Wicked After Midnight (Midnight Blue Beach Book 1)

by Olivia Jaymes

  Chase shook his head. “Of course not. We’ll stay here and keep an eye on things.”

  Lowering herself into the chair, Bailey reached out for Peyton’s hand, the skin cool to the touch. She’d never known anyone in a coma but she remembered hearing that some patients were aware of what was going on around them and could remember what had been said in their rooms. It was worth a try.

  “Peyton, it’s Bailey. I know you might be scared but I want you to know that you’re in the hospital and have the best care possible. Willow went back home to tell your family and bring them here but I stayed behind to work on the case. We’re going to find out who did this to you and bring them to justice, but until then I don’t want you to worry. That asshole detective? Ellis Hunter? He’s going to guard you when we’re not here and I think he’s going to do a good job. When we got here he was reading to you so hopefully he’ll keep doing that. It’s supposed to help you recover faster so we’ll talk to you too. I just want you to know that you’re going to be okay. The doctor said you’re stable and soon you’ll wake up and everything will be fine. We miss you though. I really miss you, Peyton.”

  She was rambling back and forth but she couldn’t seem to stem the tide of words and emotion. Her chest and throat had tightened painfully and tears pricked the back of her eyes as she watched Peyton’s still body. So pale and fragile. None of this was fair.

  She and Chase took turns talking to Peyton about everything from the weather to what their plans for the day were. By the time Ellis strolled back in they were about out of topics. His hair was damp as if he’d had a shower and his clothes were fresh. Before they could ask him if he’d gone home he pointed to his shirt and grinned.

  “They let me use the showers here and a buddy brought me some fresh clothes. I’m good for the next eight hours or so, then a relief is coming to let me get some rest. Don’t worry about your friend. I promise nothing will happen to her.”

  Bailey kissed Peyton’s forehead and told her she’d be back after they spoke to the senator to give her an update. She let Chase take her hand and lead her out of the hospital and into the bright sunshine, a world that seemed far away from the beeping machines and gray walls of Peyton’s hospital room.

  “Ellis is in a pretty decent mood today considering he slept on a hard, plastic chair,” Chase said. “I was afraid he’d be his usual dick self but he was on his best behavior this morning. He must like you.”

  Bailey didn’t care how he felt about her as long as he protected Peyton.

  Ellis Hunter settled back into the chair next to Peyton’s bed before reaching over to the bedside table where he’d stashed a half empty water bottle sometime last night. Unscrewing the top, he quickly drained the remaining liquid and tossed it in the trashcan in the corner.

  “Two points,” he chuckled. “Of course that was only about six feet so I guess it’s not all that impressive. So Peyton, what do you want to do today? Shall we read more of the paper or maybe that paperback the nurse brought me? It looks like a halfway decent thriller. Do you like blood and guts or are you more of a romance and kisses type? I bet you like the romance, don’t you? Me? I like those action, shoot-’em-up movies where you’re not sure if the hero is going to live or die. I guess I like the adrenaline rush or something. You’re probably more quiet, soft-spoken. A real lady.”

  He fussed with the sheets, smoothing them down where Bailey and Chase had wrinkled them during their visit. He didn’t touch Peyton; he wouldn’t do that, but he had a feeling she would want her linens to look nice. She seemed like someone who liked order.

  “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? Whoever did this to you is going to pay, I promise. I won’t let them get to you again. Hell, they’d have to go through me and I’m not ready to die. Not even close, so you can just rest and get better.”

  He picked up the paperback on the table and opened it to the first page, clearing his throat.

  Chapter Thirty

  They caught up with Senator Daniel Ford while drinking a beer at the clubhouse after a round of golf. The look on his face when he saw them was priceless but he simply shook his head and capitulated when they asked if they could talk to him for a few minutes. His companions had drifted back to the locker room, leaving the three of them sitting at a table overlooking the eighteenth green.

  “So I lied.”

  Bailey didn’t much care whether he had or not. He was a politician so she expected it. “We met with Guy Eckley.”

  “How is he? Is he okay?”

  “You could call him and ask,” Chase replied. “But I guess since he’s been blackballed you’re not allowed to do that. Isn’t that the rule?”

  The senator rubbed his hand over his sweaty forehead. “It’s not like that. You don’t understand.”

  “Make us understand,” Chase pressed. “When Guy found out that Frank, Alex, and Greg were all dead and on the same day, he said one word. Evandria. He didn’t even hesitate—it was the first word on his lips. Tell me why he would say it.”

  Ford made a choking sound and scraped his hand over his face. “Guy is bitter, that’s all.”

  Bailey shook her head. “Not at all. He’s actually happy with his life. So try again.”

  Lips trembling, the senator stared out of the window. “I’ve made vows. There are people depending on me to keep them.”

  “Are they more important than your friends? Frank, Greg, and Alex were like brothers to you and this is how you treat their memories? You know more than you’re telling us. Don’t think about Evandria. Think about your friends.”

  “I think about them…more than you can imagine.”

  Bailey had lost patience. “Big deal. Try being married to him and thinking about him every single day. Never having real peace because I don’t know what truly happened. Wondering who my husband was and why he kept so many secrets from me. Try doing that for several years, Senator, and then tell me all about your vows.”

