Mr. Mysterious: A Mister Standalone (The Mister Series Book 4) by J.A. Huss Page A

meeting next weekend. Even if I have to drive myself.”
    I don’t think she knows what the game is. I think she’s been researching me. Came upon some clue from back in the day. I’m not sure how it got out, but she’s an investigator, right? Her job is to find dirt on people.
    But my job is to cover it up. It’s like an ironic little paradox.
    I walk over to her. Right up next to her. She’s not small, but I tower over her. She looks up with those giant blue eyes and I remember something.
    “You’re blonde.”
    “What?” It comes out as a whisper.
    “The carpet doesn’t match the drapes, sugar. You’re blonde. You’ve got blue eyes and the face of a fairytale princess. Why do you dye your hair black and wear all that shit on your face?”
    “Excuse me?” She narrows her eyes at me.
    I narrow mine right back. “You heard me,” I say, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her in closer. Our faces are less than an inch apart. If anger wasn’t coursing through my blood right now, it might appear I was gonna kiss her.
    I am not going to kiss her.
    “You wear that makeup to hide. You dye your hair to hide. These clothes,” I say, pinching the fabric of her vintage Metallica t-shirt between my fingers, “are your disguise. You’re a sweet little liar, aren’t you? Tell me, Cindy. Which of the many things you told me since we’ve met are lies and which are actually true?”
    I’m going to threaten her.
    “Let go,” she says, placing both hands firmly on my chest and pushing me back. My feet don’t even move. I am a wall as far as she’s concerned. A mountain. Made of stone. Immovable. Insurmountable. Unconquerable.
    “Let go? I thought we were fate, sugar? I thought we were partners?” I growl those words out like she’s the enemy.
    She straightens her back and levels her gaze at me. “I’m not afraid of you.”
    “You should be,” I say, leaning so close to her face our noses touch. I stare into her eyes. “Find your own fucking way to Del Mar, bitch. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck away from me and my family.”
     
     

Chapter Eleven - Cindy
     

    Paxton disappears after that. For almost the whole week. He told his mother that Nolan called and asked him to do something. Is that where he went? Or is he already working for that Liam guy? I know the Nolan he’s referring to is Mr. Romantic. And the job with Liam was about Mr. Corporate. What I don’t know is how much of this involves my brother, Mr. Match.
    I case his house all week. I don’t bother going back to Buster’s and hoping for a delivery call. That driver I was bribing to let me know about Paxton’s sandwich orders was fired, so I can’t weasel any more information out of that little deal.
    I go into his house every night, careful to disarm the security system so there’s no alert, just to check and see if he’s home. But he's not. And there are no messages on that landline phone. There isn’t even an answering machine.
    So I wait in my trailer down PCH. And I hang out in the waves with the surfers in front of his house, hoping he’ll surprise me and come out there like he usually does when he’s in town.
    But he never comes, so he’s not in town.
    Where is he? What is he doing? The week drags on so slowly, it makes me want to scream into my pillow at night. And by the time Saturday morning rolls around, I’m aching for him. Just a look at him. I get up early and plan my outfit, wondering what Mariel Hawthorne is really like once you get to know her, and then make the four-hour drive down to San Diego county in weekend traffic.
    I have never been to Del Mar racetrack, but I have been to Belmont that one time I was stalking Paxton’s mother. She said meet her in the Turf Club, so that’s where I head once I get inside.
    They have a dress code, so I am appropriately attired as I hand over my ticket for inspection and smile at the man guarding the door.
    “Right down that way, miss.” The usher