Kiss Midnight Goodbye (Midnight Blue Beach Book 3)

by Olivia Jaymes

  That was the most emotion Buffy had shown in years. But then Greg’s actions also reflected on the McMillen family as well. That wouldn’t go over well with Buffy and Charles.

  “Maybe,” Peyton conceded. “Men like that don’t grow on trees from my experience.”

  Although Ellis had integrity in spades. But the timing sucked. Now wasn’t the most opportune moment to start a romance.

  Standing, her mother beckoned to Peyton instead of grilling her about Ellis. “Come with me, please.”

  Following, they went into the house and crossed over into a small sitting room that clearly belonged to her mother. In the corner was a small, old-fashioned roll top desk. Buffy opened it and retrieved a set of keys and an envelope before handing both items to Peyton.

  “I want you to take these.” Buffy pressed the keys into Peyton’s palm, the metal of the keychain cold against her skin. “They belong to an old family house that I inherited from my late uncle, Earnest Gable. Even your father doesn’t know about this place. The house isn’t fancy but it is unknown and if you need a place to hide, it might fit the bill.”

  Staring at the keys, Peyton wasn’t sure she was hearing her mother correctly. “You believe me, then? That Evandria is trying to kill me, or at least scare me?”

  “If you believe it, then I believe it,” her mother repeated. “I may not be good at reading bedtime stories but I can and will protect my only daughter. But I will say this—whatever it is you’re seeking by finding out who had Greg killed, assuming that you’re right and it was murder, it won’t change anything. He’ll still be gone and you’ll have to come to grips with the secrets that you’ve unearthed. For all you know, there might be more to come and they could be much worse. Don’t let him control your life all these years later. Maybe it’s time to just move on and put this behind you.”

  Every cell in Peyton’s body rejected her mother’s words. “Isn’t the truth important? Wouldn’t you want to know?”

  “Happiness doesn’t hinge on the truth, Peyton. Some of the happiest people I know don’t have a clue what’s going on around them but they don’t care. They’re happy and that’s enough. You may find that you can’t have it both ways. Uncovering the truth may only cause heartache and sadness.”

  “I’ve thought about that but I’m willing to take that risk.”

  Buffy gave her a shrewd look. “And there’s no way I can talk you out of this?”

  Peyton shook her head. “No, I’m doing it.”

  “Then definitely take the keys and the house deed. You might find you need it. Knowing what little I do about Evandria, if what you say is true, they’re not going to take you digging into their affairs well.” Her mother’s gaze moved from Peyton to the doorway. “And there’s your young man. It looks like he’s ready to go. Come see us again before we leave.”

  Ellis was standing in the doorway looking way past ready to leave and wearing an expression that she’d come to recognize.

  He wanted to talk to her.

  “Thank you again, Mother.” Her fingers tightened on the keys and envelope. “But you’re right, we have another engagement.”

  They didn’t but the excuse of a social commitment was something that Buffy understood. Peyton linked her arm with Ellis’s as they exited the house and walked down the pavement to look for a taxi. She couldn’t wait any longer now that they were out of hearing distance of the house.

  “You want to tell me something. I can see it in your face. Did you overhear something my father said after I left his study?”

  Grinning wickedly, Ellis hailed a taxi and bundled her inside before he answered. “I didn’t hear a thing, princess, but I found out all I needed to before I even left you two alone.”

  He was enjoying this. Dragging it out.

  “Spill it,” she commanded, her patience short after a visit with her parents. She was never in the best of moods after an afternoon spent in their company. “Don’t make me knee you in the balls, mister.”

  Laughing, Ellis crossed his legs. “Ouch. You’re a mean one when you’re around mummy and daddy. Did you see the photographs in your father’s study? The ones on the shelves behind him?”

  Ellis was a well-trained cop. He saw everything, even the smallest details.

  “No, I didn’t even notice they were there.”

  “That’s because you were looking at your father not at his surroundings, while I was doing the opposite. But there was a photo just behind your father in a silver frame. He was in a golf foursome – himself, Holmwood, Caldwell, and some man I didn’t recognize. Daddy dearest definitely knows Archer and Nigel. I’m not shocked since your father’s been an officer of the organization.”

  Charles McMillen had lied.

  That wasn’t a shock either.

  Chapter Five

  Back at the hotel, Peyton was working on the names and addresses Willow had found in her husband’s statue while Ellis studied the latest information Chase and Josh had sent over regarding Evandria. While there had been no official announcement regarding Archer Caldwell being replaced as president of the organization, there did appear to be some harried movement among the members. No one was answering their calls to meet and the security around The Retreat had increased to black-helicopter-paranoia levels. More cameras, more guards, and more scrutiny. Josh and Willow had returned to check out what might be happening in the area and had seen it for themselves. The Retreat was on lockdown.

  Ellis assumed that was where Holmwood had taken Caldwell so it made sense. They had a multiple murderer on their hands who had nothing to lose. Keeping the residents of the area safe would be a priority.

