“Are you just traveling with people from your church?”
“No. It’s actually been organized through Reverend Grace’s ministry. He’s sending ten medical professionals there. We’ll assess their needs, their existing equipment, and their reception to the Lord. It’s a spiritual reconnaissance trip. I think it’s my calling now that I’m retired. I have the time and the will to help these people.”
Mystery felt a little ashamed that she’d never had such a selfless need to help strangers on the other side of the world. “It sounds like a great cause. I’m sure they need everything you and the others will bring them.”
Her aunt smiled as if an inner peace glowed from within. “Serve the Lord, and you’ll never be left wanting again.”
Beside her aunt, Heath tapped on his phone, looking distracted. Mystery drank her tea, noticing that Axel fidgeted, glancing around the restaurant. Why were these two so on edge? Yes, she was nervous about seeing what she’d inherited, and maybe she’d be collecting whatever had gotten her mom killed. But after all these years, could whatever secret Julia Mullins had taken to the grave still be that important?
The food arrived moments later, and Patrice set everything down, saving Axel’s for last, serving his grilled chicken and veggies with a saucy wink.
Mystery just really wanted to slap the woman. Instead, she forced a smile. “Can I have the ketchup?”
Patrice reached to the next booth over, now empty, and plucked one up, almost slamming it down on the table in front of her. “Anything else?”
Axel shifted his weight in his seat again. “Where’s the restroom?”
Clearly glad to be of service, the waitress sent him a sultry smile. “I’m headed that direction myself, sugar. Why don’t you follow me?”
“You okay?” Mystery muttered to him as he slid out of the booth.
“Yeah. Quick restroom break. I’ll be back.”
As he hustled across the café, her aunt reached for her hand. “Let’s pray.”
Mystery took Aunt Gail’s outstretched fingers and bowed her head on cue. She listened with half an ear, utterly distracted today.
“Amen. Dig in, dear,” her aunt instructed. “It looks delicious.”
It did. Mystery remembered the amazing hamburgers the diner served from her childhood. With gusto, she picked the sandwich up and took a big bite, then moaned. Heaven.
Heath picked at his pork chops. His thoughts were turning, she could tell. He always got a little distant when something bothered him. But Mystery had no idea what might have put him in such a mood.
Her aunt seemed not to notice. She waxed poetic about her fried chicken and filled the empty space at the table with chatter about all the things she planned to do in Indonesia. “They have some beautiful coastline, and this Kansas girl is looking forward to just soaking it all in.”
“Isn’t that a primarily Islamic country?” Heath asked.
She turned to him, looking a bit surprised by his question. “All the more reason for us to travel there. Less than ten percent of the population is Christian, and it’s a shame they’re missing out on the Lord’s blessing.”
Mystery plastered on a smile and refrained from pointing out that the people there had religion, just not necessarily hers, mostly because she knew it did matter to her aunt which God these people had chosen to follow. Aunt Gail had always been religious. That cross hanging above the stove had been there for decades. But the one at the top of the stairs with pictures of the TV preachers raking in millions in tax-free cash were new. Mystery hated to be so cynical, but didn’t quite grasp how these televangelists could be so gung-ho to minister to the millions they couldn’t interact with if a little bit of greed wasn’t involved.
Lifting her glass of tea only to realize it was empty, she looked around for Patrice. She was nowhere to be found. Typical.
Beside Mystery’s burger sat Axel’s untouched food. He’d been gone more than a few minutes. Had he gotten sick? Was he okay?
“Excuse me,” she said to Heath and her aunt, then filed out of the booth.
Heath nudged Aunt Gail. “I’m afraid I have to follow her. Occupational hazard.”
That startled the older woman. “Oh, of course. You know where to find the restrooms?”
Absently, Mystery wished her aunt hadn’t shouted that in such a public place, but the woman often talked on the loud side. Thankfully, only a few patrons lingered at nearly two o’clock. “I’m fine.”
As they both scooted out and to their feet, Mystery made her way to the back of the restaurant and turned right to enter the hallway that held the bathrooms, Heath right behind her. The lighting in the narrow hallway wasn’t spectacular, but she made out two shapes leaning against the wall, entwined.
Axel stood with his back against the dark paneling. And Patrice was draped all over him.
Mystery stopped short, taking in the waitress’s mouth on his. Her shirt and bra had been ripped wide open, and now she pressed her bare breasts to his chest. She’d also wrapped one arm around Axel’s thick neck while they kissed. The fingers of her free hand tugged at his zipper.
Mystery blinked, stunned. Shocked. Pain hit her chest with a terrible blow. Every inch of her froze over. She gasped.
Suddenly, Axel shoved the waitress off him, arranging his expression to look somewhere between stunned and pissed off.
Oh, he hadn’t begun to see pissed off as far as Mystery was concerned.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked Patrice.
The waitress bit her lip and fastened her bra. “Oops, is that your girlfriend who caught us? You were right; we should have gone in the break room across the hall and locked the door.”
“What the fuck are you’re talking about?” Axel demanded, setting Patrice farther away.
Mystery wondered how often her dad had said similar words to her mom. How often had he made her question her judgment, feel paranoid for being suspicious, or deflected the situation to make it sound like her fault, not his.
She wasn’t going to fall into that trap, not when she’d seen Axel with another woman—again—less than twenty-four hours after the last fiasco.
“You fucking bastard,” she growled.
Axel stepped toward her, his face imploring. “Take a deep breath. Think rationally. It’s not what you’re imagining, princess.”
“Of course it’s not. It never is.”
“Seriously. She crawled on me less than two seconds before you came around the corner. I didn’t touch her. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Stop! Just stop.” She threw up a hand to ward him off, icy betrayal chilling her bloodstream that otherwise sizzled with fury and scorn. “Don’t come near me. And don’t you dare touch me.”
“I guess she’s sensitive?” Patrice muttered. “I had no idea . . .”
“Shut up,” Mystery snarled. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by this little quickie fling but somehow I am. Two can play that game.”
Without warning, she turned and collided with Heath’s substantial body, then wrapped her arms around his neck and slanted her lips over his. He stiffened in shock—then began devouring her lips with his own like a starving man needing sustenance.
Mystery pulled away, dazed and out of breath. She didn’t feel vindicated or even happily spiteful. Instead, everything she’d done felt terribly wrong. She didn’t want Heath, and it wasn’t fair to use him to make Axel angry or lead him on. But she was so damn angry . . .
“Are you fucking serious?” Axel demanded. “That’s really how you’re going to play this?”
No. She wasn’t. No matter how she felt about Axel, she couldn’t be unfair to Heath. He’d done nothing but be a faithful protector and friend for six years.
She backed away and sent her bodyguard an apologetic glance. His dark eyes held hurt and censure that promised a long discussion later. A blade of shame struck her deep.
Curling her arms around herself, Mystery turned to Axel again to find him tucking in his shirt and righting his pants. The sight infuriated and hurt her all over again. New tears stung her eyes like acid.