by Elise Noble
Yes, I’d be scraping my dear assistant off the floor by the end of the night.
In the dining room, Cesar introduced himself to Mina and the waitress, then took the latter off to show her around. A troupe of waitstaff showed up with food, and Bradley downed his cocktail while talking at a hundred miles an hour and sprinkling fifty-dollar bills around. Bradley high on a slot-machine win was loopier than Bradley on amphetamines. How do I know that? Because when he mistook part of a friend and colleague’s arsenal of pills for paracetamol, he’d talked for two days straight while reupholstering every damn chair in my house. And this was worse.
Fortunately, I managed to find a quiet corner to speak with Mina, Valerie, and Dan, while Carmen and Mack were under strict instructions to stop Bradley by any means necessary if he even considered going near a poker table. A waiter poured me a glass of white, my first of the day, and boy did I need it.
“Do you remember taking a DNA test?” I asked Mina. No point in beating about the bush any longer.
“A DNA test? No?”
“A cheek swab,” Valerie prompted. “You would have sent it away to get processed.”
“Oh, right, the Q-tip thing? One of my bridesmaids gave me a kit for a wedding gift because she thought it would be cute to do a family tree for our future children, but it’s not really my bag. I don’t think I ever did anything with the results.”
“They got uploaded to an online database a few months ago. You would have ticked a box agreeing to that when you filled in the form.”
“Probably, I guess. But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. My family’s tiny. Only two people and a dog. My husband, his family’s enormous. Maybe he should have taken the test instead?”
“No, it’s your side of the family we’re interested in.”
“Why? Who are you people? I don’t think you ever did say.”
“We’re private investigators from Virginia.”
Mina took a long, slow look around the room. Ana was stretched out on a sofa, eyes closed, Carmen and Mack were trying to catch M&Ms in their mouths, and Bradley had swapped his Fraggle for a crown.
“Really?”
“We don’t all wear trench coats and bad shoes,” Dan said.
“Dan’s the lead investigator,” I said, waving a hand in her direction. “Valerie’s our genetic genealogist, and the rest of us just came for the party. Valerie, do you want to summarise what you found?”
Our eyes glazed over while Valerie talked about base pairs, chromosomes, genetic markers, and Gwendolyn’s past, but eventually she got to the good part.
“So, your genes very much suggest that you’re related to our client. A niece, perhaps?”
Mina was already shaking her head. “No, I don’t think that’s right. My mom only has one sister. My Aunt Rhoda.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“Well, yes. They don’t talk much about family, but I’m sure they’d have mentioned another sibling. Occasionally Mom says a few words about her mom. Grandma Beulah died when I was five, and Grandpa Enoch passed before I was born. My pop’s family is bigger—he has three brothers—but I haven’t seen him since my parents got divorced, and you said you’re looking at my mom’s side? Because of the mita…the mito…”
“The mitochondria. Yes. Do you think we could speak with your mom and your aunt? They may be able to help. Sometimes even the tiniest detail, the most insignificant of memories, can lead to a breakthrough.”
“How old did you say the lady was?”
“Gwendolyn? She’s fifty-nine.”
“Then I doubt my mom would know anything. She’s only fifty-seven. This all happened before she was born.”
Or… My ears pricked up. Or she was the missing sister. The ages would fit. Two-year-old Gwendolyn and a newborn baby. Mom and daughter, aunt and niece. Valerie glanced sideways at me, and I knew she’d had the same thought. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. This was why she stared at her computer all day, wasn’t it? Weeks of research followed by the thrill of the chase. At that moment, I understood her better. She wasn’t so different from the rest of us.
“Your aunt may be able to shed some light,” she suggested. “How old is she?”
“Older than my mom. Uh, seventy-one? Do you really think I might have a relative I’ve never met?”
“The DNA certainly hints at that possibility. Would we be able to speak with your aunt? Perhaps call her?”
“She doesn’t talk on the phone.”
“Not at all?”
