Noble Brit

by P. T. Michelle

  “I’m sure Den will be glad to learn you weren’t in any of the footage,” Elijah says, drawing me out of my musings.

  I nod. “I certainly am. Did you find anything else while scrolling through the clips around the hotel?”

  He shakes his head. “The clean-up crew must’ve known exactly where all the cameras were. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary while watching. Certainly nothing that looked like a body was being moved. Unless they snuck her out via another blind spot area.”

  “Did you find anything else while you were out walking around the hotel looking for more cameras?”

  He smirks as he queues up another video. “In my on-line search of the hotel’s records, there’s no documentation that anyone stayed in that room the same day you went, so I decided to go in person and inquire about the room rates. The goal was to see if there was also a paper record kept at the desk.”

  He pulls up a video of someone talking to the guy at the hotel’s front desk about room rates. It’s not the bookworm guy I saw that day, but I recognize the person’s voice asking questions and cut my gaze his way. “Where’d you hide your camera? It’s hard to tell from the angle.”

  Elijah retrieves a pair of sharp looking, black-framed glasses from his desk drawer. Pushing a button on the inside of the frames, he puts them on my face, then hits a few keys on his keyboard. In my periphery, his handsome face pops up on the computer screen. The moment I look at the screen, I see myself in the glasses and smirk. “I don’t look half bad in these. I’ll bet they can really come in handy.”

  He nods. “What’s nice is they have built-in memory chips along each side, so live is possible, but not necessary. Recording can happen inside the glasses and be downloaded later.”

  “Who knew BLACK Security had such great spy stuff. While you were at the hotel, did you find a paper register?”

  When he shakes his head, I sigh and absently push the glasses up into my hair while his video of the hotel’s front desk keeps playing over and over in my head. “Would you mind letting me see the clip you took again?” He queues it up, and after a couple minutes, I point to the screen. “Can you zoom in on that spiral book on the counter? The one to the right that says, ‘Guest Comments’?”

  When Elijah pauses the video and enhances the page, I point to the screen. “Look, see there. That’s the date I met Regan and her room number. And that’s absolutely her handwriting where is says: Clean room, very private.”

  He stares at her signature scrawl. “That doesn’t say Regan Crawford.”

  “Knowing people were trying to find her, of course she signed in under another name, hence the name…” I squint once more. “Elisabeth Vivus.”

  “That last name sounds like a female body part,” Elijah says, snorting.

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Seriously? Are all men perpetually twelve?”

  “Come on.” He gestures to the screen. “Using a name like that in a pay-by-the-hour hotel is just asking for attention.”

  “You’re right,” I say, rubbing my forehead in frustration. “It doesn’t make sense for someone determined to stay under the radar to sign in at all.”

  “So why did she?”

  “I honestly have no idea.”

  He jots down the name, then starts switching letters around, trying to make other words out of it. Underlining Elisabeth Vivus, he sets the pen down, then nods to the cell phone on his desk. “After I figure out how to safely get into this phone, I’ll try and see if I can make sense of her fake name. It could be that she meant it exactly how it sounds, like a porn star.”

  Sighing that I’ll never know what Regan wanted to say to me, I glance at the phone. “I thought you could crack anything. Why is that particular phone such a challenge?”

  “Since I have to crack it without turning it on.”

  “Huh? Um, it’s electronic. How are you expected to do that?”

  Elijah laughs. “Exactly. The issue is…if I power it up, the second I break the code to get in it, I won’t have time to shut off the data being sent/retrieved, since it’ll instantly connect to the closest cell tower. It’s feasible that the guy who owns it could remote erase it before I can get to the data.”

  “Ah, sounds like you need a mommy closet.”

  He gives me the side-eye. “What’s a mommy closet?”

