Kiss Midnight Goodbye (Midnight Blue Beach Book 3)

by Olivia Jaymes

  “Are you saying that it was planned?”

  He stopped and whirled around to face her. “I think I’m losing my mind. It might have been one great big coincidence but I thought we didn’t believe in those anymore. Listen to me, they haven’t done one thing right. They let Josh waltz into The Clubhouse and look for files. They chased us down a London street and let us get away. They tried to break into Josh and Chase’s house but were chased away by the dogs. This is not the work of a super secretive society that will do anything or kill anyone for power. In my experience, even terrible criminals get it right every now and then, if only by accident.”

  Her heart was pounding as his words penetrated her sleep-sluggish brain. “You think someone was protecting us?”

  He shook his head. “No, princess, I think someone was manipulating us. Now that is what Evandria is good at. Making one thing look like something completely different. We’ve been so busy running and hiding we haven’t concentrated on the real task. Finding who has the power and bringing them down.”

  Ellis was a smart cop and he just might be right. When looked at individually, each of the events didn’t seem all that strange but when she looked at them all together, he had a point.

  Evandria was terrible at killing people. But…

  “Archer managed to kill our husbands,” she pointed out. “They got that part right. They almost killed me.”

  “He did,” Ellis agreed, sitting down again. “But that was five years ago and it was all about Arsenal. As for your injuries, the operative word is almost. You were almost killed but you weren’t. For all we know they may have just wanted to scare us, not hurt you. The only reason you were near that package bomb is because you stopped to take a phone call. I’m honestly starting to believe that Evandria doesn’t truly sees us as a threat to their power structure. We think we’ve been making progress but what if it was what they wanted all along? And this trial is the same? Get you three in there, do their dog and pony show, and send you on your way with assurances you’ll be safe now.”

  Peyton licked her suddenly dry lips. “Then we’ve been pawns all along. They wanted us to dig up certain bodies so they didn’t have to.”

  Her head hurt just thinking about it.

  “Whoever they are. Is it the rogue faction? Is it the good guys? Are they one and the same? But yes, I think we’ve been used and I think Nigel Holmwood may have had a lot to do with that. Maybe even Grant Hollister and your brother and father too.”

  She wouldn’t put anything past her father or Jensen. “Then maybe we shouldn’t go tonight. Wouldn’t that be playing into their hands?”

  “I’m guessing they’ll find another way to get us where they want. Maybe if we go in with our eyes open, we can get the upper hand for once.”

  All the running and hiding. All the research. Her coma. Finding out the secrets Greg had carried to the grave. All of it. None of it had made a bit of difference.

  “We were never one step ahead, were we?” she asked sadly, her gaze meeting Ellis’s.

  “I don’t think so. I think they’ve played us every step of the way.”

  “What about our meeting? Was that an accident too?”

  Both Peyton and Ellis turned to see Willow standing in the doorway, tears glistening in her eyes.

  Ellis glanced at Peyton before answering. “No, I don’t think it was. I think the three of you were supposed to meet. If not that evening, then some other one. I think that fire in the kitchen that first night was set deliberately to force you out into that parking lot where you might run into each other.”

  Just like that, everything was different.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ellis had been expecting trouble at the gates of Evandria but the guard hadn’t blinked an eye at his and Josh’s presence with the women. Chase had stayed behind in what they were calling a “just in case” move. Ellis had given his friend the name of his FBI buddy since contacting the local police would likely be a waste of time.

  If they didn’t come out of the compound by morning, Chase was to call in the Feds, but Ellis doubted they were going to need to do anything rash. The more he thought about his theory, the more he believed it. Whether the women were truly in danger he didn’t know, but he didn’t have that feeling of foreboding in his gut anymore. There was anger, chewing away at him like acid, but the heart-stopping fear for Peyton’s life had been tempered. Evandria was playing a game with them and Ellis needed to figure out the goddamn rules as soon as possible.

  The guard had directed him to The Clubhouse and Ellis pulled the vehicle into a parking space as Nigel Holmwood strode out the back entrance where Josh had snuck in.

  “Remember, we’re here to listen and take in as much information as possible,” Ellis said as they exited the car. “Let’s look at things from the perspective of what they get out of our presence, not how it helps us.”

  “Bailey, darling, it’s so good to see you.” Holmwood embraced her. “I’ll be taking you in this back door to an observation area. I would ask that you not speak to any members or employees except for me while you’re in the building. Your being here is quite controversial and we’re only revealing it to a few select members. You may, of course, speak to one another.”

  “The officers?” Josh asked as they followed him into the building. “I assume they know.”

  “A few.”

  Ellis and Josh exchanged a glance that spoke volumes between them. Holmwood was definitely playing a game with them and perhaps all the other officers.

  To Ellis’s surprise the elevator took them down. To have a “basement” in Florida, the building had to have been built “up” in elevation so that what appeared to be the first floor was actually the second. The doors slid open and Holmwood ushered them down an ornate hallway with thick carpets on the floor and heavy oak furniture. Paintings of famous people – who must have also been members – hung on the walls. At one point, there was a picture of the US Congress chambers with little flags on certain seats both left and right of the aisle. It looked like Evandria didn’t care if a person was Republican or Democrat.

