“Other than that,” Jensen laughed, standing and heading into the kitchen, rummaging in a drawer before coming back with a stack of takeout menus. “Chinese? Italian? Indian? Pretty much everything you could want is around here. Take your pick.”
Ellis reached for the menus and smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t trust her brother either. “We appreciate the hospitality.”
His entire demeanor brightening, Jensen turned his attention to Ellis. “Maybe over dinner you can tell me some cop stories? I’d love to hear about some of the cases you’ve worked on.”
“I could do that but I warn you now they’re not nearly as exciting as on television—but a few are quite weird.”
Like this one? Nothing had gone as planned since she’d met her new friends Bailey and Willow. Everything she’d thought she knew about her life and marriage was being called into question. Truth and lies were all mixed up.
One thing was clear. Jensen knew more than he was saying.
Chapter Two
“He knew something,” Ellis growled into the phone when they returned to their hotel. He was talking to his friend Chase who was back in Williamsburg and updating him on the meeting with Jensen. “I know he does. Peyton assured me that she agrees with me but that he’s not ready to fess up to what he knows yet. She told me we need to give him time.”
Time they didn’t really have. Each moment that they didn’t find who had tried to kill Peyton was another moment that she was still in danger. Right now they were relatively safe in their room, Peyton soaking in the tub, but he didn’t know how long the peacefulness would last.
“How much time?” Chase asked, frustration in his tone.
“She said it shouldn’t take long for him to feel guilty. Of course she and I didn’t discuss the eight-hundred-pound elephant in the room.”
“Whether her brother was involved?” Chase guessed correctly. “I’m sure she’s trying to put it out of her head as thoroughly as possible. It’s her brother. She’s not going to believe he had anything to do with Greg’s death unless he confesses to it.”
There were voices in the background of the call but Ellis couldn’t make out what they were saying, only that they were feminine. Bailey and Willow must be listening in.
“Hold on one second, man. Okay, the ladies want to know if you’ve found Greg’s wife yet. They want to make sure they’re there for Peyton when that happens.”
Ellis wanted to be there for her as well, but he’d come to terms with the fact he couldn’t protect her from her late husband’s past. “Not yet. Hopefully tomorrow. We have the address but we kind of got sidetracked with Jensen tonight. If he decides to talk tomorrow, that will take precedence over seeing the other family.”
The other family.
It sounded so cold and clinical. Peyton had been handling every new revelation like a champ but how much more was she supposed to be able to take? Ellis was constantly second guessing their decision to come to London and meet the second wife. She might not have any helpful details regarding Greg’s death or his involvement with Evandria, and Peyton would simply end up hurting for nothing.
“Any luck talking to your senator?” Ellis asked Chase. “Or Grant Hollister?”
“No one’s heard from Grant since that note to Willow on the pizza receipt, which I guess is a good thing. He’s under the radar and hopefully he’s alive and safe. As for the senator, he’s not returning my calls. Not a shock actually, considering the last time we talked to him he was sure Evandria hadn’t done anything wrong. But I’ll keep trying.”
“Anything suspicious? Anything that you’re worrying about?”
Chase and Josh were charged with keeping Bailey and Willow safe, and from what Grant Hollister and Nigel Holmwood had told them that might be harder than it sounded.
“Nothing overt,” Chase replied. “We’re keeping to ourselves and staying out of sight for the most part. Josh did go into the office for a few hours today just to see if anyone was following him but he doesn’t think anyone was watching. I have to say though, it might just be paranoia but I feel like we’re being watched out here.”
Ellis had the same hinky feeling, that crawling sensation on the back of his neck as if there were eyes everywhere. He’d felt it in Heathrow, he’d felt it in the lobby of the hotel, and had even felt it when they were walking down the street in Notting Hill.
“If you need to go underground, just go. You know how to get a message to me outside of the regular channels, right?”
“I do. I just hope we don’t have to do it.”
Ellis paused and checked to see if Peyton was still in the bathtub with the door shut. “Listen, I need to be quick here because Peyton will be out here any moment but I saw something in Jensen’s apartment that I found intriguing. He had four gold coins framed and sitting on his mantle.”
Chase whistled. “Now that is interesting. He’s done the physical challenges that Josh and Willow learned about.”
“So the next question is, were any of those challenges with Grant, Archer, Nigel, or hey, even the senator? Or maybe Stephen Baxter? Just how incestuous is this organization?”
There was silence for a long moment before Chase spoke. “You think Jensen had something to do with this, don’t you?”
He’d thought of little else since he’d met Peyton’s brother mere hours ago. “I think that I don’t trust him. When someone lies to me about one thing, it makes me wonder what else he’s lying about.”
“Remember what Grant said,” Chase reminded him. “Don’t trust anyone.”
It wasn’t in Ellis’s nature to trust or believe. He was trained to be skeptical and to verify whatever a suspect said. He believed in actions over words and thoughts. Sadly, he believed that the evil that one man could do to another was more horrific than most people could imagine, but he’d seen it in all its sickening glory.
