Midnight Of No Return (Midnight Blue Beach Book 2)

by Olivia Jaymes

  When that was done he shoved the phone in his pocket and made his way down the stairs to the back door. Hesitating there, his heart galloping in his chest, he strained to see outside before opening door. If security had seen anything on camera, there might be a welcoming committee for Josh the minute he walked out of the building.

  Swallowing hard, he pushed open the door, the heavy night air hitting him in the face, no cool breeze to dry his damp skin. Cautiously his gaze darted left, right, left, and then right again, straining to see through the darkness.

  No one.

  Josh exhaled slowly in relief, although he wasn’t in the clear yet. He still had to get back to the party without being seen. Pressing against the wall once again, he crept to the corner and paused, listening for any tell-tale sound of a footfall or the rustle of leaves. He was about to dart into the trees when he saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye near the front corner of the building.

  Frozen in place and barely breathing, he waited, his heart pounding in his ears so loudly he was sure it could be heard all the way in the resort ballroom. It seemed like hours before he slowly moved to look around the building. There hadn’t been a sound or any other movement.

  Had he imagined it? Or was it a bird, a deer, or some other nocturnal animal that had caught a whiff of Josh’s human scent? Was he silently freaking out over nothing?

  There wasn’t anyone else around from what he could see. He stood there for a few moments longer but that wasn’t a good idea either. He needed to be on the move and back to the ball.

  Taking a deep breath, he lunged forward, staying as low to the ground as possible until he was under the cover of the thick branches. From there it was easier, staying out of sight and avoiding any people. By the time he reached the door of the ballroom, his body was covered in sweat and his tuxedo stuck to his flesh as the blast of the air conditioning made him shiver. He’d find Willow and signal to her that they needed to leave. Anyone taking one look at him would wonder what he’d been up to.

  Patting his pocket where his phone was safely ensconced, he finally spotted Willow near the bar. Her head was thrown back and she wore a huge smile on her face that Josh instantly knew was fake. Her body was angled so that she was displaying herself at the most advantageous angle for…

  Archer Caldwell.

  A twinge of jealousy ran through Josh but he sharply reminded himself that her smile wasn’t real. She was flirting with the bastard for some unknown reason but it couldn’t be because she had any real feelings toward the man. There had to be an explanation.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, he sent her a text to meet him in the room.

  They needed to look over what he’d found.

  He wouldn’t mind knowing why she was laughing at that creepy guy’s jokes either. Josh didn’t trust Caldwell any farther than he could throw him, and he sure as hell didn’t trust the guy with his Willow.

  His Willow?

  Ah hell. That was another problem, and he had enough of those already.

  Such as whether that shadow had been an actual person.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Willow methodically kicked off her shoes before working on her jewelry. First the earrings, then the necklace, and last the bracelet. She’d done this exact same routine after every party for years. It felt soothing and familiar at a moment that was anything but.

  A scowling Josh was pacing behind her, a bottle of water in one hand. Every three steps or so he’d stop, look at her, and then continue his relentless assault on the marble tiles of the large bathroom. Finally she could delay it no longer.

  “What is your problem?”

  He stopped again, his scowl cutting grooves into his handsome face. “Are you kidding me?”

  She sighed, utterly exhausted after the evening she’d had. “Sadly, no. Now tell me, why are you so upset? You should be celebrating. You succeeded. Now are we going to look at the pictures?”

  It was his turn to sigh. “It may not have been the success that you think. I saw a shadow.”

  “A shadow?” she echoed. “Can you be more specific?”

  “No, I can’t because that’s all I saw. It might have been an animal, or it might have been a person. I really don’t know. The whole operation may not have been as clean as I’d hoped it to be.”

  His mood made sense now. “That explains why you’re so unhappy. Don’t worry about it. You were right that this was the perfect night to do this. All the men are dressed the same. If anyone says anything we deny it. Simple.”

