“And your girlfriend?” he challenged.

“Not my girlfriend. I already hashed this out with Mystery.”

“You truly have feelings for her?”

Axel was fucking tired of this guy being in his way all the time. “More than I can even express. I will never let anything happen to her as long as there’s a breath in my body.”

Heath sighed. “I need to talk to her.”

“Not going to happen right now. She’s waiting for me.”

“And everything in your hands?” He glanced at the items Axel had been balancing on the cutting board.

“What’s your point?”

Heath shook his head. “Forget it. We can argue later over Mystery’s love life. While I was walking about the farm, I started sorting through this tangle of events. There’s something about this setup I don’t like. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up. Besides the three of us and Mystery’s aunt, who else knows we’re here?”

“My boss, Mitchell Thorpe, and the Santiago brothers. I think that’s it, and they would never tell anyone or put Mystery in danger. What about your stops on the drive along the way?”

“I concealed her with a baseball cap and some sunglasses in case people recognized her, but no one even glanced her way, and we did our best to stop a few miles from the freeway, at small establishments without many security cameras. I think we were safe.”

“So what’s making your hair stand up?” Axel asked. Because he had a few concerns that chafed him, too.

“First, we still don’t know who broke into her room and left the photo inside.”

True, and Stone was no doubt way busier with Sweet Pea than hacking into the hotel’s security recordings. He’d also probably crashed at the club last night, then had a five-hour drive home. With a grimace, Axel pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Stone. Right away, he got back a promise of information “soon.” What if that wasn’t soon enough?

Firing off another text to remind him that a life hung in the balance, he pocketed the device again. “I’ll give him another two hours before I bug the shit out of him.”

And Axel had to admit again that if Heath were guilty, he probably wouldn’t be pursuing that security footage from the hotel. If the film caught him sneaking into her room, his jig would be up. Sure, the stiff Brit could have paid someone to put the picture there, like the maid who usually provided turndown service or a maintenance worker. He’d be too slick to leave a trail leading back to him.

With a shake of his head, he filed that fact away until Stone came back with the film. “Something else bothering you about her stalker?”

“Everything. But what troubles me most is that he’s in control right now.”

Now Heath was speaking his language. “Agreed. I know Mystery wants to visit her aunt, but we’re cornered here. I’m not sure how the hell we solve her mother’s murder that took place in Southern California sixteen years ago while we’re stuck in rural Kansas.”

“Divide and conquer?”

As much as Axel would love to get Heath far away from Mystery, he shook his head. “It won’t be long until whoever’s terrorizing her realizes she didn’t hop a plane back to London. I’ll bet we’ve got twenty-four hours—tops—before this dirtbag gets suspicious. Where’s the first place he’ll come looking for her?”

“Here,” Heath answered grimly, gripping his chin. “Bloody hell. So both of us need to stay here for her protection, it seems.”

“If you want to go investigate, I could call some buddies—”

“I can’t leave her side,” the Brit insisted. “Her father paid me to stay with her. I made a solemn vow that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her on my watch.”

Knowing what he knew about Heath now, Axel supposed the guy’s insistence had something to do with his wife’s murder. He couldn’t fault the Brit for that. “Totally get it. That means we’re cornered here. Nifty.”

“Indeed. With no new leads to follow.” Heath sighed.

Well, not exactly . . . Axel weighed how much he could trust Heath versus his need to solve this case. Figuring out who had killed Julia Mullins and might want Mystery dead trumped everything.

“I got something fresh about an hour ago.”

That perked the Brit up. “Really? Enlighten me.”

Axel set his pervertables down on the counter and whipped out his phone again, then brought up the picture Joaquin had sent him. “Julia Mullins at the place of her death, less than an hour prior. She wasn’t alone.”

Powell peered at the picture. “Who is the man with her?”

“No idea.”

“He doesn’t look familiar to me, either.”

That wasn’t great news. It also wasn’t unexpected. “I definitely plan to ask Aunt Gail in the morning if she knows who her sister might have been close to back then. But . . .” Axel grimaced. “I’m torn about showing it to Mystery. She might have information.”

“She also might start a one-woman crusade to catch her mother’s killer.”

“Exactly.”

Heath shrugged. “Well, I think we show her. Then we’ll have to contain Mystery and do our best to solve this murder before the killer comes looking for her.”

And she deserved the truth. Axel agreed. “I don’t see any other plan.”

“I don’t, either. Damn it all.” He rubbed at his dark eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

“We all are. Go to bed. We’ll tackle this after we’ve all slept.” Axel reached for his makeshift sex toys.

“You’re not going to leave her be tonight?”

Axel shook his head. “If I thought that was best for her, I would. She needs reassurance that I want her above all else. It’s the truth, so it shouldn’t be hard to persuade her. Then I’ll make sure she gets a good night’s sleep. I have a feeling it’s going to be a rough day tomorrow. You taking the parlor down here or the guest room upstairs, across the hall?”

Powell raised a dark brow. “Where will you be?”

“Right beside her.” At least he would be if all went according to plan.

The bodyguard dragged in a breath. “I’ll stay downstairs and keep watch. God knows the last thing I want to hear again is her screaming for you.”

“Does that bother you because you’re in love with her?”

“We’ll talk later.” Heath headed for the exit without answering, then turned to glance at the implements in Axel’s hands. “Be careful of the wooden spoon. It can leave nasty welts.”

“You know that from personal experience?” Somehow, that didn’t surprise Axel much.

The other man didn’t answer, just left in near silence, despite the fact that the hardwood floor creaked with nearly every step.

Once he’d gone and shut the double doors down the hall, Axel headed out of the kitchen, all but tiptoeing up the narrow stairs. Despite its dubious “character,” the old house was homey. He liked it here. When he’d been a kid growing up in a run-down double-wide with three brothers and an alcoholic father, he’d imagined that home looked a lot like this. He loved his place now, and was damn proud of it. But it had never felt like a place to stay forever. It had never felt like a place to share love. And now he was getting sappy as fuck.

With a stupid smile, he reached the top of the stairs, passing a big, decorative cross on the wall flanked by pictures of well-known televangelists Oral Roberts, Jerry Falwell, Peter Grace, and a few others Axel couldn’t identify. Mystery’s aunt clearly believed in her preachers.

Turning away with a shrug, he cracked open the first door on the right. Mystery knelt there, waiting, head bowed, naked and pale in the moonlight.

As he set the cutting board and other goodies on the nearby dresser, his breath caught. “Princess . . .”

“Axel.”

He crouched down to her and lifted her chin. She blinked, her eyes opening, focusing on him. They stared at each other in silence. Mystery reached into his chest and tugged on his heart. The uncertainty in her hazel eyes got to him, the yearning for love, the crash of desire all struck resonating notes inside him.