The minute seemed to take ten years before Mullins clicked back over and let out a panicked groan. “Heath isn’t answering me, either. You think something is wrong?”
Axel could almost guarantee it was. “Tell me whose secret you’re keeping or what you’re protecting. It may help me save her life. Because I can’t think of any other way to help her right now.”
Mullins gave him a shaky sigh. “All right, but I kept this to myself purely for Mystery’s protection. I never wanted anything to touch her, and I never dreamed that it could become her worst nightmare. What I’m about to say can never leak out to the public. And it can’t ever reach her ears.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening . . .”
* * *
IN the passenger’s seat, Mystery curled her knees against her chest, heels clinging to the corner of the seat, and lowered her head. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry. Her aunt would only tell her to rely on God. Maybe that would be a comfort to the woman, but Mystery couldn’t manage spiritual just now. And she had no right to ask Heath for anything after she’d tried to use him to make Axel feel as wretched as she did.
What had she been thinking? Nothing, clearly. She’d let emotion take over like an idiot. Normally, she’d scoff at people who couldn’t keep their crap together. In fact, Mystery couldn’t remember a time since that spat with Axel at the hotel in the ghost town when she’d been worked up enough to lose all sense of logic. But now . . . she knew how being completely shocked and emotional screwed with her head.
She’d lashed out at Axel for hurting her, and it definitely hadn’t been her proudest moment. In fact, she’d really like to forget it, go back to the wee hours of the morning when she’d been cozied up with Axel in bed, feeling so loved and secure. She knew that unleashing her temper, as she’d done after Axel’s rejection in Cerro Gordo, solved nothing. She also knew how much running out would hurt Axel. But she’d done it anyway. Now she had to face that fact, like life, head-on.
“I’m sorry, Heath.”
He nodded slowly, then glanced into the rearview mirror at her aunt in the backseat. “Where to?”
“Drive down this road about two miles. Three blocks up, take a left. It’s the second building on your right.”
“Very good,” he said to her aunt as they stopped at a light. He stared straight ahead, as if he refused to look at Mystery.
She winced. She’d hurt his feelings. Somehow, she had to make amends.
“Kissing you in that situation was wrong and unfair,” she whispered. “If I could take it back, I—”
“But you can’t,” he cut in softly. “And you would never have kissed me voluntarily if you hadn’t been trying to hurt Axel.”
Mystery wanted to say something that would soothe Heath, but he wasn’t wrong, and lying would only make matters worse. “I’m sorry.”
“This trip has made me realize that I’ve been an idiot. When your father first hired me, you were a lovely girl, and I was a grieving widower. I didn’t see you as a woman. But as I got to know you, I enjoyed your company, your wit and smile, the way you slowly came out of your shell. I liked that you needed me, confided in me, persuaded me to emerge from my self-imposed exile. I didn’t realize until I saw you with Axel how completely I’d fallen in love with you. I’ve been blind all this time. Now I can’t unsee what’s in my heart.”
Mystery peered over at him, eyes willing and wishing she could comfort him, even as she acknowledged that she was the problem. And that made her feel awful. “I care for you. I really do.”
“But today proved that I’ll never be more than a substitute for you. Even if you never see Axel again, you love him. I could probably take advantage of your vulnerability and coax you into some sort of relationship for a few days, a few weeks, maybe even forever. But you’ll never truly be mine, and I must break away from this unhealthy connection and start living again.”
A bolt of shock struck her square in the chest. “What are you saying?”
“As soon as I have you back safely in London and delivered to your father, I’ll be resigning. If he’s interested in hiring another bodyguard for you, I can recommend several who would be excellent. But I cannot stay.”
She didn’t deserve to indulge in a pity party, but she couldn’t seem to not make herself the guest of honor. How had she managed to screw up everything so catastrophically so quickly? How did she pull herself out of it?
Suck it up, cupcake. Tomorrow, she could be on her way back to the UK. She’d sort through whatever her mom had left her, along with the mess she’d made of her life, and figure out what to do next. Right now, she just had to get through this meeting.
Mystery sniffled and rifled in the glove box for some tissues, using them to dab her eyes. “I understand. I never meant to hurt you.”
He answered with a manly grunt and focused unwaveringly on the road ahead. Finally, they reached the attorney’s office and parked. After checking her face—her eyes were a puffy nightmare, but at least she hadn’t been wearing mascara—Mystery dug some lipstick out of her purse and applied it.
“Are you all right?” her aunt asked, clucking like a mother hen.
“I’ll be fine. What floor?” Mystery asked more to change the subject than because she really cared.
“Fourth.” Aunt Gail smiled and patted her hand.
As Heath exited the car, he looked around cautiously, taking note of the street, passersby, other cars, any open windows. Mystery knew the drill. He went through the rundown in his head anytime they were in public.
“Do you still have the key I gave you?”
Mystery nodded at her aunt. “In my purse. I’m ready.”
“Are you?” Heath asked.
No, but she’d run out of time. She’d dragged her feet in claiming her mother’s belongings at eighteen, telling herself that her friends and future were more important than a bunch of her mom’s junk from the past. The truth was, she hadn’t really wanted to sift through the contents and have to deal with the aftermath of what she found. Then she’d moved to London, so the excuses had been easy. When would she ever get to Emporia, Kansas, again, right? But in order to pursue what she’d been feeling for Axel, she’d had to give her father a plausible excuse, and retrieving her mother’s effects had slipped off her tongue. Now that her relationship with Axel was in shambles, Mystery wished she could snuggle in front of the fire in her flat back home with her laptop, her characters, and a glass of wine, far away from the uncertainty and danger.
“Sure,” she murmured.
In front of the elevator a sign affixed to a dangling red chain hanging between two stanchions read OUT OF ORDER. Aunt Gail groaned as they made their way up the stairs, huffing and puffing hard by the third flight. En route, they passed a dentist’s office, a tutoring facility, and quite a few suites under refurbishment.
When they reached the fourth floor, Heath opened the door and peeked out. Once he deemed the empty space safe, he waved them out of the stairwell.
Mystery stepped through, checking the open landing with faux trees and nondescript dark-wood and beige chairs. The short pile carpeting in an uninspiring shade of oatmeal and the wall sconces with brass accents looked tired and out of date.
Whatever. She just wanted this over with. She was concerned that whoever had left the threatening picture in her hotel room in Dallas would be lying in wait for her here. Mystery would love to believe that, somehow, she’d lost the psycho’s trail and could just search her mother’s belongings in peace, but a tingling at the back of her neck told her otherwise. And after all the drama of the day, she absolutely didn’t need more.
Inside the office’s faux frosted-glass double doors, a fortysomething receptionist looked up from her gossip magazine, barely concealing irritation at the interruption, and buzzed Mr. Osborne. Two minutes later, she ushered them to the back, past a coffee station, a dark office, then to the end of the hall. The placard on the door read NELSON OSBORNE.