  He shrugged off his jacket and tie, draping them over the edge of the bathtub. “Honey, that is not why I’m upset.”

  She was tired of playing this game. She wanted to see the photos but dammit, she wasn’t going to take his crap to do it. At this point, she’d rather call Ellis, the grouchy cop.

  “Well, get over it,” she snapped. “I’m going to change. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She strode into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her in a most satisfying way. Five minutes later the gown was back in its garment bag and she was wearing sleep shorts and a tank top, contemplating whether it was safe to go back into the bathroom.

  What the hell. She’d dealt with ornery men.

  Padding on sock-covered feet, she entered the bathroom only to see him knocking back a shot of whiskey, the bottle sitting on the vanity. That should improve his damn mood but she was getting tired of having their meetings in the commode.

  “I wouldn’t mind one of those.”

  He poured her a measure of liquor into a highball glass and raised his own in salute.

  “Here’s mud in your eye.”

  She lifted her drink and smirked. “Here’s to your health, which is going to be suffering if you don’t tell me what crawled up your ass and died.”

  Slamming the glass down on the counter, Josh took a step toward her. A muscle worked in his jaw and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “You let him put his hands on you.”

  At first, she had no freakin’ clue what he was talking about but then a light came on. Archer Caldwell. Jesus frog in a pond, that’s what all this was about? She’d been saving his sorry ass.

  “He intended to go to The Clubhouse, the one place in the world I couldn’t allow him to go. So yes, I let him touch me. I danced with him and I let him flirt with me. He only touched my arm and my back. It’s nothing to get upset about. I did what I had to do.”

  So help me God, if he asks if I enjoyed it, I’m going to knee him in the balls.

  “I didn’t like it,” Josh stated, snapping his teeth together. “I don’t like him and I don’t like him touching you.”

  Men and their egos. “I wasn’t all that fond of it myself but what was the alternative? Let him find you pilfering the files? Would you rather I’d have done that? Because next time your ass is in trouble I’ll do nothing if that’s what you’d prefer.”

  Groaning, he scraped his fingers through hair that was already standing on end. “You make me crazy, woman. I think you do it on purpose.”

  “I don’t even know what I’m doing. You’re pissy about something so trivial I can’t even muster the energy to defend myself. We should be talking about the files, not this petty bullshit.”

  But it wasn’t petty to him. She could see it in the tense line of his shoulders.

  Josh was jealous, and he had no reason to be. Yes, he was being unreasonable but her denial of any feelings had pushed him into this corner. She’d been the architect of this little mini-tirade. After all, hadn’t she been a jealous shrew this morning?

  “Fine,” he said flatly. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  For one brief moment, she almost stopped him and insisted that they clear the air. But that was going to bring up a boatload of other issues that she wasn’t quite ready to talk about yet. He deserved the truth after all he’d put himself through for her. Could she muster the courage and tell him her story? Tell him why she was pushing him away?

&
nbsp; Because she did care for him. Too much. He was the kind of man she’d dreamed about when she was younger. Strong, steady, smart, and handsome. He made her laugh and he made her think. He challenged her on a daily basis but not in a bullying manner. He was the knight in shining armor she’d fantasized about all those nights she’d lain awake in her bed, huddled under the covers, scared and alone.

  His phone on the vanity lit up and buzzed, Ellis’s face appearing on the screen. Josh reached for it and swiped at the screen, looking relieved at the distraction.

  “Talk to me, bro. What did you see?”

  Of course. Ellis had received the files even before Josh had left The Clubhouse.

  “There wasn’t much that was new, but there were a few interesting items. The program all three men volunteered for was called the Arsenal. There are no details at all about it but they all three signed waivers that were, between you and me, something I’d never in a million years place my John Hancock on. The waiver basically said Evandria wasn’t responsible for any injury, illness, or death that may result from their assignments for Arsenal.” Ellis paused. “Here’s the fascinating part. The waiver actually recommends that members of the Arsenal never marry or have children as emotional ties complicate their assignments.”