  He opened a door near the end of the hall and waited while they filed in. The room wasn’t large but it was comfortable with several chairs and two small sofas arranged facing one wall covered in a floor to ceiling blood red curtain.

  “Please make yourselves comfortable. There are refreshments at the bar.” He pointed to one side of the room before picking up a small woven basket on the table by the door. “I would ask that you turn off your cell phones and place them here. I won’t be taking them with me but this way you won’t be tempted to use them. These proceedings are absolutely secret. I’m afraid this is mandatory if you wish to remain. If you’re unwilling to part with your phones I can have you escorted to the Resort where you can wait for your friends.”

  The last thing Ellis wanted to give up was his phone but he had little choice if he wanted to stay. Powering the device down, he tossed it in the basket along with everyone else.

  “Thank you,” Nigel smiled. “They’ll be here by the door and you can pick them up on the way out. I appreciate your cooperation. Evandria has many quirks but they’ve worked for us through the years. Now, do you have any questions?”

  Loads. Where did he begin?

  Willow was the first to speak. “Where have you been keeping Archer? Do you have some sort of prison here?”

  If Holmwood was surprised by the question, he hid it well. “A prison isn’t necessary. He’s been kept in a secured area of the Retreat with his every move monitored. He is well aware that he wouldn’t leave this property alive.”

  “Who all is invited to something like this?” Peyton asked. She had to be thinking about her father and whether he would attend or if she might run into him here.

  Nigel walked over to the heavy red curtain and pulled it back, revealing a room on the other side of a large window. Tables set up in a circle ringed a single chair in the center. People were beginning to ente
r and sit down. Ellis recognized two senators and the CEO of a Wall Street firm that he’d seen interviewed on television.

  “No one can see you. From that room, this window looks like a mirror. As for who is attending, you can see for yourself. These are Evandria’s officers.” He pointed to the rows of chairs off to the side. “Those are for senior members who were once officers. The answer to your unspoken question, Peyton, is yes. Your father will be attending today’s trial. Your brother Jensen will not. He is not someone you should trust.”

  Ellis was fucking tired of this shit. “Because?”

  Nigel turned to him and nodded. “Jensen cannot be trusted to speak the truth.”

  “We figured that out without your help,” Ellis groused. “What we need to know is why. Why can’t Peyton trust Jensen? What has he done?”

  “It’s not for me to say.”

  “Why not?” Ellis asked sharply. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re getting damn tired of you speaking in riddles. Just fucking say what you mean.”

  The old man appeared completely unperturbed by Ellis’s vitriol, which in of itself was suspicious. “When I say Jensen or someone else cannot be trusted I often cannot give you specifics. I may have suspicions but nothing concrete.”

  “So this is your gut talking?” Peyton cut in. “You just think I can’t trust my brother? But you don’t know anything for sure?”

  “Precisely. I would hate to see you hurt if you did trust him.”

  Willow crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on the plush carpeting. “So whom can we trust? Is there a list?”

  Holmwood smiled. “You can trust me.”

  “Convenient,” remarked Josh, strolling over to the large observation window and pointing to Grant Hollister who had just sat down at a table. “Grant says we shouldn’t trust you.”

  “And yet I was the one who brought you here,” Holmwood said. “Not Hollister. Ask yourself why.”

  Chuckling, Ellis joined Josh by the window. “Funny you should mention that. I have been doing a lot of thinking these past few days and I think I may have come to the conclusion that we’re doing your dirty work for you. We take all the risks and you get what you’ve always wanted. Archer Caldwell on trial. Am I close?”

  Holmwood smiled. “I find that people will believe whatever they want to, so it would be foolish of me to try and change your mind. Now if you will excuse me, I have duties elsewhere. Please remember the rules. You must stay in this room the entire time and you must not talk to anyone but me. Do you understand?”

  “Uncle Nigel,” Bailey said before he was able to leave the room. “I do have one more question. Is that okay?”

  “Of course, my dear. What is it?”

  She pointed across the room they were observing where a large mirror hung on the wall.

  “Who is in that room on the other side?”

  “VIP guests. Members whose families go back to the founding of Evandria. Now I do have to go. I’ll see you when it’s over.”

  Holmwood slipped out of the room, leaving the five of them alone. Or as alone as one could be in Evandria. The room was in probability bugged for sound and maybe even videoed as well.

  Ellis headed straight for the bar with Josh on his heels. They could all use a drink.

  “There’s my father.” Peyton’s face was pressed up against the glass. “I guess Nigel was telling the truth about that.”

  “That’s probably all he was telling the truth about.” Josh accepted a high ball glass of whiskey from Ellis. “I don’t care what he says. I don’t trust him.”

  “He’s always told us the truth,” Bailey protested. “He’s never lied to us.”

  Rolling her eyes, Willow tossed back a gulp of the amber liquid. “Come on, he’s lied to you for years. He lied about Evandria. He lied about Arsenal and Frank. He lied about his lies. He’s a big, fat liar and he’s brought us here for a reason and it’s not out of the goodness of his heart. If we’re not careful we’ll find ourselves implicated in our husbands’ murders.”