  “You know, that one safe space that your kid can’t find you. They keep looking, but you’ve hidden yourself so well, they can’t see you. My mommy closet is behind the tall clothes in the guest bedroom closet. Now I only use it when we’re playing hide and seek. She never finds me. Ha! But when Josi was way beyond the age that she should be sleeping through the night, I would sometimes go in there for some peace and quiet. The clothes muffled the sounds of her crying to be picked back up the moment I put her to bed. If I couldn’t hear, it was easier to resist the urge to give in. That blissful quiet time saved my sanity and finally helped my daughter fall into the sleeping rhythm she needed.”

  “Mina, you’re brilliant!” Elijah barks out a laugh, his eyes lighting up. “Your mommy closet is the equivalent of a Faraday cage.”

  “What’s a Faraday cage?”

  He stands and grabs a couple of cords, then picks up another laptop on the desk behind him. “A faraday cage is a grounded metal framework that conducts electricity, creating a shielding effect that blocks outside electrical interference. And do you know where we get absolutely no cell or Wi-Fi reception?”

  I snap my fingers. “The service elevator, right? The couple of times I had to use it, my phone didn’t work in there.”

  Grinning, Elijah picks up the phone. “I’m off to crack this baby open.” Before he walks away, he lifts his chin toward me. “Keep this up and you’ll be a BLACK Security team member in no time.”

  With Elijah off working on his phone project, I sigh. Who knows how long that’s going to take. At least while he discussed video clips with me, I was distracted.

  But now that he’s not, I cut my gaze back to the doorway, then sit at his desk and try to find the video he was looking at when I walked in. Instead, I end up at a folder named Mina’s Walks.

  I click the folder to find five video surveillance clips pulled from various sources that show me running errands and shopping around the city. When I see the labels of the video locations, I realize every place was one I had mentioned to Den. Elijah was probably checking these at his request.

  Two of the files are flagged with a red dot and one with a blue dot. What do the colored dots mean?

  I watch the two red-dotted videos. In both, a woman with blond hair and wearing sunglasses is in the background. My heart jerks with relief to know I wasn’t crazy! I stop each one, zooming in on the stranger’s face. She looks so much like my mother that my stomach ties into knots. I click open the third video. It’s a dreary day and the same woman is wearing regular glasses. Now that I can see the shape of her eyes and the thicker sunglasses aren’t obscuring the bridge of her nose, I know she isn’t my mom. She must live in the area and happened to be around the same time. At least I wasn’t going nutty. At a glance, she does really favor my mom. It’s amazing the rationalization the mind can manufacture.

  Glad to know my sanity is mostly intact, I start to shut out of the last video when the familiar colorful store sign of Tara’s Trinkets & Teas in the background snags my attention. Seeing proof that I’ve walked past the place where Laura works at least a half dozen times and never stopped in to say “Hi” ratchets my guilt, especially considering she brought tea by for me twice. I’ve really been a crappy friend. Maybe I wasn’t as deserving of Regan’s loyalty as I thought.

  With that depressing thought, I close the videos and the folder, then shut Elijah’s laptop.

  The last thing I need is time on my hands to think about the fact Regan is gone…and someone murdered her. Everyone else might need Den’s friend to prove the DNA match from the blood in the hotel, but as far as I’m concerned, her handwriting in that book proves i
t was Regan. A part of me had hoped that I was wrong, and Den’s first impression—that I was wasted that day—was right. Now that I know the truth, it would be easier to accept I’d somehow manufactured the whole scenario in that hotel room in my head than to have to acknowledge my friend was murdered. Even now I can’t explain why I got so wasted off a half glass of wine that day.

  Then again, considering Den’s comments about my tea, it’s possible Laura might have a clue. There’s no better time than the present to make up for being a crappy friend, and at the same time I can ask her about the tea.

  I stand, intending to head out, then pause and bite my lower lip. Sebastian and Den will be furious if I go anywhere without back up, even though Elijah couldn’t find any proof of me near the hotel. But, so neither of them blow a gasket, I’ll ask Theo to keep an eye on me.

  With thoughts of Regan tumbling around in the back of my mind, my steps are determined as I walk along my regular errands’ route. I’ve lost one friend. I don’t want to lose another, certainly not because I’ve been so wrapped up in dealing with my own issues. It has been at least a week since I came this way, and I actually miss the routineness of it.