  “What the fuck?” Josh exploded. “What philanthropic group needs an Arsenal? Are they some sort of spy?”

  That waiver explained why Alex hadn’t wanted children. Maybe it explained his alcohol and drug use too. Had he been so conflicted he’d self-medicated to ease his conscience about marrying her?

  Her hand shaking, Willow steadied herself, her fingers curling around the edge of the bathtub. She needed her friends and she needed them soon. Josh was wonderful but there were things only Bailey and Peyton would understand.

  “When are you coming down here?” she heard herself asking. “When can you travel?”

  “Good question and we have an answer. Peyton got the all clear today from the doctor so we’re going to head down tomorrow along with Bailey and Chase.”

  Good. That was good.

  “I’ll send the jet.”

  “You don’t have–”

  “I’ll send it,” she interrupted. “Peyton shouldn’t have to deal with the hassle of flying commercial. This will be easier for her and she’ll be home more quickly. I’ll text you once I have the details.”

  Willow knew what buttons to push on the police officer. When Peyton’s well-being was mentioned he immediately gave in, agreeing that his charge shouldn’t have to worry about a busy airport and crowds.

  “Is there anything else?” Josh asked. “We’ll look at the files ourselves of course.”

  “Not that I noticed but we’ll look at them again,” a voice piped up in the background. It sounded like Bailey. “Wait, Peyton found something. The department head for the Arsenal? Nigel Holmwood.”

  His name kept coming up and that couldn’t be a coincidence either.

  “We have to find him. Did you have any luck with the addresses that we found in the sculpture?”

  “The address for Holmwood doesn’t exist from what I can find,” the cop sighed. “That street isn’t in that town. As for the other two, we can’t find any record of the people or the addresses. It was like they were completely made up.”

  Josh frowned. “Do you think it’s some kind of code maybe?”

  “I think we’re all paranoid as hell,” Ellis replied. “It could be a code. It could be a mistake. Hold on. Peyton says that she’s good at puzzles. She’ll take a look at the names and addresses.”

  “We have to find Nigel,” Willow pressed. “Has Bailey had any luck?”

  “It’s like he’s fallen off the face of the earth. She’s even tried his friends. They said he’s on holiday in Greece but they don’t know exactly where or what hotel he’s checked into. I’ve got a buddy at Homeland Security who said he’d check into Holmwood’s passport and see if he’s left the UK.”

  Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “We have to find out what the Arsenal program is.”

  Willow shrugged. “We’re horseback riding with Archer in the morning. We could just ask.”

  It was a horrible idea but she was out of good ones.

  “Sure, we could also end up dead,” Josh retorted. “They gave you those made-up files for a reason. Arsenal must be a big secret. Big enough to keep it from you.”

  “Whatever it is, I think it got Alex killed,” she said quietly. “I think it’s the reason all three of them are dead.”

  Despite the tension between Josh and herself, he placed a comforting arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his warm body. Deliberately ignoring the risks of her action, she allowed herself to lean against him, letting him be the strong one. She was so goddamn tired of chasing ghosts.

  “I’ll ask my Homeland Security friend if he’s ever heard of anything called Arsenal. I doubt it but you never know. The FBI keeps track of all sorts of weird shit.” Willow heard Peyton’s voice in the background, soft and urgent. “Uh, Chase just got a call. Stephen Baxter is dead.”

  He’d said he didn’t kill Alex or his friends.

  Would they ever know the truth?

  Chapter Eighteen

  The illuminated red numbers on the bedside clock read two-oh-three. Willow had been awake, tossing and turning for hours, and she couldn’t lie there any longer. She had allergy pills in her purse that would knock her out and she was desperate enough to take them even knowing how drowsy she might be in the morning.

