Noble Brit

by P. T. Michelle

  “You’re impossible.” I shake my head, smiling despite the fact he’s completely ignoring me. My father spent so much time working while I grew up that I hardly saw him, so it’s wonderful to see him spending time with Josi. “Have fun at the movies and thank you for taking her.”

  “We will. And don’t worry. Helena will keep me in line. Mostly.”

  Hanging up, I roll my eyes. “He’s incorrigible.”

  Den glances my way just before he turns into BLACK Security’s parking lot. “Sounds like he’s enjoying the perks of being a grandfather.”

  “Josi’s going to be so wired when I get her back.”

  He shuts off the engine, musing, “Or she’ll be completely zonked and barely able to keep her head upright at dinnertime, then go to bed early without a single fuss.”

  He paints such a vivid picture, I can’t help but smile. “Spoken by someone without kiddos, though I like your scenario much better than mine.”

  “You’re correct, I don’t have children,” Den says in a suddenly serious tone. Nodding toward the handful of cars in the parking lot, he continues, “Everyone’s here. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

  He switched from fun banter to all business so quickly, all I can do is nod my agreement and follow him inside.

  After my brother rants at Den, laying into him about ignoring his wishes, going off and doing his own damn thing, and generally being an arrogant ass who refuses to listen to orders, I step right up to my brother, my hands on my hips. “I’m just fine. Thanks for asking, Seb!”

  When his dark brows pull together in a frown, I shake my head. “You’re being over-the-top with this misplaced anger. Den did exactly what was asked of him. He kept an eye on me and kept me safe.” Poking him in the chest, I continue, “And speaking of which, you have a lot of nerve sending someone to track my every movement. Den took his job seriously. He’s a professional. You’re the one who invaded my privacy!”

  “Actually, it was my idea to send Den,” Talia says from the doorway of Seb’s office, notepad tucked against her chest. “But why don’t we focus on the current issue at hand, because it sounds like we’ve got one.” With a smile, she turns, her auburn hair swaying against her back, as she calls over her shoulder, “Come on. While we’re debriefing, there’s plenty of coffee, muffins and bagels in the kitchen. Elijah’s set up in there as well.”

  Talia’s gentle reminder that we’re here because I need their help quickly diffuses my anger. Sighing, I follow her toward their kitchen.

  “Did I hear we’ve got bagels?” Calder comes out of his office, mug in hand, his green gaze already searching for the food.

  Den follows behind me, and I notice that he stayed quiet the entire conversation. I don’t regret defending him. Not one bit.

  After everyone takes a seat at the table with their plates, Den looks at Elijah. “While I explain what brought us here today, please look and see if there are any cameras you can tap into around the hotel’s address I sent you this morning. Other than the couple other businesses around that area, nothing else stood out in my quick assessment, but I want to make sure I didn’t miss any.”

  As Den explains yesterday’s events, I’m thankful that he leaves out the fact he found me at a bar and had to drive me home. When he starts talking about Travis’s findings in the hotel room last night, I jerk my gaze his way. “So he found a drop of blood that was missed?”

  Den nods as Talia asks him, “How does he know it wasn’t old blood?”

  “He doesn’t,” Den says. “Once Elijah gives me the DNA info on Regan Crawford from our database, I’ll send that off to Travis so he can determine if the blood is hers.”

  Calder looks up from taking a bite of his bagel. “Who covers up a suicide with a cleaner team?”

  “I could see a wealthy family doing it to save some perceived reputation.” Seb glances my way, and I know he’s thinking about my mom. “But Regan didn’t have money until she stole it,” he finishes, his expression hardening.

  “Mina, can you tell us what you saw when you walked into the hotel room?” Talia leans forward, setting her arms on the table. “Try to think of every detail you can remember.”

  I describe everything I saw, from the food tray, to Regan in bed not breathing, covered in blood, to the letter opener.