  Keeping Peyton safe was Ellis’s priority. She’d shown him the keys and deed to her mother’s secret home near Midnight Blue Beach. He’d sent on the information to Josh and Chase so they could check it out but it might be a good place for all of them to lie low for awhile when he and Peyton returned to the States. He wasn’t sure what had prompted her mother to tell them about it but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth when one trotted into the living room. The safer he could keep the women, the more freedom they had to investigate.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Peyton muttered, tapping the pen on the paper in front of her. She was sitting at the little desk in the corner of the suite, leaning her head on her hand.

  “Problem?”

  Twisting in the chair, she sent him a glare but the anger wasn’t directed at him. If she had access to matches she would have set that paper on fire.

  “Nothing is working,” she huffed, her shoulders slumping. “I’m getting frustrated.”

  He put down his phone and crossed the short distance to where she was sitting. “There might not be any code. You’ve made a huge assumption here that these names and addresses have some other meaning than the obvious. If you can’t figure it out, it just might be because there is nothing there.”

  “There has to be something,” she argued, frustration wrinkling her forehead. “It’s too weird that the addresses don’t even exist and yet this piece of paper was put in a safe place. Why would Alex Vaughn keep a list of names and addresses hidden if they weren’t important? If I had a list that was wrong, I’d throw it in the trash. There has to be more to this.”

  He couldn’t argue the logic but this case had been so strange from the get-go he couldn’t rule anything out. “Let’s think about this then. What have you tried so far?”

  Letting out a slow breath, she moved the paper so he could easily see it, pointing out the first name and address combination. “I tried the obvious ones, of course. Reversing the letters? That was obviously a bust. Then I tried every second letter or every third letter and so on. No luck. Then I tried the old letters-for-numbers in forward and reverse but that didn’t work either. So now I’m working on a cipher text but it’s going to take some time. I have to look at the letter substitution patterns one at a time. Sometimes they’re easy, like the most common letter is usually ‘E’ so I would look for
the most common letter in these addresses and use that as the substitute, but sometimes they even change them mid-cipher. It’s enough to give you a headache and I already have one of those.”

  Ellis was impressed. “How did you learn this? It’s not something I would expect the daughter of a billionaire to know.”

  A brow arched and she grinned. “Are you kidding? I used my very own cipher text to communicate with my secret high school boyfriend. The school I went to was beyond strict and if they’d found those letters I would have been in big trouble. This way they just thought it was gibberish. I told them I was practicing my handwriting. They bought it.”

  She was full of surprises and it only made him more attracted to her. How she had survived so well with parents like Buffy and Charles McMillen he’d never know. “I bow down to the master. If that doesn’t work out, what else is there?”

  “Google,” she answered with no hesitation. “When I said I was good at puzzles, I meant it, but this might be beyond what a teenage girl at a strict boarding school would know.”

  “I read once that during the Cold War the CIA would use their shoelaces to communicate messages. Different tying methods meant different things.”

  She glanced down at her bare feet. “Is that supposed to help or is that just one of your handy-dandy factoids?”

  Chuckling, Ellis eased the pen from her fingers and set it on the desk, then wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her to her feet. She needed to take a break and she must have agreed because she didn’t fight him.

  “A little of both. I’m just saying that whatever the code is, it may be something so wacky no one could figure it out. Now it’s time to leave it alone for awhile. You said your head hurts and that means you need to rest. Do you want one of your pills?”

  She hated taking them, saying they made her sleepy but he couldn’t stand to see her in any pain. “No, I’d rather just take some ibuprofen. I don’t want to fall asleep yet.”

  He headed for the bathroom, giving her a nudge toward the couch he’d just vacated. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll go get them.”

  “You don’t have–”

  “I know,” he said, not letting her finish. What she didn’t seem to understand was that he liked taking care of her. It must have happened very little in her adult life because she was incredibly grateful for every tiny thing he did. “But you need to rest.”

  He came back out with two tablets and she quickly downed them with the last of her bottle of water, while he settled at the end of the couch, her feet in his lap. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I also ordered dinner so it should be here any minute. I thought you might have worked up an appetite while wrestling with those addresses.”

  “You’re going to make someone a good wife one day,” she giggled, the sound making his heart skip a beat in his chest. This woman didn’t have any idea how she affected him.

  Placing his hand over his heart, he sighed. “That’s all I’ve ever dreamed about.”

  Reaching out with one shapely leg encased in sweatpants, she nudged his shoulder. “You think you’re so funny.”

  “I know I’m funny. There’s a difference. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? I’ve got them all sold on this irritable detective persona. They think that’s what I’m really like.”

  Peyton rolled her lovely blue eyes. “Trust me. That’s what you’re really like. Most of the time. The rest of the time you’re pretty human.” She leaned forward so they were almost nose to nose. “But you are no comedian. Give it up, Detective.”

  “I just don’t have much patience with stupid people.”

  Or people in his way to getting something done. People who only thought about themselves. People who parked poorly at the grocery store. People who asked him to fill out some kind of form. People who drove after drinking. People who get to the order box at a drive thru and still don’t know what they want despite waiting in line for ten minutes.