  The crowd waiting for the light to change tightens around me, and I’m bumped on my right by a man in dark dreads with a guitar case, and then on my left by a woman in a pixie cut, tats, and round, wire-rimmed glasses. “Sorry, lovely,” she says, her nose ring shining in the light as she glances down at me. I nod my acceptance and start to slide a hand through my hair when my fingers snag on Elijah’s glasses. Oops, I can’t believe I forgot to take them off. Putting them in my purse, I quickly glance around, until I spot Theo leaning against the building no more than twenty feet away.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was just a bear of a man waiting for his wife to finish up inside one of the shops. With his hands jammed in jeans’ pockets, his jacket zipped up and his baseball cap’s bill curled just right, the guy’s got the bored-husband-ready-to-go-watch-sports face down pat. Thing is, those guys who wait for their wives are special unicorns. Theo’s going to make someone a very good husband one day.

  Trying to picture the type of woman it would take to make Theo wait outside for her while she shops, I follow the crowd across the street, then pull open the door to Tara’s Trinkets & Teas and walk inside the crowded store.

  I spy Laura at the register helping a customer. Post cards, stationary, greeting cards, figurines, picture frames, trinket boxes, papers, pens, and specialty gift boxes fill every corner of the store, while the spicy scent of autumn hangs in the air. Is that a candle or a new tea blend? It sure does smell good.

  It looks like business is booming. That makes me happy for Laura. She’s the one who convinced Tara to add the “tea” element to her store. Now the entire back wall is covered with select teas, specially designed tins, and various teapots from glass to cast iron. I don’t think Tara would’ve had the courage to expand her business without Laura’s encouragement and creativity. And the tea element…it sure does add a homey stick-around-for-a-while feel to the store.

  With her hair worn in gorgeous shoulder-length black ringlets with golden highlights, creamy light brown skin and a ready smile, Laura has always been classically beautiful. But now that she’s in her element ringing up customers while also encouraging them to attend an upcoming blend-your-own-tea party, she’s practically glowing.

  I spin the cardholder rack and my heart twists a little as my gaze lands on the placard behind the register: Owner - Tara Combs, Manager - Laura Eller. How did I not know this? While I’m glad to see Tara recognizes just how awesome Laura is, I feel horrible that I’ve been so out of touch I didn’t know about my best friend’s promotion.

  Last I heard, she’d proposed the tea idea to Tara and the owner loved it. Laura’s smart, business savvy, and very hard working. She deserves all the kudos. The last thing I want to do is throw any kind of negativity on what she’s building here with Tara by questioning the tea I was given. And honestly, for all I know, Den’s taste buds could be way off.

  “Mina!” Laura calls when she glances up and notices me. Coming around the counter, she weaves her way through display tables and past customers to wrap me in a warm hug. “Welcome to the new digs.”

  “Congratulations on your promotion. You totally deserve it!” I hug her tight and pull back, chuckling. “And you smell like peppermint.”

  Laura laughs and folds her hands around mine. “I was working on perfecting the Christmas tea blends earlier. Peppermint kind of lingers on you.”

  “Just only for all our lives.” We share a laugh and I smile. “Seriously though, I’m super proud of you and what you’ve accomplished here. Please tell me you’ll have time in your schedule next week for me to take you out for a proper congratulations dinner?”

  Laura nods. “I’ll have to check the store schedule and text you, but I’d absolutely love to catch up. I’m so happy to see you looking well. I’ve missed your face so much.”

  “The same, girl. Truly.” Glancing around, I notice a line forming at the register, while her other employees are too busy helping customers to notice. I feel bad for taking up her time, so I squeeze her hands once more. “I just wanted to stop by and ask about dinner. You’ve been such a great friend, being patient waiting for me to come out of my funk. Thank you for checking on me and for dropping off the teas to cheer me up.”

  “What teas?” she says, her brow puckering slightly.