“She has hearing problems, so she lip-reads.”
“We could try a video call?”
“She doesn’t have a computer either. I’d ask the questions for you, but my flight home got cancelled, so now I’m stuck here for Christmas. When I said it had been a bad day, I meant a really bad day.”
“Where does your aunt live?” I asked.
“Alaska. In a small town not far from Anchorage.”
So near, yet so fucking far. We had one full day before Christmas, and a deadline I couldn’t bend. At least I didn’t have to fly to Florida and pick up Alaric now—that had bought me a few extra hours—but did we have time to fly to Alaska? I did some rapid calculations involving distance, airspeed, and fuel. If we left at daybreak tomorrow, we could be in Anchorage by lunchtime. A couple of hours speaking with Mina’s aunt while Brett took a nap… Fly home overnight… Yes, I could still keep my promise to Kiara on Christmas Day.
“If you’ll take us to meet your aunt, then we’ll fly you home for Christmas. Deal?”
“Huh? But there aren’t any flights. I called every airline.” She managed a half-smile. “It’s not the worst thing in the world. At least I’ll be able to eat dinner with my husband once he’s finished work—he’s a chef at Sam’s Town—but I sure did want to see my mom. We saved up for months to buy me the ticket home.”
“We have our own jet. It’s sitting on the tarmac at McCarran International.”
Mina gave her head a little shake as if to clear the cobwebs. “Have I fallen into an alternate universe? Private investigators have private jets? I’m in the wrong job.”
“It’s a long story.”
Bradley danced over, a cocktail in each hand. He passed one to Mina. “Here, you look like you need this. And it’s not a long story—Emmy married a squillionaire. Are we going to Alaska? I’ve never been to Alaska. Thank goodness I packed three jackets.”
“Are we going to Alaska?” I asked Mina.
“I barely know you.”
“Take a chance,” Bradley urged her, slurring slightly. “She who takes no chances wins nothing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Did you get that out of a fortune cookie?”
“Maybe. But it’s true, though.”
Finally, Mina nodded. “Okay, we’ll go to Alaska. And thank you.”
CHAPTER 15
“HAS ANYONE SEEN the Tylenol?” Dan asked.
“Don’t talk to me,” Bradley groaned. “Just don’t.”
We’d made it to the plane by the skin of our teeth. With Bradley barely conscious, we’d been forced to wheel him out to the car on one of those carts the porters used for the suitcases, and yet somehow, he’d still managed to complain with every bump. I very much suspected Mack was still drunk because she couldn’t stop giggling with Valerie, and Carmen looked like a zombie. I’d been relying on Ana to be the sensible one, but I’d found her in the bar at four a.m. downing vodka shots and arm-wrestling with the Incredible Hulk’s big brother. Me? I’d taken four hundred grand off a bunch of tipsy high-rollers in a high-stakes poker game and celebrated with too many gin and tonics afterwards. Fuck, my head hurt.
“I have Tylenol in my purse,” Mina offered. Since she’d spent the remainder of the evening filling out paperwork with Cesar and learning about her new job, she’d managed to stay sober. Now I knew what envy felt like.
“Is it the Extra Strength stuff?” Bradley asked.
“Always.”
“I think I l
ove you.”
I stumbled through to the bedroom at the rear of the jet while the others collapsed into seats. Being the owner of the plane did have some advantages. And also I didn’t want to kill anyone with my nocturnal shenanigans. In the bedroom, I had a sturdy ring built into the headboard that I could handcuff myself to. Think that’s overkill? Well, I shot up my own kitchen in my sleep once.
The flight to Anchorage took six hours, and maybe if I hadn’t been quite so hung-over, I might have planned ahead. You know, asked where we were going once we got there, that sort of thing. Perhaps arranged transport.
But no, I’d done none of that.
“How long will it take to get to your aunt’s place?” I asked Mina as we landed. “Should we take a cab? Or rent a car?”
“Oh, my mom and aunt aren’t at home right now.”