  Throwing back the covers, she slid her feet into a pair of slippers and didn’t bother with a robe. She would take the medication and go right back to bed. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long to kick in. Her purse was on a chair in the bedroom so it took no time at all to dig out the tablets but a glance around the room told her she’d forgotten to bring in a bottle of water when she went to bed. She’d have to grab one from the wet bar.

  Not wanting to wake Josh who was camped out on the couch, she carefully opened the door, the hinges squeaking slightly. During the day she wouldn’t even have noticed, but at night with nothing but silence surrounding them it sounded like a jet plane landing in the living room.

  “Shit,” she muttered under her breath and froze, hoping Josh hadn’t heard anything. Her hopes were dashed, however, when his head popped up from the sofa. He didn’t look like she’d woken him at all. There was no yawning, no sleepy-face, no rubbing sleep from his eyes. Josh had been awake.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, standing quickly, his entire body tense. “Do you need something?”

  It took every ounce of willpower she had not to answer that she needed him. More than she’d ever thought possible. Instead she held out her hand, the pills nestled in her palm.

  “Water. I can’t sleep. I guess you couldn’t either.”

  He shrugged as she rounded the wet bar and opened the small refrigerator. “It’s my job to keep you safe. Sleeping heavily isn’t the best way to do that. I caught a nap earlier but I set my alarm so I get up every hour or so and walk around, make sure everything is still secure.”

  Willow had no idea he’d been doing that. Her mouth hung open in shock that he would forego his own health and comfort for her. No one ever had before. Not someone she wasn’t paying.

  “That’s what they do to torture prisoners when they want them to talk. Josh, get some sleep, for Christ’s sake.”

  Shaking his head, he paced to the windows, pushing back the drapes and looking out. “I can’t. After what I did tonight, I’m paranoid as hell. What if they saw me? What if they came here in the middle of the night and took you away from me? What if I wasn’t there when you needed me?”

  Emotion so strong welled up inside of her at his words. So simple, yet so powerful for someone like her. She’d been playing it safe for so long, keeping her armor in place as protection. She’d told herself it was to protect others but that was a lie. She was protecting herself. This man had blown her defenses to smithereens and he didn�
��t have a clue. He’d affected her more in the few weeks she’d known him than anyone else she’d ever met.

  “Then you’d be like everyone else in my life. I wouldn’t say that I’ve ever inspired protective feelings in a man before.”

  He strode over to the bar and she caught a whiff of his body wash, sharp and tangy. After his shower, he’d put on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt that looked as if it had been washed several hundred times. Her arms itched to curl around his muscular frame and trace his spine with her fingers. She wanted to live in his arms, luxuriate in his strength. But that little girl who had always been disappointed kept her standing exactly where she was.

  Pouring himself a whiskey, he didn’t acknowledge her statement right away. He took a sip before turning back to her.

  “Careful, honey, you might reveal something personal about yourself. We can’t have that, now can we?”

  The bitterness in his tone was easily recognizable. He was frustrated with her but no more than she was with herself. Her heart was pushing her to tell him, talk to him. Her head? That was another matter entirely.

  “Josh,” she began tentatively. “I just–”

  “Don’t,” he cut in harshly. “Don’t tell me how much you like me or that you care or, God fucking forbid, tell me you’re grateful. I don’t want you to trust me because you think you have to, I want you to trust me because you want to.”

  Just once in her adult life she wanted to trust someone and not regret it later.

  She wanted to trust him.

  Settling on the couch, she reached out a hand to him so that he was sitting next to her. “Will you tell me about your childhood? Your family? Growing up?”

  He frowned but didn’t say no. “What’s this all about, honey?”

  Exhaling slowly, she shook her head. “Can you humor me? Please? Tell me what Josh’s family life was like.”

  He looked confused but he nodded in agreement. “There’s not much to tell. I’m one of six kids, two older siblings and three younger ones. Three boys and three girls. We used to get teased we were like ‘The Brady Bunch’.”