  “Laura,” a girl in her early twenties with wide eyes and a pixie haircut says, “This customer is asking about the autumn blend and I need to ring some people up. Can you take over?”

  My stomach churns that Laura seems confused. When she turns back to me, I say quickly, “You know, the teas you left at my door.”

  “I didn’t drop off any teas.” She shakes her head. “I mean, I planned to, but since I didn’t know exactly what you’d like, I thought I’d wait until you felt better.”

  “Ah, no worries. My sister-in-law must’ve left them. I know you’re busy. Go help your customers. I’ll probably check out the teas myself before I head out. Don’t forget to text me after you look at your schedule.”

  “The new autumn blend is divine.” She lifts her cute, freckled nose in the air, sniffing as she backs away. “That’s what you’re smelling. I can make it for you with a green tea instead of black, if you like.”

  “Go,” I say, shooing her. She grins and kisses the air twice before heading for the tea section to help the waiting customer.

  I tried not to let how freaked out I was show when Laura said she wasn’t responsible for the teas I received, but honestly, I can’t breathe. When I think back on it now, I never said, “Thank you for the teas” in my texts to her. I just thanked her for thinking of me. She had no idea I was referring to the teas. And I’ve been drinking those blends from some stranger non-stop for a couple of months! My lungs feel like they’re collapsing. I need some air. Turning to head out of the store, I run right into a woman standing close to the card rack.

  “Excuse me—” I stare at the familiar face. She’s the same blonde who starred in those clips Elijah captured. I’m on-the-edge already, and the fact this woman is in the exact same store at the same time I am, can’t be brushed off as coincidence a fourth time.

  “Who are you and why are you following me?” I demand.

  “Keep your voice down, Mina,” the woman says in a low tone that’s entirely my mother’s voice.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mina

  As I gape at her and whisper, “Mom?” the woman angles herself slightly away and quickly turns the card rack.

  Looking at the cards, she hisses in a low voice, “I know it’s hard to believe, but you need to at least pretend to look at the cards while we talk.”

  My face pales and I jerk my gaze back to Laura to see she’s still talking to the lady about tea. Raising a shaky hand, I pull a card from the rack. It flops open in my palm, but I don’t see what it
says at all. “What happened? How is this possible?”

  “It’s fairly obvious, Mina dear. I faked my own death.”

  “And changed your face too,” I snap, my stomach churning as I return the card and pick a new one. Fighting back tears for all the pain and angst I’ve gone through since she died in that explosion, and then thinking I was losing my mind seeing a woman who seemed so much like my mom, my hand clamps closed around the card, creasing it. “You left us!” I say on an angry whisper. “Wh—why did you do that?”

  “Of course I changed my face. I’m supposed to be dead.” Amending her curt tone, she sighs heavily. “As for why I did it, my past sins would eventually catch up with me. It was just a matter of time. And I knew he would always hold it over me. When I discovered an opportunity, I took it.”

  “You’re talking about Seb.” I shake my head, embarrassed to call her my mom. “How could you do that to him? And then his poor mother got caught in the crossfire?” I cast a quick glance her way, needing to see her reaction.

  “I see Sebastian ratted me out the moment I was in the ground,” she says, her mouth pressing together like she just tasted a lemon. “I’ll bet he couldn’t wait to tell your father.”

  Underneath her bitterness, she sounds tense, but she keeps her gaze averted. It seems she cares more about what my father might think than what I do after learning what she did all those years ago. I return my gaze to the card in my hand and smooth it out. “Sebastian is a man of honor. Dad still doesn’t know and he never will. What possessed you to send a hit man after a teenage boy?”

  “I was protecting my children. You, Damien, and Gavin were the Blake legacy. Not some bastard child Adam fathered before he married me. You’re a mother now, Mina. You should understand the lengths a mother will go to protect her children.”

  Not like this. Not at all! I’m speechless. All I can do is stand there, frozen in place while my mind races with questions. We saw her get in that limo. We buried a body. “Who burned in that limo?”