“They aren’t?”
And she hadn’t thought to mention this before?
“No, my mom helps to organise the Anchorage Christmas Extravaganza at the Egan Center every year. That’s where they’ll be.”
Bradley knifed up from the couch. “Did somebody say Christmas Extravaganza?”
Uh-oh. “You must’ve misheard.”
“I definitely didn’t. Let me grab my purse.”
“Bradley, we agreed that you’d stay on the plane with Mack, Carmen, and Ana.”
“Yes, but that was before I got all the facts. I love Christmas shows.”
“But—”
“Good thing I still have twenty-five thousand dollars left. And the cargo bay’s half-empty.”
Ana started laughing, and I narrowed my eyes at her. She just waved.
“See you later. Good luck.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“Well, actually…” Mack started.
“Don’t worry, I’ll buy gifts for everyone,” Bradley said. “And the kids too.”
Hmm. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Tabby would love one of those glittery elf costumes. And Josh told me he wanted a snow machine.”
Ana’s smile turned into a scowl. Normal service: resumed, and it was my turn to snicker.
“Perhaps one of you could come along to help Bradley while we speak to Mina’s family?” I suggested. Translation: stop him. I didn’t care how.
Slowly, slowly, Ana climbed to her feet. “Next year, I’m going to Siberia for Christmas. Alone.”
“My mom isn’t answering her phone,” Mina said. “But I spoke to her last night and said we’d meet her at the convention centre, and she promised to leave our names with the team on the door.”
She probably wasn’t answering the phone because she couldn’t hear it. As we got closer to the doors, the happy, jolly music left my already fragile skull on the verge of exploding. The line stretched along the block, and it seemed that everyone else was feeling far more festive than Team Blackwood. Some of the costumes were quite spectacular—reindeer, fairies, a legion of elves, a couple of Christmas puddings, and at least thirty Father Christmases. Bradley came to life, taking pictures and asking everyone about their plans while the rest of us tried to block out the noise.
Finally, we got to the front of the queue, only for a giant Christmas tree complete with twinkling lights to hold up a hand.
“Sorry, can’t let you in. No costume, no entry.” He pointed at a sign behind him that said exactly that.
“We’re just here to meet somebody.”
“Then they’ll have to come outside.”
Mina had a try. “My mom’s one of the organisers.”
“Sure she is.”
“No, really.”
“Then you should know better than to try and get in without dressing up. Next person!”
He blanked us. The asshole actually blanked us, and my foot itched to kick him in the baubles. But Valerie and Mina were with us, and I didn’t want to make a bad impression.
“I’m so sorry,” Mina said. “I didn’t come to the extravaganza last year, and the year before that, costumes were encouraged but not compulsory.”
“Don’t worry; we’ll manage.” I didn’t give up easily. “Okay, Plan B. We’ll sneak in around the back.”
“Mom makes sure all the doors are locked. She’s very security conscious.”
“We’ll find a way.”
“I’ve got a better solution,” Bradley announced, and everyone swung around to look at him. “Why don’t we just get costumes?”
“From where?”
“There’s a mall right over there.” He rubbed his hands together in glee. “Shopping and Christmas—my two absolute favourite things.”
“I don’t have the energy to walk around a mall,” Mack told him.
“Then we’ll go to Plan C. You can get coffee, and I’ll find the costumes. Back in a jiffy.”
Bradley was gone before we could raise any objections. Was this a good idea? Or should we go to Plan D, whatever that was? I was in two minds whether to give chase and stop him. On the one hand, Bradley in a mall with a credit card was really, really dangerous, but on the other hand…coffee.
Coffee won.
Two double espressos and a latte later, my darling assistant reappeared, but this time, he wasn’t alone. Three shop assistants trailed behind him, each laden with bags. I’d only cried a handful of times in my life, but I genuinely felt like sobbing at that moment. Next year, I’d beg Ana to let me tag along to Siberia. Or sail to a desert island. We literally owned an island, so what the hell was I doing in Alaska?