  “Based on the way you’ve described her wounds, it’s like she was trying to punish herself.” Talia taps her pen on her chin. “Suicide by stabbing is a painful choice for sure. She could’ve failed in her attempt and passed out before she accomplished her goal. There are much easier ways to go. Statistically with women, it’s usually pills.” Shaking her head, she continues, “Tell me about the letter opener. Which hand was it close to?”

  “It was her right hand, and before you ask, Regan was right-handed.”

  Writing a few notes, Talia glances up from the notepad. “I know this is hard, Mina, but can you close your eyes and try to see the scene. Does anything else stand out? Anything that doesn’t make sense?”

  “Other than why someone who stole twenty-three million dollars from Blake Industries would be in a pay-by-the-hour hotel?”

  While Calder grunts his agreement with Seb’s comment, I close my eyes and try to see the room again.

  My breathing ramps and my heart races at the horrible memory. Den leans closer, his voice calm near my ear. “Separate your emotions, Mina. We still don’t have proof yet that it was Regan. Try to think of yourself like an observer.”

  When I set my hands on the table and take a calming breath, he continues, “Okay, you’re standing by the bed now. You said you saw blood on the covers and that she had chest wounds. Was there only blood on her upper chest, neck or face? What about her arms and hands?”

  The image of Regan’s dead body flashes in my mind’s eye. I squeeze my eyes tight and shake my head, not wanting to see it. Inhaling deeply, I flatten my hands on the cool table. “There was blood splatter across her chest and along her neck in a few places. There were only a few drops of blood on her face, but there were more spots on her arm.” I pause and tilt my head, recalling how her hands were laying. “Would it matter if her hands were laying palm up on the covers and the letter opener was also pointing upward?”

  “Her hands could’ve fallen palm up,” Seb answers. “But if you’re going to stab yourself in the chest, it would be far easier to hold the weapon with the heel of your hand toward your chest. Then you’d use your other hand to help give you enough force to drive the knife as deep as it can go. In which case, the knife she used would have the blade facing downward as she withdrew it and let go of it.”

  “It’s possible to hold the knife with the heel of your hand away from your chest and stab yourself,” Calder counters. “The knife might not go as deep though.”

  I gasp and my eyes fly open. “Now I know she didn’t kill herself.”

  “You know this how?” Seb says, his attention fully on me.

  “There wasn’t any blood on her hand next to the letter opener. If she had stabbed herself in the chest, either heel toward her chest or away from it, some blood would’ve been on her hand or at the very least her wrist and part of her hand, right?” When Seb and Calder nod, I continue, “There wasn’t enough blood on either of her hands to have stabbed herself. There were only a few smears.”

  “Good catch, Mina,” Talia says, writing down another note.

  Den nods his agreement. “A visual re-walk of the scene is always useful.”

  “You all might want to see this.” Elijah taps on his laptop. “When I put Regan Crawford’s name in the system to do a search…” He pauses and cues up a local news station’s video report on the main screen in the room.

  A dark-haired reporter brushes her hair out of her face as she stands in front of a burned out vehicle, her mic gripped in her hand. “In the early morning, a car barreled into this monument on the edge of Central Park. No one knows if the driver lost control since that wasn’t caught on any cameras, but according to witn
esses, the car burst into flames upon impact. The driver was the only person found in the badly burned vehicle. Police aren’t releasing the person’s identity, but they believe it was a woman. They expect to be able to identify her soon.”

  Seb looks at Elijah. “Are you saying you think that was Regan?”

  Elijah nods toward the screen. “The back of the vehicle wasn’t as badly burned. I was able to make out the license plate. The license plate is registered to Pamela Boyd Crawford. While we were looking for Regan, I kept a record of family and known friends we thought might help her fly under the radar as well as second homes and property owned by family. Pamela is Regan’s mother.”

  “Her mother died a couple years ago,” I say. “If the person in that car turns out to be a woman, Regan didn’t have any living female relatives that I’m aware of.” I glance Den’s way, feeling lightheaded. “Oh God, what if Regan was still alive when I left her in that room?”

  Den folds a big hand over my trembling one resting on the table. “A professional team cleans up loose ends, Mina.” He nods toward the video. “If that turns out to be Regan, this car explosion wasn’t an accident, but a way to cover up how she really died.”

