Page 22 of Noel Secrets

They slipped out of the station and onto the bustling street, holiday lights casting a festive glow over everything. Jayda tried to steady her breathing. Every step away from the family meant freedom—until a familiar voice called out.

“Wait up.”

Jayda stiffened. Simon. Michael’s cousin moved quickly through the crowd, his scarf trailing over his coat. He looked annoyed that they had left him behind.

“What’s really going on?” Simon asked, falling into step beside them. His sharp gaze flicked between Jayda and Michael. “You expect me to believe you two are suddenly patching up twelve years of vitriol over a slice of pie? Come on.”

Jayda exhaled slowly. “Simon, it would be safer if you didn’t know.”

“Safer? Safe from that man last night?” His eyes narrowed. “What about Michael’s safety? You’re dragging him into something, aren’t you?”

Jayda flinched at the truth in his words. Shewasdragging Michael deeper into danger. For a second, she wondered if she should do this alone. That way, only her neck was on the line.

But Michael’s jaw tightened as he spoke. “I’ve handled dangerous investigations before. I know what I’m doing.”

“So what? I can hold my own too. Don’t act like I’m fragile.”

Michael scoffed. “Please. You’ve spent more time at elite parties with a slew of bodyguards who fight off any danger.”

“And you with a press badge around your neck isn’t real danger either.”

Michael bristled, heat rising in his eyes. “You’d be surprised, Simon. Not every truth gets printed. Some of us dig deeper into things than the headlines state.”

Jayda stepped between them before fists could fly. “Enough. This isn’t about family squabbles. Simon, go back to your family. I don’t want to explain to them if something happens to you.”

“Thanks a lot, Jayda. I thought we had something going between us.” Simon’s mouth twisted in anger and offense. “But fine. Don’t say I didn’t offer my help.” He stormed off, disappearing into the crowd.

Jayda swallowed the guilt rising in her throat. She liked Simon but not romantically. She also knew she was using him to make Michael angry. Not her best moment. But now wasn’t the time to rectify her actions.

“Time’s ticking. We have less than four hours to figure out who Veronica Carlisle is and why men are willing to kill me over her pictures and papers.”

Michael placed a hand on her elbow, gentle but firm. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

Their first stop was a squat, windowless building tucked off a quieter street. The brass plaque readUnited States Marshals Service. Michael had made a call earlier—one of his contacts had arranged a meeting. Now they were here to see if the marshal could shed light on Veronica Carlisle.

Inside, the receptionist led them down a hallway lined with faded flags and framed commendations. The air smelled faintly of coffee and paper, and finally, they were ushered into a private office where a man in his late fifties sat behind a desk, typing. His nameplate readGerald Meeks.

He looked up, his expression guarded. “Mr. Blair? And Ms.—”

“Simone,” Jayda said quickly with her best lawyer voice.

Michael placed the documents on the desk. “This is what we came about. Can you tell us anything about this woman and why people are willing to kill for these papers?”

Meeks flipped through the documents, then tapped the photo of Veronica Carlisle. His brow furrowed as he typed on his computer keyboard. The silence stretched until finally he asked, “What’s this for?”

Jayda exchanged a glance with Michael. “Men are after this information. They’ve already tried to kill me for it. Whoever she is, they want her badly.”

Meeks leaned back, eyes unreadable. “She’s already dead.”

Jayda’s stomach lurched. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Veronica Carlisle no longer exists,” he said flatly. “Rest assured—there’s nothing in these documents that would lead them anywhere.”

His eyes said something different. He wasn’t being forthright—she studied him closely, looking for the signs. He was good, but not perfect.

Michael pressed, “Then why the hunt?”

“Because,” Meeks said, his tone sharpening, “they’ll kill you before they realize the information is worthless.”