“Here we go—costumes for everyone. We can borrow the bathroom to change.”
How horrific would this be? Since there were eight of us, I’d been betting on reindeer with Bradley as Rudolph, but no, what was I thinking? This was Bradley. He couldn’t possibly do something sensible. We got elves. And not just any old elves either.
“Uh, Bradley?” Mack said, peering into her bag. “I think this Christmas thing is for families.”
I tipped out the contents of my own allotted bag and found a stretchy red velvet leotard with fur-trimmed sleeves and a hood, a black belt, and thigh-high candy-striped stockings. Where the hell was the rest of it? I checked the bag again, but it was empty.
“Where did you buy this stuff?” Carmen asked. “A sex shop?”
“It’s mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve, and have you seen the crowd at the convention centre? All the other stores were sold out of costumes.”
Oh my freaking fuck. He’d bought our outfits from the Alaskan version of Ann Summers.
“I can’t wear this.” Carmen held up a green minidress edged with sparkles. “The Christmas tree on the front is decorated with dicks.”
“Yes, and I already thought of that. Ta-da! I bought extra pom-poms. We can glue them on.”
“My costume’s awesome,” Dan announced. “I love it.”
“Thank you, Dan. See? Somebody appreciates my work.”
Yes, it was awesome, if Dan wore it in the privacy of her bedroom for only Ethan to see. The red corset with a tiny skirt attached was practically indecent. We’d have to glue her tits into the top, but of course, Bradley had thought of that too. A package of toupee tape rolled across the floor.
Mack wriggled into her red minidress. “Perhaps one of us could go in and set off the fire alarm instead? Then everyone would come outside.”
“And ruin Mina’s mom’s amazing event? Mack! How could you?”
“I might be able to get in from the roof,” Ana said.
Ana’s floor-length gown, red with white fur on the collar and cuffs, sounded okay in theory, but it fastened with a belt at the waist and nothing else. The only thing standing between her and arrest for public exposure was a pair of velvet hot pants. We let Valerie and Mina have the stripy leggings with the green tunics because quite honestly, none of this was their fault.
I considered vetoing the whole idea and going home, but we’d come this far, and time was ticking. Our deadline for leaving Anchorage was ten p.m., and even that would be cutting it fine. Any later and I woul
dn’t be back in time to fly with Kiara.
Fuck it. We’d wear the outfits. We spent enough time in the gym that none of us had anything to be ashamed of, and I could pull my hood over my face. What was a little frostbite between friends? But next year, there’d be a holding cell at Riverley with Bradley’s name on it.
And what was he wearing? Why, a skintight Lycra catsuit, what else? He’d sprayed it with glitter and hastily stitched extra Fraggle around the edges.
“Let’s just get it over with,” I told the others. “Go inside, find Mina’s family, and then get the hell out of Dodge.”
CHAPTER 16
THIS TIME, THE guy on the door more or less rolled out the red carpet. I could feel his eyes on my ass as we walked inside. Gee, this wasn’t awkward at all.
The Anchorage Christmas Extravaganza was my worst nightmare come to life. Worse even than the time I’d infiltrated a Syrian army base and almost died in the process. Worse than getting shot at in the Colombian jungle. Worse than playing cat and mouse with a psychopathic Russian general. Give me solitary confinement any day.
On the stage at the far end of the exhibition hall, a dozen Santas lined up for Christmas karaoke, and an out-of-tune version of “Jingle Bell Rock” crackled above the noise of the crowd. There must have been five thousand people there, jostling for space around food stands and entertainers and people selling home-made gifts. Bradley was in his element, bopping around and trying samples of Christmas cake and cranberry cordial, but I only had one focus: solve Gwendolyn’s mystery.
“Any idea where your aunt might be?” I asked Mina.
“Probably by the stage. She’s always loved the singing.”
“Does your family really get involved with this every year?”