  Ford’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he hung his head for a minute before responding.

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this, any of it. They could…”

  “Who? Evandria?” Chase asked. “What would they do?”

  Ford shook his head, his gaze far away. “I owe what I am to them. Everything that I’ve become.”

  “And they’d take it away?” Bailey said. “Would you be blackballed too?”

  The senator’s gaze finally swung to them and he shrugged his shoulders. “Punishments can vary. I’m going to use the mortality rule in talking with you both today. Basically I can reveal certain things about a deceased member of the group. I will reveal only those things that are covered in the rule, understand?”

  They both nodded in agreement, letting him continue. “That summer when we were invited to join there were various recruitment opportunities. Everyone has to find their place in the council and our young men and women talk to several different department captains about how they might work for the mission. The five of us were a part of that. This is no secret and is considered common knowledge so I’m not telling you anything that isn’t public knowledge.”

  “The secret is where Frank was recruited?” Bailey guessed. “Can you tell us that?”

  “I don’t know exactly. We don’t discuss our placement but I do know that all of us were being recruited for what were called special assignments, and they were to be kept under wraps. I went to work for a congressman and ended up in politics. Frank ended up in London with a man named Nigel Holmwood, some sort of investment banker. I don’t know about Alex and Greg. We all lost touch with one another after that summer and I blamed it on these secret assignments.”

  “Uncle Nigel?” Bailey sat back in her chair, floored by the revelation. “I always thought he was Frank’s real uncle.”

  Chase placed a steadying hand on her own. “We’re going to need to talk to him.”

  “I have his number. He’s kept in touch since Frank’s death. He’s a wonderful, sweet man.”r />
  “So how many other people had these special assignments?” Chase’s attention turned back to the senator. “Are they still alive?”

  “I don’t know. The only reason I knew about us was because we were such close friends. I’d have no way of knowing that information.”

  Bailey tapped her chin. “Does Evandria keep records?”

  Ford’s face paled. “They might but you’ll never see them. If they even exist, they’d keep them at the headquarters under lock and key.”

  Midnight Blue Beach. Willow and Josh were already there. Maybe they should make a visit to the compound.

  She was done pussyfooting around the real question. “Do you think Evandria had Frank, Alex, and Greg killed? Do you think Evandria had something to do with Gwen’s death?”

  The man put off answering the question as long as possible, rubbing his chin, looking at the ceiling and then the floor, sighing several times. If he didn’t want to answer that question, maybe he would answer this one.

  “What is so special about July twenty-first?”

  For the first time that day, Daniel Ford didn’t seem uncomfortable. “That is the date of the First Battle of Bull Run in Manassas Junction, Virginia. The first major battle of the Civil War was fought and ended that day. The Confederates won.”

  Bailey and Chase exchanged a confused glance.

  “I’m not sure what that has to do with my husband Frank.”

  “That day, Mrs. Scott, was the day the Evandria Council was born. It was created out of the chaos of a country tearing itself apart, being destroyed, not by foreign invaders, but by its own citizens. It was on that day that our founders knew that no matter who won or lost, there would need to be great healing and leadership going forward. We could never allow this to happen again.”

  The senator then stood, tucking his wallet and phone in his pocket. “Now I must be going. I’ve told you all I can.”

  “Wait,” Bailey begged. “You haven’t answered my question. Do you think the Council had my husband killed? Did they kill Gwen?”

  Ford stood up tall and proud. “I can say without a sliver of doubt that whatever the Council does, it does for the good of the people. But frankly, Mrs. Scott…me, your husband, you, or Chase…we’re not important enough to capture the Council’s attention. What a teenage girl did one summer long ago matters little to them.”

  With that the man turned and strode away, leaving Bailey and Chase sitting alone at the table contemplating what they’d learned. Bailey was the first to speak.

  “So was that a yes or a no?”

  Chase exhaled and shook his head in disgust. “That was maybe, I think. Mostly I believe he doesn’t know and even more he doesn’t want to know. He’s a foot soldier and seems to work under need to know conditions.”

  “Is this a war?”

  Chase nodded to where Ford had been sitting moments ago. “I think he thinks it is.”

  Wars have casualties. Was that what happened to Frank and the others? Had Frank been secretly fighting a battle she’d known nothing about and had Gwen been caught in the middle?

  Bailey had tried to call Nigel Holmwood but there was no answer. She left a message and also typed out a quick email to him, explaining that she needed to talk to him right away but didn’t give him any actual details.

  Chase opened the door to the hospital ICU for Bailey as she stuffed her phone back into her purse. The nurses were sticklers about cell usage in the ward.

  “I hope he’s okay,” she sighed before they entered Peyton’s room. “I don’t remember a time when he hasn’t answered. He’s glued to his phone.”

  “Don’t look for boogeymen where there are none. He probably just forgot to put it on the charger. He’ll contact you very soon.”

  “I hope so.”

  Placing an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her in for a brief kiss that had the nurses grinning and giggling. She slapped at his hands but she wasn’t upset in the least.

  “Everyone is staring, you crazy man.”