Peyton believed in the innate goodness of mankind. Somehow, she even believed in him.
So for her, he’d give Jensen McMillen the benefit of the doubt. For now.
“Do you have their address?” Ellis asked Peyton as they made their way out of the small cafe where they’d had breakfast and onto the sidewalk. The weather was typical for this time of the year, gray and rainy, making quite a contrast to the sun-drenched days they’d left behind, but at least the temperature was warm.
“Right here.” She held up her phone, showing him a map of the city. “She doesn’t live far.”
Peyton had spent time in London over the past several years so he was depending on her to know her way around. “Should we get a taxi?”
“It’s a quick tube ride,” she said with a grin. “You don’t mind rubbing elbows with the locals. do you?”
He preferred it. It was the best way to get to know a city. However, it might not be the safest, most controlled way to travel. “I think a taxi might be better. All those people around us are a threat.”
He hated to say it out loud but the fact was the bigger crowd they were in, the more opportunity there was for something to go wrong.
Her smile fell. “I guess you’re right.”
“I wish I wasn’t.”
He stepped off of the curb to hail a taxi, Peyton right behind him. One of the iconic black taxicabs began to move toward them, slowing down as it approached. He and Peyton stepped forward just as the cab lunged forward, tires squealing and engine roaring. With only a split second to react, his adrenaline surged and he pushed Peyton backward, covering her body with his own. Grunting in pain, they landed on the unforgiving pavement with a thud, jarring every bone in his body as he tried to shield her from the impact as much as possible.
Managing to look up, he saw the vehicle veer back into the stream of traffic, quickly lost among the other ubiquitous taxis. Moving his arms and legs, he grimaced as a pain shot through his bruised side. He leaned back and inspected the shaken woman in his arms from head to toe, looking for any sign of injury. Just the thought of her being hurt again had him strugglin
g to take a single breath.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he labored to his feet, helping her as a crowd began to gather around them. She appeared to be unharmed but he had to be sure. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, just startled. You have fast reflexes. We were almost roadkill,” she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Are you alright? You took the brunt of the fall.”
“I’ve acquired a few new bruises but other than that I’m okay.”
The onlookers were chattering, asking if they were hurt and if they needed a doctor. On high alert after what had happened, Ellis dispelled their fears and quickly pulled Peyton away from the crowd and down the street toward their hotel. The sooner he and she were in a controlled environment the better.
By some mutual agreement, neither said much until they were back inside the room. Ellis checked the suite while Peyton sank down onto the sofa in the sitting area. It was only when he joined her that he allowed himself to feel the full horror of what had almost transpired.
“I guess Evandria knows we’re here,” he finally said once his pulse rate was almost normal but his mind was still going a mile a minute as images of Peyton being hurt or killed rushed through his head.
Tucking her legs underneath her, Peyton let her head drop back on the cushions. “I guess they do. Hell of a welcome. I thought the British were supposed to be so nice and polite.”
He laughed but it wasn’t funny. “I don’t think the Brits had anything to do with this. This was Evandria all the way.”
She was quiet again, her gaze far away but where he didn’t know. Perhaps back home in Midnight Blue Beach or maybe further than that…with Greg.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Peyton.”
She nodded but didn’t look his way. “I know what you’re thinking.”
That was a possibility. He was fairly single-minded these days.
“Then you know I’m thinking of ways to keep you safe.”
Turning to him, he could see the tears in her sky blue eyes. “You’re thinking it’s a funny coincidence that we visited my brother last night and now I almost get run down.”
He’d been thinking that too, but hadn’t planned on making a big deal out of it. Not trusting people was par for the course for him and she shouldn’t be surprised.
“What do you think?”
She rubbed the side of her face like a sleepy child who needed a nap. She probably was sick and tired of being a target. “I think it’s a strange coincidence and I wonder who he’s really loyal to. Our family or Evandria?”
“I don’t have the answer for that,” Ellis said truthfully. “That’s something we already knew we needed to find out.”
This time she looked him right in the eye, her mouth turned down and her expression unutterably sad. “I’m not sure I can handle it if I find out Jensen was involved in Greg’s death. My own family…”
He moved closer and put an arm around her shoulders, careful not to get too personal. While they’d hugged and linked arms, even fallen asleep together on the couch, that didn’t mean she wanted him to hold her in his arms. He’d never put her into an unwanted position.
“Let me tell you, Peyton Nelson, that I think you can handle a hell of a lot. You’ve had an amazing amount of garbage thrown at you in these last few weeks, including a package bomb that put you into a coma. You’ve held your head high and dealt with each new revelation as it was revealed. It might not be easy but I have no doubt you’ll be fine in the end. You are a fierce warrior.”
She didn’t realize all the strength she carried inside of her. A lesser woman would have crumpled after all she’d been through.
“I hope you’re right because I have a funny feeling things are going to get worse before they get better.” The chime on her phone had her digging into her handbag. One look at the screen and she was groaning and rolling her eyes. “Wow, that came true fast.”
He frowned, not sure what she was alluding to.
“Hi, Mom and Dad. How are things?”