  “Just stupid people?” Peyton snorted. “Are you sure it’s not more?”

  Clearing his throat, he went back to the messages on his phone. “Just stupid people.”

  It was a small lie but she already knew the truth. They’d spent virtually every hour of the day together since she’d been in the hospital. She just didn’t remember some of it.

  “If you say so.”

  It was the tone in her voice that didn’t sound quite right. Putting down his phone, he gave her all of his attention.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You don’t like stupid people.”

  She was going somewhere with this but damned if he knew the destination.

  “Can you cut to the chase? What’s on that mind of yours?”

  Sitting up, she pulled her feet in and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “No, I don’t, but I’m guessing that you think you might be. Am I right?”

  “You’ve met my parents and my brother. You know some of my marriage to Greg. It’s enough to make a judgment.”

  Ahh, that word. Judgment. She wanted to beat herself up and she wanted him to help. Not going to happen. “I’m a cop, not a judge. I gather the evidence and let it fall where it may.”

  “But you have opinions,” she persisted. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  Far from it, actually. “I think you’re a survivor and you should be proud of yourself. I think the work that you, Bailey, and Willow have done is nothing short of phenomenal. I think you were born into the wrong family and had lousy fucking parents. I think your brother is a jerk and I think your late husband was a complete and total asshole who thought about nothing but himself. I also think you’ve made some bad decisions, starting with marrying Greg and then staying with him when he proved to be a dirtbag. But none of that makes you stupid.”

  Tears glittered in his eyes and now he felt like a shmuck. The last thing he’d wanted to do was upset her. She was supposed to be resting.

  “Sometimes I feel like an idiot,” she whispered, her face half-buried in her folded arms. “I think about the might-have-beens.”

  Ellis wasn’t a man that allowed himself to think about regrets. He had them of course, all human beings did, but if he gave them too much space in his head then they crowded out all the good things about the here and now.

  “Like what?” he asked, turning on the cushion so they were facing each other, their toes inches apart.

  “If I hadn’t married Greg I might have made photography my career.”

  “Your parents would have hated that.”

  Her shoulders shook with laughter. “They would have. I never would have heard the end of it. I guess I wasn’t strong enough to go against the tide.”

  The last fucking thing Ellis wanted to talk about was her douchebag husband but it looked like she was wallowing in doubts and maybes.

  “Did you love the bastard?”

  He thought she’d answer right away but she took her time before speaking. “Yes and no. I loved what he represented to me but when I look back I think the answer is no. I didn’t love Greg.”

  Something shifted in Ellis’s chest, tightening his rib cage and making it hard to catch his breath. “What did he represent?”

  She smiled. “Freedom. Freedom from my parents.”

  “Did it work?”

  Nodding, she wiped at her eye where a tear was beginning to fall. “To an extent, it did. But then they pushed a new agenda on me.”

  “Grandchildren?”

  The thought of Peyton having a baby for that clown only made Ellis more irritable. Greg hadn’t deserved her loyalty and care.

  Her brows shot up. “Funny, they never bugged me about that. I always assumed it was because deep down they didn’t really like children. No, they wanted me to work for one of the family businesses. They were constantly harping about that.”

  Ellis hated to burst her bubble but that seemed to be his designated job these days.

&n
bsp; “Or they knew he was in Arsenal and wasn’t even supposed to get married in the first place.”

  “Or that,” she agreed. “We know that my father lied about Nigel and Archer. Everybody lied, Ellis. Even me.”

  He scooted closer and reached for her hands, so cold to the touch, and warmed them up with his own. “What did you lie about, princess?”

  “That I was happy.”

  “Maybe when this is all over and you’re not in danger anymore, you can be happy then.”

  Her gaze was warm and soft, and he had to resist the urge to lean forward and kiss her. She’d never invited that sort of attention from him.

  “I’m happy now,” she said, her voice stronger than before. “I’m not waiting to be anything anymore. Finally, I’m standing on my own two feet and getting the truth. That makes me happy. It’s the lying that made me miserable.”

  He’d do whatever he could to make sure she stayed that way.

  Chapter Six

  They looked like a happy family. The mother appeared to be a few years younger than Peyton, although guessing ages wasn’t an exact science. Tall and willowy with auburn hair and pale skin, the woman was the physical opposite of Peyton. When choosing a second wife, Greg must have gone for a different model.

  Ellis glanced down at the paper from the Evandria file. “Her name is Amelia and she’s thirty-two years old. The kids, Noelle and Andrew, are nine and seven.”

  That would have made Amelia incredibly young and naive when she’d met Greg. Peyton felt a surge of sympathy for the other woman. Amelia had trusted Greg and he’d left her with two children and little else.

  Hidden behind a tree where the trio couldn’t see them, Peyton studied the children for any sign of Greg. From all appearances, they took after their mother in coloring but she thought she could see their father’s eyes and chin on the diminutive faces.