  “Who is going to all this trouble to eliminate Regan?” Talia asks while watching the video of the burned out car that Elijah had put on a loop.

  Seb stares at the screen for several seconds as well, then turns his blue gaze my way. “Until we can confirm that no one identified you visiting Regan at that hotel, you and Josi will stay with us. After a few days, you can go home, but even then, you’ll get a security detail for a while to make sure you’re all clear.”

  “The guy at the desk never even looked up at me when he handed me a key,” I say. “Den confirmed that the hotel doesn’t have cameras at all. Not even in the parking lot.” I look at Elijah. “Can you check out the surrounding businesses to see if I was caught on camera?”

  Elijah nods. “I’ll scout it out to see if there might be other surveillance that I missed.”

  “Thanks Elijah. Until then, I’ll continue to stay with Den.”

  “Absolutely not.” Seb frowns. “You’ll stay with family. I want you and Josi with us.”

  “Josi’s with Dad for at least the weekend, possibly Monday too.”

  “Adam’s babysitting?”

  “Yep.” I nod, enjoying shocking my brother. “And she’s having a grand time. For now, she’ll be safer and happier there. By the way, Helena is back!” I smile, pretending his scowl hasn’t already returned. “You can inform Dad what’s going on so he can up security. Hopefully by Monday, I’ll be able to pick her up at daycare.”

  “Until then, you will be where I can keep you safe,” Seb says.

  “It’s safest for Mina to stay clear of any known Blake properties, including work, until Elijah can confirm no surveillance puts her at that hotel,” Den cuts in, his tone calm and even.

  “I disagree with your assessment about the security of my place.” My brother turns a narrowed gaze Den’s way. “Only family and critical employees know where Talia and I live.”

  Den leans back in his seat, his arms folded. “No one knows where I live.”

  Seb looks at Talia. When she shakes her head, he grunts. “He gets a check from us. How do we not know where he lives?”

  “He gets direct deposit.” Talia gives her husband a half-smile. “I assumed we already had it, but apparently I never asked.”

  Ignoring the tension between the two men, Elijah jumps in. “Since the priority is to make sure there’s no proof Mina was at the hotel, I’ve got the map of the area pulled up on the screen. I’ve printed copies so we can split the work and eliminate them all quickly. It might take a few of us to cover the whole area to look for any cameras I might’ve missed in my online sweep.”

  “I’ll get the print outs on my way back from the bathroom.” I quickly stand and look at my brother. “Den’s place is the most secure location for me right now. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt on my account, and I refuse to put your family at risk.” Before Seb can debate with me anymore, I turn and walk out of the room.

  A couple minutes later, I leave the bathroom and stop at the sound of Talia’s phone ringing in her office. Who calls an office phone on a Saturday? Thinking it might be important, I walk into her office and hit the speaker button.

  “BLACK Security. Talia Blake’s phone.”

  There’s a pause on the other end, then a woman says, “Tell Talia that I have important information she’ll want to know, that you all will want to know, but first she’ll have to help get me moved to another prison.”

  Whoever this convict is…she’s tense, and her voice keeps fading in and out, as if she’s looking over her shoulder. “Who is this?”

  “Is that you, Mina?” As soon as the woman says my name, I realize who she is.

  “Simone?” How is she calling Talia from prison anyway? Do they just let any inmate use a phone whenever they want? Rage fills my body and my hand curls into a fist. “You have a lot of nerve asking for any help! You threatened my brother and Talia’s lives. You threatened their baby’s life. You killed my mother—” My voice cracks. “You’re fucking certifiable!”

  “Depends on the perspective, I suppose,” she says in a derisive tone. “Your family is going to want to know this information, but I need Talia to use the Blake family influence to get me moved out of this prison first, or I might not live long enough to tell her.”

  “You deserve whatever karma comes your way, Simone. You’re a—”

  “I’ve got this, Mina,” Talia cuts me off, her brow furrowed as she walks into her office.