Having met Peyton’s mother and father, Ellis was sure of one thing. Nothing good could come from this. Her parents were toxic.
Chapter Three
Buffy and Charles McMillen were supposedly Peyton’s parents but since she’d been a teenager, she hadn’t been sure of that fact. While Jensen enjoyed the same things her mother and father did, she had always been the odd duck in the family.
Jensen had excelled at academics and couldn’t wait to join one of the family businesses.
Peyton had been artsy and creative, wanting to be a photographer. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with the family businesses, preferring instead to travel and see the world on a shoestring budget.
Her mother and father had despaired of Peyton ever “straightening up and assuming her responsibilities” which to her meant long, slow, agonizing torture by meetings and paperwork. She wanted to be outside, feeling the wind and sun on her face or feeling the raindrops on her skin. Being inside a classroom all day long had been unbearable.
So it was with great reluctance that Peyton climbed out of a taxi in front of her parents’ London home. She’d had no idea that they were even here since the last time she saw them was in Williamsburg at the hospital. Usually they spent summers in Tuscany.
Ellis paid the driver. “Are you ready for this?”
Staring at the formal edifice, she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn’t know why she was being summoned but she had a feeling it was because Jensen had…tattled on her. He’d always done that when they were kids, telling her parents when she’d flunked a test or worn eyeshadow when she wasn’t supposed to. He’d been a big pain in the ass and she’d hated that expression on his face when he told on her. So fucking morally superior. It was a miracle really that they were as close as they were now. Eventually she’d realized Jensen needed Buffy and Charles’s approval much more than she did.
“Is it too late to make a run for it?” she joked, giving Ellis her best side-eye.
He shrugged and smiled. “I only have to outrun you and with my much longer legs it should be a piece of cake.”
She placed her hand in the crook of his arm as they climbed the front steps. “But I’m highly motivated and I’d play dirty by tripping you.”
“Yes, you would, princess, but I’m a cop. I’d be ready for it.”
They stood at the front entrance, neither one reaching for the bell. Giggling at the absurdity of the situation, Peyton tried to school her features. Her parents weren’t big on frivolity or happiness of any kind.
The butler must have been watching for her because the door swung open without the ring of the doorbell, and he silently stepped back so she and Ellis could enter. A shiver ran through her at the coldness of the furnishings even though the temperature in the home was warm. Peyton had only been in this house once about five years ago but it hadn’t changed much. Vases worth tens of thousands of dollars, paintings that should have hung on a museum’s walls, furniture that wasn’t made to sit on.
“Your father is in the library,” the uniformed man informed them, his British accent smooth but he didn’t make eye contact, his gaze trained on an arrangement of roses on a round table. “Follow me, please.”
“It’s like Downton Abbey. I feel underdressed,” Ellis whispered as they lagged behind the butler, but not too far. Peyton didn’t remember where the library was located. Her parents had too many homes to keep them all straight.
“We are,” Peyton agreed readily, her stomach churning as they ventured deeper into the house. “Even if we wore evening clothes, we would be dressed inappropriately. I gave up pleasing them years ago.”
“It’s fancy. I bet one of these paintings or sculptures is worth more than I make in a year.”
He’d be right.
“Thanks for coming with me. I’m not looking forward to this.”
“It’s my job to protect you. You go nowhere without me.”
The butler sto
pped in front of a set of oak double doors, knocking quietly. The gruff voice of her father could be heard through the heavy wood calling for them to come in. Before she could respond the butler was quickly gone, leaving them standing there all alone.
“Smart man,” she muttered as she turned the doorknob, the smell of her father’s cigars bringing back many memories, most of them crappy.
“Peyton Elizabeth, are you coming in or not?”
Ah, the impatient tone of her dear old dad. That’s something she couldn’t hear enough.
“I’m right here, Dad. I hope we’re not interrupting anything.”
“Of course, you’re not. I told you to be here at five for tea so why would I be doing anything else? You’re late. And what do you mean by we?”
Peyton wondered if she was supposed to apologize for being late first or answer his question. She decided to ignore his query.
“The taxi got caught in traffic but we’re here only five minutes late.”
“Your tardiness puts the cook off her timing, Peyton Elizabeth. It’s very selfish to think only of yourself. You should have left earlier to ensure that you were on time.”
I should have run when I had the chance.
“Sorry, Father. We left in plenty of time actually, but as I said the traffic was bad. London and all that.”
Charles grunted, his eyes narrowing as he took in his daughter and her companion. After all these years she still felt like a naughty child in the principal’s office, she could only imagine how Ellis felt at the moment.
One glance at the man next to her showed a different story though. He seemed completely unperturbed by her father’s affectations and general surliness. Maybe because he could out surly anyone anywhere? Or maybe because he truly didn’t give a shit about Charles McMillen. Those people were few and far between but she treasured them as if they were gold.
“Well, come in then and sit down. Your mother might be joining us later. Now didn’t I tell you to come alone? Who is this?”
Kiss Midnight Goodbye (Midnight Blue Beach Book 3) Page 2