  “Everyone is envious.”

  Bailey giggled and rolled her eyes, casting a glance behind her to the nurse’s station. “You bet they are. They all wish they were me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how they flirt with you, Chase Jennings.”

  He laid his hand over his heart. “I’m a one woman man.”

  “You better be.”

  Peyton’s color was a little better but the doctor still had her in a coma. Ellis had apparently gone home in the middle of the day and taken a nap and was now back, planning to spend the night. In a chair. Again. That had Bailey bustling out to the nurse’s station to find him a cot or even a semi-reclining hammock or lawn chair that wouldn’t force him to sit up for the next twelve hours or so.

  “You’ve got to get some fucking rest, Ellis,” Chase said when Bailey had left the room. “You can’t protect Peyton if you’re exhausted.”

  “Sam will be sitting outside the ward from nine tonight until six in the morning just in case I fall asleep. But I’m fine. I socked away three hours today. I’m as good as new.”

  It was true Ellis needed little sleep but there had to be a line. “Don’t you trust the other guys to protect her?”

  “I do but you know I like to handle things myself.” Ellis reached down for his briefcase that he’d tucked next to the plastic chair and pulled out a piece of paper. “You’re fucking welcome.”

  Chase took it – a name and address. Son of a bitch. “How did you find it?”

  “It wasn’t easy. She’s a woman that doesn’t want to be found and I find that fascinating. You never mentioned her before so I assume you didn’t know her.”

  Chase shook his head. “I never met her. I don’t think she ever attended. I’m not even sure if she knows anything.”

  “That friend Taylor didn’t know why Gwen was acting wild that summer, but her older sister might. Girls tell each other things, secrets. I think she might be worth a visit. If you find out what was behind the behavior you just might find a motive. Good work finding that obscure reference to her. Nobody on the original case thought to interview her.”

  “Or wanted to,” Chase replied. “Whenever I read through that file it’s like the cops back then went out of their way to not solve it.”

  “Careful,” Ellis laughed. “Your tinfoil hat might fall off. Stop with the conspiracy theories. Secrets are too hard to keep in a group of guys. You’re letting this case get to you. Now tell me about your meeting with Senator Ford.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It was late afternoon when Bailey and Chase pulled up in front of a large Victorian home that looked to have been lovingly restored. According to Ellis, Catherine Baxter – who now called herself Cathy Martin – lived in this home along with her husband of ten years. No children. They hadn’t called first because frankly they were afraid that Cathy would tell them not to come.

  “There’s no car in the driveway so no one may even be home.”

  Chase pocketed the car keys. “Then we’ll wait. We need to talk to Catherine Baxter.”

  Bailey wasn’t as sure that the woman would have anything to say that would help them. She was beginning to get discouraged. Just when she thought they’d made a breakthrough and learned something important they’d have another setback and be left where they’d started. The one thing she knew for sure was that the man she’d married hadn’t been the boy who had attended summer camp all those years ago. He hadn’t been the young man excited about life and dedicated to making the world a better place. No, he’d been someone altogether different and she wished sorely that hadn’t been the case.

  Bailey swung out of the car, hitching her purse onto her shoulder. “So we’re just winging it? Is that the plan?”

  Chase came to stand beside her. “I don’t have a plan except to tell her the truth and hope she takes pity on us. How does that sound?”

  “I think that sounds like exactly what we should do. No pretending, no beating around the bush. Tell her
what we know and what we don’t know.”

  “I’m beginning to think we don’t know anything for sure.”

  Bailey couldn’t argue that fact and didn’t try. Instead, she followed him up the porch steps and waited patiently as he rang the doorbell. It only took a moment for an attractive dark-haired woman in her forties to answer. She smiled guardedly, probably thinking they were there to sell magazines or religion.

  “Hello, my name is Chase Jennings and this is Bailey Scott. I know you don’t know us, Mrs. Martin, but we’re here to ask for just a few minutes of your time. It’s very important. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your sister Gwen.”

  The woman blinked a few times, her mouth going slack. “I–I can’t imagine what you have to say being any interest to me. I think you should go.”

  The door started to close but before she could even think about her actions, Bailey grabbed it, holding it open. She only hoped she hadn’t scared Catherine Baxter in the process.

  “Please, I beg of you. We need to talk to you. I lost my husband Frank Scott five years ago, Mrs. Martin. On July twenty-first. The same day as Alex Vaughn and Greg Nelson. All three of them were friends and cabinmates at the summer camp with Gwen. All of them dated her. Frank was the last person to see her alive. I’m trying to find out if there is any connection between Frank and his friends’ deaths and Gwen’s. I am pleading with you to speak with us. We’re not trying to bring up bad memories, I swear. We are trying to find the truth.”

  Bailey didn’t have to exaggerate her desperation because it was real. It also seemed to do the trick. Cathy Martin’s hands dropped from the door and her expression turned haunted and sad.

  “The truth? My dear, I don’t even know what that is anymore.”

  “Would you talk to us?” Chase asked kindly. “Just a few minutes.”

  The woman’s hand fluttered to her throat, but she finally agreed. “Yes, you can come in.”