  “It’s so good to hear your voice, Talia,” Simone purrs. “I assumed I’d have to put this request on your voicemail.”

  Talia hovers her finger over the End button. “There is nothing we need from you, Simone.”

  “Where’s the prisoner? She’s not at her assigned job,” a man gruffly calls out in the background.

  “I don’t have a lot of time.” Simone lowers her voice, speaking quickly. “I didn’t want this call recorded. I don’t trust anyone in here. I’m not safe. Get me moved, then I’ll tell you. You should know this. It’s in your best interest—”

  Talia clicks the button, cutting off the call.

  “Why would she call you? And how did she?” I can’t believe I spoke with the woman responsible for the bomb that killed my mother. Listening to her just now, I can see that Simone is a true psychopath. She’s completely self-serving…a narcissist to the core.

  “I don’t know, but we’ll call the warden tomorrow. She should never have been able to make a direct call like that. Calls from prison are usually collect.” Wrapping her arm around my shoulders, Talia squeezes me gently. “Are you okay?”

  The last thing I needed was to be reminded how my mother died. Having it shoved in my face with that call makes me feel as crazy as that psycho Simone. Why can’t I let my mom’s memory go? I straighten my spine. “I’m fine.” Meeting Talia’s concerned green gaze, I nod toward the doorway. “I know Seb means well, but I trust Den. He has my back.” I pause and smirk. “He makes sure I carry my own weight. And don’t you dare tell my brother this, but it’s kind of refreshing for someone to hold me accountable for my own bullshit.”

  Talia chuckles and silently crosses her heart. “I agree with you on Den. He’s an excellent bodyguard and doesn’t mince words. Other than Sebastian, he’s the only other person I’d want guarding you right now. He lives and breathes his duty to protect. Sebastian knows this. With this investigation into Regan’s death, your brother just doesn’t like that he can’t be in two places at once.”

  I wrap my arm around her waist and squeeze her back. “I hope he knows how much I appreciate him and all of you for helping. I really did try to deal with this myself.” I pause and sigh. “Obviously not very successfully.”

  Talia shakes her head. “We’re family, Mina. Never wait to ask for help. We support each other. And
in situations like this, we’re pretty dang good at it. For now, let’s get back in there and help the guys look for places to scout for cameras.” Releasing me, she picks up the map photocopies she laid on the desk and smiles. “I love this wavy hair look on you. It’s gorgeous. Come on, let’s get back in there. I’m sure you’ll be glad to get back to your apartment as fast as possible.”

  As I follow her, my steps slow a little. Am I? I miss Josi like crazy and can’t wait to hug her sweet little body once Den thinks it’s safe to go back home, but I’m not ready to leave the warm bubble of Den’s place. I feel very safe there. With him. The idea of going back home without him around makes me a little sad.

  Chapter Eleven

  Den

  “Calder, Elijah, can you give us a minute?”

  Once the two guys file out of the kitchen, Sebastian narrows his gaze on me. “My sister thinks she knows what’s best. I want you to convince her otherwise.”

  I take a long sip of my coffee. “So you want me to lie to her.”

  “Whatever it takes, but I want Mina and Josi with us. She’s too vulnerable right now. Too much shit has happened in her life. And now, Regan’s murder on the heels of her betrayal just piles on additional stress Mina doesn’t need. Make it happen, Den.”

  I set my coffee mug down. “What exactly are you afraid of? That your sister might actually realize just how capable she is? At some point, you’re going to have to let her stumble, maybe even fall, Sebastian. How else is she going to learn how to pick herself up?”

  “She’s my fucking sister, not yours!” Sebastian barks.

  “You’re right about that, at least,” I say in a droll tone.

  “Stop stonewalling me, you damn infuriating Brit!” he grates, his blue gaze laser sharp.

  I shrug. “You know I’m right. Make sure Josi’s well protected at your father’s estate. I’ll protect Mina.”

  As Sebastian gives me a cold stare, Calder says from the doorway, “May we return to the table now, Dad? I’m still hungry.”