?

Thankfully, Mystery guided her aunt down the stairs, and she seemed to recover a bit with the exertion. Outside, the brisk wind in her face revived her a bit, too.

She helped Aunt Gail around to the passenger’s door and opened it for her. “There you go. Get settled, and I’ll be back with Heath in a moment.”