Heath rolled his eyes. “Everyone who reads her Twitter feed. I’ve advised her to deactivate it, but she insists it’s one of the ways she keeps in touch with fans and friends.”
“She put on her Twitter that she was coming to Dallas?”
“Not precisely. Look.” Heath pulled out his phone and launched Twitter. “This is her feed for the last week. Four days ago, she posted a picture of her suitcase.”
Axel read the caption that said she was excited she’d be visiting her aunt soon. “Shit.”
Heath scrolled and came to another picture of a plate of Mexican food posted two days ago. The accompanying verbiage indicated she was so happy to be getting some of the cheesy-gooey goodness, which was hard to find in London. The picture seemed harmless enough, but the menu with the restaurant’s name and location stood up on the table in the background.
He looked up at the other man with accusing eyes. “Why aren’t you preventing her from posting this?”
“I’ve tried.” Heath winced. “I can suggest all the reasons it’s a terrible idea, but I’m not her father, and he hasn’t seen fit to forbid her to use social media. He claims it’s good for her career, that she needs to be visible.”
“Not if it’s going to get her killed,” Axel grumbled.
“That’s where I come in. I’m simply supposed to be more vigilant, you see,” he said wryly. “Perhaps after this incident, he’ll grasp the scope of the danger.”
Heath scrolled again, revealing the next post. No picture, just one hundred forty characters or less explaining that she was curled up in her hotel room and looking forward to receiving some new personal effects of her mother’s.
When he would have scrolled again, Axel grabbed Heath’s wrist. “Wait. Read that again.”
The other man did and shrugged.
“Does she often post things about her mother?” Axel asked.
“No . . . but, of course, it tends to cross her mind more as we approach May twelfth.”
The anniversary of her mother’s death. Less than a week away. “That’s natural. I’m wondering if that has anything to do with the reason Mystery has been targeted. After all, it’s an unsolved case.”
“I’ve looked into it extensively. Personally, I think Julia Mullins was intentionally pushed off that mountain. Perhaps I’m wrong, but—”
“I don’t think so. I’ve thought it, too,” Axel said. “Just like I’ve considered that Mystery’s kidnapping might have something to do with her mother’s murder. I might be wrong, and proving it would be a long shot, but no other violence has befallen the family. I know Mullins believes the abduction had something to do with his celebrity, but why didn’t someone send him a ransom demand when Mystery was held captive?”
“Or flash this picture to the world to show off what they’d done if they were so bloody proud of their ‘accomplishment’?”
Axel nodded. “Whoever took her prisoner has been damn quiet these last six and a half years.”
“Precisely.”
“So why would this douche suddenly start making noise again? What else is on her Twitter feed?”
“Very little.” Heath scrolled and paused over another picture, this one of the Dallas skyline, probably from her hotel room. She’d posted it this morning. “Bloody hell. I hadn’t seen this yet.”
“She might as well draw everyone a fucking map and tell them how to find her.” Axel shook his head.
“If I weren’t a gentleman, the things I would say and do . . .”
Yep. She needed a damn good spanking, and when she wasn’t so upset and scared, Axel intended to give it to her and make it clear that, until they’d solved this shit, her social media was off limits.
“Assuming the police will find nothing about who broke into her room—which is what I’m anticipating—what are our next steps?” Heath asked.
Axel didn’t really like his attention to Mystery, but he also couldn’t disagree with the way the man thought. “She can’t stay here tonight.”
“Of course not. Everyone knows where to find her.”
“I’ll bet you haven’t seen all the shit on TMZ yet, either.”
Heath just closed his eyes and shook his head. “Well, pardon my French, but what a fucking debacle. And if I can’t keep her safe, her father will have my balls.”
“Mullins is intense, for sure, especially where his daughter is concerned. I know where we can hide Mystery for a few days while we figure out what’s going on and how to stop it.”
“But Aunt Gail is expecting me tomorrow,” Mystery cut in, clearly finished talking to her father. “She’s leaving on that mission trip to Indonesia on Saturday. I can’t miss seeing her. I’d like that stuff my mom left for me, and I don’t know when I’ll be back in the country.”
“I don’t think a jaunt to Kansas wise,” Heath began. “You can visit her when she returns from Indonesia. But go home now.”
Axel snorted. “He’s being polite. At this point, you’ve told everyone—including the people coming after you—that you’re planning to visit her. Go the fuck back to London.”
“You’re assuming these people read my Twitter feed,” she protested. “I only have fifty thousand followers. Maybe whoever is threatening me found out some other—”
“That’s fifty thousand potential whack-jobs you’re telling what you’re doing and where you’re going. Have you put this information anywhere else?”
“Everything I post to Twitter loads to Facebook. I also have an Instagram account. I don’t use it much.”
“Shuttle them all,” Axel demanded.
Instantly, she balked. “I have a book releasing in six weeks. I use my social media accounts to promote—”
“You won’t be doing that if you’re not alive to use them, Mystery.”
“Wait. Perhaps we shouldn’t change her patterns so abruptly,” Heath suggested. “If she suddenly closes everything down, not only do we alert this bastard that we’re onto him, but we also lose our means of communicating any message that might help us.”
Axel opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. “You’re right. We should be using the accounts to misdirect this asshole and take the heat off her.”
“Precisely.” Heath nodded.
“I like that idea,” Axel admitted. “Post now that you’ve had a change of plans and you’ll be returning to London tomorrow.”
“But my aunt—”
“You can call her and tell her privately that you’re still coming.” He held up a hand to ward off her protest. “But to the rest of the world, you’ve had a great if short visit, but you need to get home.”
Heath shook his head. “People will see her at the airport tomorrow if she boards a flight not heading to London. And it’s not as if she’s going to New York or Chicago, where she might be catching a flight to the UK from there.”
“Good point. Can you cancel her Kansas City flight?” Axel asked the other man.
“On it.” He took his phone back from Axel’s grip.
Mystery put a hand on her hip. “So how are we getting to Aunt Gail’s?”
“Normally, I’d say we could drive, but it’s not as if you can stop at McDonald’s for a restroom break and lunch without potentially being spotted,” Axel pointed out.
Heath muted his phone. “Private charter.”
Axel pointed at the Brit. “That’s the ticket.”
“I’ll find one for the two of us as soon as I finish with the airline,” her bodyguard supplied.
“I know who can arrange one.” Thorpe could get anything handled. And as far as Axel was concerned, the smaller the paper trail that led back to Mystery, the better. “And all three of us are going.”
“No.” Heath looked decidedly pissed off at that suggestion.
Too fucking bad.
Axel crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve evaded this son of a bitch before. I know more about how he thinks. If we play this right, I might even be able to figure out what he wants. So I should stay with her.”