It occurred to Axel, too. “She was far more likely to leave it with her sister.”

“Or near her. Perhaps that’s what the attorney has been safekeeping,” Heath mused. “Perhaps that’s what the key is for.”

She let out a shuddering breath. “I think you’re right.”

Mystery stood, looking pale. Axel’s heart thudded in his chest. He fucking hated to see her worried or in pain or afraid. Right now, his princess looked as if she’d been flattened by all of the above, and it made him want to draw a damn sword and do battle for her—whatever was necessary to help her slay her dragons and find peace again . . . as corny as that sounded.

“Axel,” Heath muttered. “We have to discuss this.”

He noticed the other man now glided his palm soothingly between Mystery’s shoulder blades.

She looked up at Heath. “You think there’s danger? Whoever left me the photo at the hotel room could still be watching and have some plan to kill me if I try to claim whatever my mother left with that attorney for me?”

Despite the coiling of danger that made his gut burn, Axel shot Heath a wry stare. “Why couldn’t she have been a stupid girl? Sometimes, like now, if she had fewer brain cells, it might set me at ease.”

Mystery scoffed but flubbed the sound. It turned into a laugh. “I don’t think you’d like me if I was a dumb ass.”

“Probably not,” Axel admitted, then braced his hand on the small of her back, soothing her with a brush of his palm.

His fingers collided with Heath’s, still caressing her. He sent the other man a glare that warned him to back off. And Heath just smiled in a tight, fuck-off sort of way.

As if he didn’t have enough fucking problems . . . Besides the emotional aunt and the flaring danger, now he had to put up with a would-be Romeo. Fucking awesome.

“We should get ready to go.” Axel ushered Mystery toward the stairs, away from Heath’s touch. “I’m assuming you want a shower?”

“Yeah.” She swiped a hand over her tired face. “God, I hope I’m ready for this. But it’s now or never.”

“I’ll always do everything I can to keep you safe,” Heath vowed across the room.

She turned back to him with a grateful stare, and Axel tried not to take the Brit’s head off for expressing concern. He needed to downshift on the resentment. If Mystery had wanted the man, she would have already been in his bed. Because no way would Heath have turned her down. Right now, she needed protection more than jealousy. And he needed to pull his head out of his ass and call Mullins again—out of Mystery’s earshot.

“We both will. Let’s go.”

*   *   *

IN Emporia, the pace of the traffic was definitely an upswing from Marion, but it still had a small-town feel. Aunt Gail had made everyone a glass of homemade lemonade before they’d started the drive, reminding Mystery so much of visits here with her mom. She was still feeling wistful as they reached the diner.

Most everyone had been quiet during the hour-long drive here. Mystery looked over at Axel. He seemed surprisingly jumpy and a bit impatient, preoccupied—probably with keeping her safe. She appreciated the protector in him as he slid into a booth, her against the wall across the faux wooden table from Heath, Axel beside her, facing Aunt Gail.

This place hadn’t changed a bit since she was a kid. Same rust-colored vinyl seats, same dark wooden trim, same aging linoleum, same bubble-bulb fixtures from the seventies. Mystery remembered being here, laughing with her mom. They’d sat on the far side of the room and eaten fried chicken with mashed potatoes, topped it off with ice cream and laughter.

Less than a month later, her mother had been dead.

Today, she might finally find out why. She only hoped she lived to tell the world what had really befallen Julia Mullins.

Mystery folded her hands on the table in front of her.

“You all right?” Heath asked.

She didn’t bother lying to him. He knew her too well. So she just smiled, but her heart broke a little for him. Mystery had always suspected that he cared, but love? Everything about her life was a mess right now. Besides all this crap with her mother’s death, she now held her bodyguard’s feelings in her hands. It would have been so much easier if she could have loved him back. They lived in the same country. He’d never refuse her. They got along fairly well.

But her heart had fixated on Axel long ago, and her chances of getting over him now were nil. She wanted to believe that he was in as deep with her, but he’d merely said he was falling. He hadn’t actually said the “L” word to her. Would he ever?

Tucking the thought away, she forced a smile as the waitress handed them each a menu. Honestly, she wasn’t hungry, having just had breakfast a few hours ago and knowing that her meeting with the attorney could be anywhere between painful and difficult. But this meant a lot to her aunt, and Mystery enjoyed the memories here. She liked the place.

At least until the perky waitress sidled closer to Axel and sent him a flirty smile. “What can I get you? Fried chicken is our specialty, but I also have some tasty pie.”

Mystery rolled her eyes. Did the woman think she was being subtle? “I’ll have a glass of iced tea.”

“That sounds good, too.” Axel didn’t seem to pay the woman much attention.

As the waitress jotted down their drink orders, her aunt ordered iced tea, too. Heath shivered and murmured something about sacrilege, then asked for water.

“Sure.” The waitress flashed them a megawatt smile, her brassy blond tresses spilling over her shoulders to brush the tops of her full breasts, which she arched and thrust out just a bit in Axel’s direction. “Can I get you anything else?”

Aunt Gail looked at her watch. “Give us a few minutes to look over the menu, please.”

The waitress, whose nametag read PATRICE, let her gaze linger on Axel again. “Sure.”

Mystery sighed. Clearly, she was going to have to get used to women hitting on her man if she and Axel managed to stay alive and work out all their other differences.

He fidgeted in his seat and lifted his head from the menu. Staring at Patrice’s swaying ass as she walked away?

The thought really pissed her off, and Mystery took a deep breath. She couldn’t convict Axel of cheating because he’d looked around the room. Even if he’d looked for the waitress, maybe he’d thought of something else he’d like to drink.

God, she so didn’t want to be like her mom.

“How far is the attorney’s office?” she asked her aunt for a distraction.

“About three miles east.” She gestured vaguely in the direction. “I’m glad I called to confirm the appointment. I didn’t want to mistake the time. I don’t always remember everything anymore.” She sighed. “C.R.S.”

“C.R.S., ma’am?” Axel asked.

Gail flushed. “Can’t remember, um . . .” She dropped her voice to the merest whisper. “Shit.”

Mystery laughed. This was the Aunt Gail she remembered. A little dotty, a little unexpected, and usually a lot of fun.

After her mother’s death, she seemed to have become more solemn and pious. Mystery understood. Julia Mullins’s murder had affected them all.

Patrice dropped off everyone’s drinks, bustled away, then returned with some cornbread. She took everyone’s orders, “accidentally” brushing against Axel’s thigh a couple of times. Mystery wished he would put an arm around her or indicate to the forward waitress in some way that he was taken, but he seemed distant. No, distracted.

After Patrice collected their menus with a wink and sashayed off, Heath turned to her aunt. “You’re feeling better since we gave you the terrible news about your sister in the kitchen?”

Aunt Gail drew in a thoughtful breath and seemed to contemplate her answer. “It was a shock, but I prayed before we left. In my room, I caught the last few minutes of Hour of Grace on TV. I just love Reverend Grace. Do you watch him?”