  “Don’t give them any ideas,” Peyton shuddered. “I’m not sure whether I should trust Jensen but I’m sure I don’t trust Nigel.”

  Lips pressed into a thin line, Bailey picked up her whiskey glass. “Who are we supposed to trust? Grant? He almost got us killed that night at Roy’s.”

  “He’s done nothing but try to help us,” Willow protested. “He’s the reason we’re even here today for Archer’s trial. Without him we’d still be searching for the truth.”

  While the women argued, Ellis had wandered over to the window to study the scene laid out before him. The tables were inhabited by roughly the same amount of women as men, with many recognizable faces including Hollister’s. But the thing that had Ellis’s real attention was the VIP gallery Bailey had asked about.

  Just who did that include?

  “We can’t trust anyone,” Ellis said without bothering to turn around. Bickering wasn’t going to solve this problem. It didn’t change the facts, of which they had few. Paranoia? Conjecture? They had those in spades. “Trust no one but each other. That’s it. Everyone else is suspect even if they’ve told us the truth in the past.”

  Josh smiled, chuckling softly. “That makes the math easy.”

  Ellis lifted his glass in salute. “I try to help when I can.”

  Peyton nodded toward the window. “I think they’re starting.”

  Everyone in the room had taken a seat and two burly men were escorting Archer Caldwell to the chair in the center.

  It had begun.

  Chapter Twenty

  The room was quiet as were Peyton, Ellis, and their friends. Archer Caldwell was as well-dressed as any of the officers or observers in a dark blue bespoke suit. If she hadn’t known he was the defendant she would have mistaken him for one of the members. He looked like the businessman that he was, not a serial killer, which he’d proven to be also.

  Nigel had taken a seat at what appeared to be the head table next to an older well-dressed woman wearing a dark pantsuit and short blonde hair. She looked familiar but Peyton couldn’t place her. Perhaps she’d seen her at one of her parents’ parties over the years or maybe she’d seen her on television.

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched her father as he sat in the gallery, looking stately and superior in his gray pin-striped suit. When he’d walked in he’d been leaning on his gold-handled cane which told her that his bad knee was bothering him. After too much golf and some wet weather he always ended up complaining about his knee.

  The woman stood, a stoic and serious expression on her face. “We are here today to hear serious charges against an Evandrian brother, Archer William Caldwell. These allegations are egregious, and because of that we must be sure when we render our verdict today. But once we do…” The woman paused for effect. “If found guilty, justice must be swift and sure. But if innocent, we must as a family move on from this and find a way to work together. The mission of Evandria is more important than any petty arguments between our members. Now may we have the reading of the charges?”

  Nigel stood, thanked the woman quietly and read from a paper sitting on the table.

  “Today we come before you to accuse Archer Caldwell of not one…not two…but three murders of our own Evandria brothers. Frank Scott, Alex Vaughn, and Greg Nelson would be here today if not for his treachery against his own family.”

  Peyton released the breath she’d been holding as Nigel sat down again, taking off his glasses and setting them next to a glass of water. The woman picked up a gavel – she was apparently the judge – and pounded it once on the table.

  “Who is the accuser?”

  Grant Hollister stood and nodded to the attendees. “I am.”

  “You will act as prosecutor today?”

  “I will.”

  Willow had leaned forward in her chair to get a better view of her half-brother-in-law with Josh resting his hand on her shoulder. Everyone was on the edge of thei
r seats.

  “Does the accused have a defender?”

  Archer stood. “I am defending myself.”

  Fool. Was there no one who would take his side?

  The woman looked down at the stack of papers in front of her. “Then a defender will be appointed for you.” She leaned closer to Holmwood and they spoke for a moment. “Charles McMillen, you have been chosen.”

  Peyton stiffened in shock as her father nodded and slowly stood, hobbling to the lone empty chair in the circle.

  “Nigel knows I’m sitting back here,” she said quietly but loud enough to be heard. “He did that on purpose. My father against Alex’s half-brother.”

  Even Bailey couldn’t defend her uncle on this act, and Ellis had tensed up next to Peyton, his anger clearly written in his expression. It was a good thing Nigel was in another room because Ellis would have decked him.

  “He’s just playing with us,” he murmured. “This is all just a game to him.”

  Grant stood and outlined the charges again, playing the recording they’d all heard regarding Greg’s death. Strangely, no one mentioned Jensen or that he should be called to testify afterward. It was as if his name had never been spoken aloud. Peyton had scrutinized her father closely while the recording was playing, looking for any sort of reaction but she was disappointed. He remained silent and stoic the entire time. Perhaps Jensen had been telling the truth and the recording was referring to someone else.

  Peyton’s father stood, leaning on his cane, and questioned the veracity of the recording and citing technology as a possibility of how it had come to be. She was pretty sure no one bought that argument but it wasn’t a bad one.

  Charles McMillen still didn’t mention Jensen’s name, instead just listening with a neutral expression. She’d seen him look the same when he watched the evening news.